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Full text of "The every-day book and Table book : or, Everlasting calendar of popular amusements, sports, pastimes, ceremonies, manners, customs, and events, incident to each of the three hundred and sixty-five days, in past and present times; forming a complete history of the year, months, and seasons, and a perpetual key to the almanac ... for daily use and diversion. With four hundred and thirty-six engravings"

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€f>e  Clog— 3  perpetual  aimanacfe. 


©jrplamrtr  in  tTje  preface. 


THE 


EYERY-DAY    BOOK 


TABLE    BOOK; 

OR, 

EVERLASTING  CALENDAR  OF  POPULAR  AMUSEMENTS, 

SPORTS,  PASTIMES,  CEREMONIES,   MANNERS, 
CUSTOMS,   AND    EVENTS, 


INCIDENT    TO 


of  tf>e 


^unfcretf  an*  §btxty-ffbe 


IN    PAST    AND    PRESENT    TIMES  ; 


FORMING   A 


COMPLETE  HISTORY  OF    THE  YEAR,  MONTHS,  AND   SEASONS, 

AND   A 

PERPETUAL  KEY   TO   THE    ALMANAC; 

/NCt/tlDINU 

ACCOUNTS  OP  THK  WEATHER,  RULES  FOR  HEALTH  AND  CONDUCT,  REMARKABLE  AND 
IMPORTANT  ANECDOTES,  FACTS,  AND  NOTICES,  IN  CHRONOLOGY,  ANTIQUITIES,  TOPO- 
GRAPHY, BIOGRAPHY,  NATURAL  HISTORY,  ART,  SCIENCE,  AND  GENERAL  LITERATURE  ; 
DERIVED  FROM  THE  MOST  AUTHENTIC  SOURCES,  AND  VALUABLE  ORIGINAL  COMMU- 
NICATIONS, WITH  POETICAL  ELUCIDATIONS,  FOR  DAILY  USE  AND  DIVERSION. 


BY   WILLIAM   HONE 


I  tell  of  festivals,  and  fairs,  and  plays, 

Of  merriment,  and  mirth,  and  bonfire  blaze ; 

I  tell  of  Christmas-mummings,  new  year's  day, 

Of  twelfth-night  king  and  queen,  and  children's  play ; 

I  tell  of  valentines,  and  true-love's-knots, 

Of  omens,  cunning  men,  and  drawing  lots  : 


I  tell  of  brooks,  of  blossoms,  birds  and  bowers, 

Of  April,  May,  of  June,  and  July-flowers  ; 

I  tell  of  May-poles,  hock-carts,  wassails,  wakes, 

Of  bridegrooms,  brides,  and  of  their  bridal  cakes  ; 

I  tell  of  groves,  of  twilights,  and  I  sing 

The  court  of  Mab,  and  of  the  fairy  king. 

HERRTCK. 


WITH  FOUR  HUNDRED  AND  THIRTY-SIX  ENGRAVINGS. 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES? 


VOL.  II. 


LONDON  : 
PRINTED    FOR    THOMAS    TEGG, 

73,    CHE  APS  IDE. 


LONDON  : 
J.  BADDON,  PRIHTBIt,  CA8TLK  STREET,  FINSBI'Ry. 


trt 

THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

rI1HE  EARL  OF  DARLINGTON, 

LORD  LIEUTENANT  AND  VICE-ADMIRAL  OF  THE  COUNTY 
PALATINE  OF  DURHAM,  &c.  &c.  &c. 


MY  LORD, 

To  YOUR  LORDSHIP — as  an  encourager  of  the  old  country  sport? 
and  usages  chiefly  treated  of  in  my  book,  and  as  a  maintainer  of  the  ancient 
hospitality  so  closely  connected  with  them,  which  associated  the  Peasantry 
of  this  land  with  its  Nobles,  in  bonds  which  degraded  neither — 

I  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATE  THIS  VOLUME ; 

not  unmindful  of  your  Lordship's  peculiar  kindness  to  me  under  difficulties, 
and  not  unmoved  by  the  pride  which  I  shall  have  in  subscribing  myself, 

MY  LORD, 

YOUR  LORDSHIP'S  HIGHLY  HONOURED, 
.  MOST  OBEDIENT, 

AND  VERY  HUMBLE  SERVANT, 

WJMJAM  HONE. 

Atomy  27,  1827. 


PREFACE. 


BEFORE  remarking  on  the  work  terminating  with  this  vo.ume,  some  notice  should  be 
token  of  its  Frontispiece. 

I.  The  "  Clog"  or  "  Perpetual  Almanack"  having  been  in  common  use  with  our 
ancient  ancestors,  a  representation  and  explanation  of  it  seemed  requisite  among 
the  various  accounts  of  manners  and  customs  related  in  the  order  of  the  calendar. 

Of  the  word  "clog,"  there  is  no  satisfactory  etymology  in  the  sense  here  used,  which 
signifies  an  almanack  made  upon  a  square  stick.  Dr.  Robert  Plot,  who  published  the 
"  History  of  Staffordshire,"  in  1686,  instances  a  variety  of  these  old  almanacks  then 
in  use  in  that  county.  Some  he  calls  "  public,"  because  they  were  of  a  large  size, 
and  commonly  hung  at  one  end  of  the  mantle-tree  of  the  chimney  ;  others  he  calls 
'*  private,"  because  they  were  smaller,  and  carried  in  the  pocket.  For  the  better 
understanding  of  the  figure?  on  these  clogs,  he  caused  a  family  clog  "  to  be  represented 
in  piano,  each  angle  of  the  square  stick,  with  the  moiety  of  each  of  the  flat  sides  be- 
longing to  it,  being  expressed  apart."  From  this  clog,  so  represented  in  Dr.  Plot's 
history,  the  engraving  is  taken  which  forms  the  frontispiece  now,  on  his  authority, 
about  to  be  described. 

There  are  3  months  contained  upon  each  of  the  four  edges  ;  the  number  of  the  days 
in  *hem  are  represented  by  the  notches ;  that  which  begins  each  month  has  a  short 
»,pread;ng  stroke  turned  up  from  it ;  every  seventh  notch  is  of  a  larger  size,  and  stands 
for  Sunday,  (or  rather,  perhaps,  for  the  first  day  of  each  successive  natural  week  in 
the  year.) 

Against  many  of  the  notches  there  are  placed  on  the  left  hand  several  marks  or 
symbols  denoting  the  golden  number  or  cycle  of  the  Moon,  which  number  if  under  5, 
is  represented  by  so  many  points,  or  dots ;  but  if  5,  a  line  is  drawn  from  the  notch,  or 
day,  it  belongs  to,  with  a  hook  returned  back  against  the  course  of  the  line,  which,  if 
cut  off  at  due  distance,  may  be  taken  for  a  V,  the  numeral  signifying  5.  If  the  golden 
number  be  above  5,  and  under  10,  it  is  then  marked  out  by  the  hooked  line,  which  is 
5  ;  and  with  one  point,  which  makes  6  ;  or  two,  which  makes  7 ;  or  three,  for  8 ;  or 
four,  for  9;  the  said  line  being  crossed  with  a  broad' stroke  spreading  at  each  end, 
which  represents  an  X,  when  the  golden  number  for  the  day,  over  against  which  it  is 
put,  is  10;  points  being  added  (as  above  over  the  hook  for  5,)  till  the  number  arises 
to  15,  when  a  hook  is  placed  again  at  the  end  of  the  line  above  the  X,  to  show  us  that 
number. 

The  figures  issuing  from  the  notches,  towards  the  right  hand,  are  symbols  or  hiero- 
glyphics, of  either,  1st,  the  offices,  or  endowments  of  the  saints,  before  whose  festivals 
they  are  placed ;  or  2dly,  the  manner  of  their  martyrdoms ;  or  3dly,  their  actions, 
vr  the  work  or  sport,  in  fashion  about  the  time  when  their  feasts  are  kept. 

For  instance:  1.  from  the  notch  which  represents  January  13th,'  on  the  feast  of  St. 
Hilary,  issues  a  cross  or  badge  of  a  bishop,  as  St.  Hilary  was  ;  from  March  1st,  a  harp, 
showing  the  feast  of  St.  David,  by  that  instrument ;  from  June  29th,  the  keys  for  St. 
Peter,  reputed  the  Janitor  of  heaven  ;  from  October  25th,  a  pair  of  shoes  for  St 
Crispin,  the  patron  of  jshoe-makers.  Of  class  2,  are  the  axe  against  January  '25th,  the 
feast  of  St.  Paul,  who  was  beheaded  with  an  axe;  the  ?  \ord  igainst  June  24th, 


Yin  PREFACE. 

the  feast  of  St.  John  Baptist,  who  was  beheaded ;  the  gridiron  against  August  10th,  the 
feast  of  St.  Lawrence,  who  suffered  martyrdom  on  one  ;  a  wiieel  on  the  25th  of  Novem  • 
her,  for  St.  Catherine,  and  a  decussated  cross  on  the  last  of  that  month,  for  St.  An. 
drew,  who  are  said  also  to  have  suffered  death  by  such  instruments.  Of  the  3d  kind,  are 
the  star  on  the  6th  of  January,  to  denote  the  Epiphany  ;  a  true  lover's  knot  against  the 
14th  of  February,  for  Valentine's-day ;  a  bough  against  the  2d  of  March,  for  St. 
Ceadda,  who  lived  a  Hermit's  life  in  the  woods  near  Litchfield  ;  a  bough  on  the  1st  of 
May,  for  the  May-bush,  then  usually  set  up  with  great  solemnity ;  and  a  rake  on  the 
llth  of  June,  St.  Barnabas'-day,  importing  that  then  it  is  hay-harvest.  So,  a  pot  is 
set  against  the  23d  of  November,  for  the  feast  of  St.  Clement,  from  the  ancient  custom 
of  going  about  that  night  to  beg  drink  to  make  merry  with  :  for  the  purification,  an- 
nunciation, and  all  other  feasts  of  our  lady,  there  is  always  the  figure  of  a  heart :  and 
lastly,  for  December  25th,  or  Christmas-day,  a  horn,  the  ancient  vessel  in  which  the 
Danes  use  to  wassail,  or  drink  healths ;  signifying  to  us,  that  this  is  the  time  we  ought 
to  rejoiae  and  make  merry. 

II,  Respecting  this  second  volume  of  the  Every-Day  Book,  it  is  scarcely  necessary 
to  say  more  than  that  it  has  been  conducted  with  the  same  desire  and  design  as  the 
preceding  volume ;  and  that  it  contains  a  much  greater  variety  of  original  information 
concerning  manners  and  customs.     I  had  so  devoted  myself  to  this  main  object,  as  to 
find  no  lack  of  materials  for  carrying  it  further  ;  nor  were  my  correspondents,  who  had 
largely  increased,  less  communicative  :  but  there  were  some  readers  who  thought  the 
work  ought  to  have  been  finished  in  one  volume,  and  others,  who  were  not  inclined  to 
follow  beyond  a  second ;  and  their  apprehensions  that  it  could  not,  or  their  wishes 
that  it  should  not  be  carried  further,  constrained  me  to  close  it.     As  an  "  Everlasting 
Calendar"  of  amusements,  sports,  and  pastimes,  incident  to  the  year,  the  Every-Day 
Book  is  complete ;  and  I  venture,  without  fear  of  disproof,  to  affirm,  that  there  is  not 
such  a  copious  collection  of  pleasant  facts  and  illustrations,  "  for  daily  use  and  diver- 
sion," in  the  language ;  nor  are  any  other  volumes  so  abundantly  stored  with  original 
designs,  or  with  curious  and  interesting  subjects  so  meritoriously  engraven. 

III.  Every  thing  that  I  wished  to  bring  into  the  Every-Day  Book,  but  was  compelled 
Co  omit  from  its  pages,  in  order  to  conclude  it  within  what  the  public  would  deem  a 
reasonable  size,  I  purpose  to  introduce  in  my  Table  Book.     In  that  publication,  I  have 
the  satisfaction  to  find  myself  aided  by  many  of  my  "  Every-Day  "  correspondents,  to 
whom  I  tender  respectful  acknowledgments  and  hearty  thanks.     This  is  the  more  due 
to  them  here,  because  I  frankly  confess  that  to  most  I  owe  letters  ;  I  trust  that  those 
who  have  not  been  noticed  as  they  expected,  will  impute  the  neglect  to  any  thing 
rather  than  insensibility  of  my  obligations  to  them,  for  their  valuable  favours. 

Although  I  confess  myself  to  have  been  highly  satisfied  by  the  general  reception  of 
the  Every-Day  Book,  and  am  proud  of  the  honour  it  has  derived  from  individuals  of 
high  literary  reputation,  yet  there  is  one  class  whose  approbation  I  value  most  especi- 
ally. The  "  mothers  of  England  "  have  been  pleased  to  entertain  it  as  an  every-day 
assistant  in  their  families ;  and  instructors  of  youth,  of  both  sexes,  have  placed  it  in 
school-libraries  : — this  ample  testimonial,  that,  while  engaged  in  exemplifying  "  man- 
ners," I  have  religiously  adhered  to  "  morals,"  is  the  most  gratifying  reward  I  could 
hope  to  receive. 

February,  1827.  W.  HONE 


THE 


EVERY-DAY  BOOK. 


JANUARY. 

Then  came  old  January,  wrapped  well 
In  many  weeds  to  keep'  the  cold  away  ; 
Yet  did  he  quake  and  quiver  like  to  quell , 
And  blow  his  nayles  to  warm  them  if  he  may ; 
For  they  were  numb'd  with  holding  all  the  day 
An  hatchet  keene,  with  which  he  felled  wood, 
And  from  the  trees  did  lop  the  needlesse  spray ; 
Upon  a  huge  great  earth-pot  steane  he  stood, 
From  whose  wide  mouth  there  flowed  forth  the  Romane  flood. 

Spenser 
JUtO  ! — was   the   first  entry  by     entries  to  the  days,  and  months,  and  sea- 


merchants  and  tradesmen  of  our  fore- 
fathers' days,  in  beginning  their  new 
account-books  with  the  new  year.  LAUS 
DEO  !  then,  be  the  opening  of  this  T;o- 
•ume  of  the  Every-Day  Book,  wherein  we 
lake  further  "  note  of  time."  and  make 
Vet. 


sons,  in   "  every  varied    posture,   place, 
and  hour/'' 


JANUARY, 
mentioned,* 


besides  the 
was   called    by 


names  already 
the  Anglo- 


*  In  vol.  i.  p.  2. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-JANUARY  1, 


Saxons  Giuli  aftera,  signifying  the  second 
Giul,  or  Yule,  or,  as  \ve  should  say,  the 
second  Christmas.*  Of  Yule  itself  much 
will  be  observed,  when  it  can  be  better 
said. 


To  this  month  there  is  an  ode  with  a 
verse  beautifully  descriptive  of  the  Roman 
symbol  of  the  year  :f 

Tis  he !  the  two-fac'd  Janus  comes  in  view ; 
Wild  hyacinths  his  robe  adorn, 
And  snow-drops,  rivals  of  the  morn 

He  spurns  the  goat  aside, 

But  smiles  upon  the  new 

Emerging  year  with  pride  : 
And  now  unlocks,  with  agate  key, 
The  ruby  gates  of  orient  day. 


CLIMATE. 

Mr.  Luke  Howard  is  the  author  of  a 
highly  useful  work,  entitled  "  The  Climate 
of  London,  deduced  from  Meteorological 
Observations,  made  at  different  places  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  Metropolis : 
London,  1818."  2  vols.  8vo.  Out  of  this 
magazine  of  fact  it  is  proposed  to  extract, 
from  time  to  time,  certain  results  which 
may  acquaint  general  readers  with  useful 
knowledge  concerning  the  weather  of  our 
latitude,  and  induce  the  inquisitive  to 
resort  to  Mr.  Howard's  book,  as  a  careful 
guide  of  high  authority  in  conducting  their 
researches.  That  gentleman,  it  is  hoped, 
will  not  deem  this  an  improper  use  of  his 
labours  :  it  is  meant  to  be,  as  far  as  re- 
gards himself,  a  humble  tribute  to  his 
talents  and  diligence.  With  these  views, 
under  each  month  will  be  given  a  state  of 
the  weather,  in  Mr.  Howard's  own  words : 
and  thus  we  begin. 

JANUARY  WEATHER 

The  Sun  in  the  middle  of  this  month 
continues  about  8  h.  20  m.  above  the  hori- 


zon. The  Temperature  rises  in  the  day, 
on  an  average  of  twenty  years,  to  40-28* 
and  falls  in  the  night,  in  the  open  country 
to  31-36° — the  difference,  8'92°,  repre- 
senting the  mean  effect  of  the  sun's  rays 
for  the  month,  may  be  termed  the  solar 
variation  of  the  temperature. 

The  Mean  Temperature  of  the  month,  if 
the  observations  in  this  city  be  included, 
is  36-34°.  But  this  mean  has  a  range,  in 
ten  years,  of  about  10-25°,  which  may  be 
termed  the  lunar  variation  of  the  tempera- 
ture. It  holds  equally  in  the  decade, 
beginning  with  1797,  observed  in  Lon- 
don, and  in  that  beginning  with  1807,  in 
the  country.  In  the  former  decade,  the 
month  was  coldest  in  1802,  and  warmest 
in  1812,  and  coldest  in  1814.  I  have 
likewise  shown,  that  there  was  a  tendency 
in  the  daily  variation  of  temperature 
through  this  month,  to  proceed,  in  these 
respective  periods  of  years,  in  opposite 
directions.  The  prevalence  of  different 
classes  of  winds,  in  the  different  periods, 
is  the  most  obvious  cause  of  these  pe- 
riodical variations  of  the  mean  tempera- 
ture. 

The  Barometer  in  this  month  rises,  on 
an  average  of  ten  years,  to  3-40  in.,  and 
falls  to  28-97  in. :  the  mean  range  is  there- 
fore 1-43  in.;  but  the  extreme  range  in 
ten  years  is  2;38  in.  The  mean  height 
for  the  month  is  about  29-79  inches. 

The  prevailing  Winds  are  the  class  from 
west  to  north.  The  northerly  predomi- 
nate, by  a  fourth  of  their  amount,  over  the 
southerly  winds. 

The  average  Evaporation  (on  a  total  of 
30-50  inches  for  the  year)  is  0-832  in., 
and  the  mean  of  De  Luc's  hydrometer  30. 

The  mean  Rain,  at  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  is  1-959  in. ;  and  the  number  of 
days  on  which  snow  or  rain  falls,  in  this 
mouth,  averages  14,  4. 

A  majority  of  the  Nights  in  this  month 
have  constantly  the  temperature  at  or 
below  the  foregoing  point.J 


Long  ere  the  lingering  dawn  of  that  blythe  morn 
Which  ushers  in  the  year,  the  roosting  cock, 
Flapping  his  wings,  repeats  his  larum  shrill ; 
But  on  that  morn  no  busy  flail  obeys 
His  rousing  call ;  no  sounds  but  sounds  of  joy 
Salute  the  ear — the  first-foot's  §  entering  step, 
That  sudden  on  the  floor  is  welcome  heard, 
Ere  blushing  maids  have  braided  up  their  hair ; 
The  laugh,  the  hearty  kiss,  the  good  new  year 


Sayers.  t  See  vol.  i.  p.  ].  j  Howard  on  Climul*. 

The  first  vUitant  who  enters  a  house  on  New-year's  day  is  called  \hejlrst-foot. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—  JANUARY  1. 


Pronounced  with  honest  warmth.     In  village,  grange, 
And  burrow  town,  the  steaming  flaggon,  borne 
From  house  to  house,  elates  the  poor  man's  heart, 
And  makes  him  feel  that  life  has  still  its  joys. 
The  aged  and  the  young,  man,  woman,  child, 
Unite  in  social  glee  ;  even  stranger  dogs, 
Meeting  with  bristling  back,  soon  lay  aside 
Their  snarling  aspect,  and  in  sportive  chace, 
Excursive  scour,  or  wallow  in  the  snow. 
With  sober  cheerfulness,  the  grandam  eyes 
Her  offspring  round  her,  all  in  health  and  peace  ; 
And,  thankful  that  she's  spared  to  see  this  day 
Return  once  more,  breathes  low  a  secret  prayer, 
That  God  would  shed  a  blessing  on  their  heads. 


1  . 


The  Saints  of  the  Roman  calendars  and 
martyr  ologies. 

So  far  as  the  rev.  Alban  Butler,  in  his 
every-day  biography  of  Roman  catholic 
saints,  has  written  their  memoirs,  their 
names  have  been  given,  together  with 
notices  of  some,  and  especially  of  those 
retained  in  the  calendar  of  the  church  of 
England  from  the  Romish  calendar. 
Similar  notices  of  others  will  be  offered  in 
continuation  ;  but,  on  this  high  festival  in 
the  calendar  of  nature,  particular  or  fur- 
ther remark  on  the  saints'  festivals  would 
interrupt  due  attention  to  the  season,  and 
therefore  we  break  from  them  to  observe 
that  day  which  all  enjoy  in  common, 

$*to  gear's?  Bap. 

Referring  for  the  "  New-year's  gifts," 
the  "  Candlemas-bull,"  and  various  ob- 
servances of  our  ancestors  and  ourselves, 
to  the  first  volume  of  this  work,  wherein 
they  are  set  forth  "  in  lively  pourtraie- 
ture,"  we  stop  a  moment  to  peep  into  the 
"  Mirror  of  the  Months,"  and  inquire 
"  Who  can  see  a  new  year  open  upon 
him,  without  being  better  for  the  pros- 
pect —  without  making  sundry  wise  reflec- 
tions (for  any  reflections  on  this  subject 
must  be  comparatively  wise  ones)  on  the 
step  he  is  about  to  take  towards  the  goal 
of  his  being  ?  Every  first  of  January  that 
we  arrive  at,  is  an  imaginary  mile-stone 
on  the  turnpike  track  of  human  life  ;  at 
once  a  resting  place  for  thought  and  me- 
ditation, and  a  starting  point  for  fresh 
exertion  in  the  performance  of  our  jour- 
ney. The  man  who  does  not  at  least 
propose  to  himself  to  be  better  this  year 
than  he  was  last,  must  be  either  very 


Grahame 

good,  or  very  bad  indeed !  And  only  to 
vropose  to  be  better,  is  something;  if 
nothing  else,  it  is  an  acknowledgment  of 
our  need  to  be  so,  which  is  the  first  step 
towards  amendment.  But,  in  fact,  to 
propose  to  oneself  to  do  well,  is  in  some 
sort  to  do  well,  positively  ;  for  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  a  stationary  point  in  human 
endeavours ;  he  who  is  not  worse  to-day 
than  he  was  yesterday,  is  better ;  and  he 
who  is  not  better,  is  worse." 

It  is  written,  "  Improve  your  time,"  in 
the  text-hand  set  of  copies  put  before  us 
when  we  were  better  taught  to  write  than 
to  understand  what  we  wrote.  How  often 
these  three  words  recurred  at  that  period 
without  their  meaning  being  discovered  ! 
How  often  and  how  serviceably  they  have 
recurred  since  to  some  who  have  obeyed 
the  injunction !  How  painful  has  reflec- 
tion been  to  others,  who  recollecting  it, 
preferred  to  suffer  rather  than  to  do! 

The  author  of  the  paragraph  quoted 
above,  expresses  forcible  remembrance  of 
his  youthful  pleasures  on  the  coming  in 
of  the  new  year. — "  Hail!  to  thee,  JANU- 
ARY!— all  hail!  cold  and  wintry  as  thou 
art,  if  it  be  but  in  virtue  of  thy  first  day. 
THE  DAY,  as  the  French  call  it,  par  excel-' 
lence,  '  Le  jour  de  Tan.'  Come  about 
me,  all  ye  little  schoolboys  that  have 
escaped  from  the  unnatural  thraldom  of 
your  taskwork— come  crowding  about 
me,  with  your  untamed  hearts  shouting 
in  your  unmodulated  voices,  and  your 
happy  spirits  dancing  an  untaught  mea- 
sure in  your  eyes!  Come,  and  help  me 
to  speak  the  praises  of  new-year's  day  '. — 
your  day — one  of  the  three  which  have, 
of  late,  become  yours  almost  exclusively, 
and  which  have  bettered  you,  and  have 
been  bettered  themselves,  by  the  change. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  1. 


Christmay-day,  which  was ;  New-year's- 
day,  which  is;  and  Twelfth-day,  which 
is  to  be;  let  us  compel  them  all  three 
into  our  presence — with  a  whisk  of  our 
imaginative  wand  convert  them  into  one, 
as  the  conjurer  does  his  three  glittering 
balls — and  then  enjoy  them  all  together, — 
with  their  dressings,  and  coachings,  and 
visitings,  and  greetings,  and  gifts,  and 
"  many  happy  returns" — with  their  plum- 
puddings,  and  mince-pies,  and  twelfth- 
cakes,  and  neguses — with  their  forfeits, 
and  fortune-tellings, and  blindman's-buffs, 
and  sittings  up  to  supper — with  their 
pantomimes,  and  panoramas,  and  new 
penknives,  and  pastrycooks'  L'hops — in 


short,  with  their  endless  round  of  ever 
new  nothings,  the  absence  of  a  relish  for 
which  is  but  ill  supplied,  in  after  life,  by 
that  feverish  lingering  and  thirsting  after 
excitement,  which  usurp  without  filling 
its  place.  Oh  !  that  I  might  enjoy  those 
nothings  once  again  in  fact,  as  I  can  in 
fancy !  But  I  fear  the  wish  is  worse  than 
an  idle  one ;  for  it  not  only  may  not  be, 
but  it  ought  not  to  be.  u  We  cannot 
have  our  cake  and  eat  it  too,"  as  the 
vulgar  somewhat  vulgarly,  but  not  less 
shrewdly,  express  it.  And  this  is  as  it 
should  be;  for  if  we  could,  it  would 
neither  be  worth  the  eating  nor  the 
having.''* 


WASSAIL! 


Health,  my  lord  king,  the  sweet  Rowena  said, 
Health,  cry'd  the  chieftain,  to  the  Saxon  maid  ; 
Then  gayly  rose,  and  'midst  the  concourse  wide, 
Kis&'d  her  hale  lips,  and  plac'd  her  by  his  side  : 
At  the  soft  scene  such  gentle  thoughts  abound, 
That  health  and  kisses  'mongst  the  guests  went  round 
From  this  the  social  custom  took  its  rise, 
We  still  retain,  and  must  for  ever  prize. 


Now,  on  New-year's- day  as  on  the  pre- 
vious eve,  the  wassail  bowl  is  carried 
from  door  to  door,  with  singing  and  mer- 
riment. In  Devonshire, 

A  massy  bowl,  to  deck  the  jovial  day, 
Flash'd  from  its  ample  round  a  sunlike  ray. 
Full  many  a  cent'ry  it  shone  forth  to  grace 
The  festive  spirit  of  th*  Andarton  race, 
As,  to  the  sons  of  sacred  union  dear, 
It  welcomed  with  lambs'  woo/ the  rising  year. 
Polwhele. 

Mr.  Brand  says,  "  It  appears  from 
Thomas  de  la  Moore,*  and  old  Havillan,f 
that  u-as-haile  and  drinc-heil  weve  the 


*  Vita  Edw.  II.     f  la  Architren.  lib.  2. 


usual  ancient  phrases  of  quaffing  among 
the  English,  and  synonymous  with  the 
'  Come,  here's  to  you,'  and  «  I'll  pledge 
you/  of  the  present  day." 


In  the  "  Antiquarian  Repertory,"  a 
large  assemblage  of  curious  communica- 
tions, published  by  Mr.  JefFery,  of  Pall- 
mall,  in  4  vols.  4to.  there  is  the  followino 
paper  relating  to  an  ancient  carving  re- 
presented in  that  work,  from  whence  the 
above  engraving  is  taken.  The  verses 
beneath  it  are  a  version  of  the  old  lines 
in  Robert,  of  Gloucester's  chronicle,  by 
Mr.  Jeffery's  correspondent. 


Mirror  of  the  Months. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  1. 


10 


For  the  Antiquarian  Repertory.  hearth    with   their   cheerful   neighbours, 

In  the  parish  of  Berlen,  near  Snodland,  and  then  in  the  spicy  wassell-bowl  (which 
in  the  county  of  Kent,  are  the  vestiges  of  testifies  the  goodness  of  their  hearts) 
a  very  old  mansion,  known  by  the  name  drowned  every  former  animosity — an  ex- 
of  Groves.  Being  on  the  spot  before  the  ample  worthy  modern  imitation.  Wassell, 
began  to  pull  down  the  front,  was  the  word ;  Wassell,  every  guest  return- 
ed as  he  took  the  circling  goblet  from  his 
friend,  whilst  song  and  civil  mirth 
brought  in  the  infant  year.  This  annual 
custom,  says  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  had 
its  rise  from  Rouix,  or  Rowen,  or  as  some 
will  have  it,  Rowena,  daughter  of  the 
Saxon  Hengist;  she,  at  the  command  of 
her  father,  who  had  invited  the  British 
king  Voltigern  to  a  banquet,  came  in  the 
presence  with  a  bowl  of  wine,  and  wel- 
comed him  in  these  words,  Louerd  king 
wass-heil ;  he  in  return,  by  the  help  of  an 
interpreter,  answered,  Drinc  heile;  and, 
if  we  may  credit  Robert  of  Gloster, 

l)in  antt  Sttte  $ia  attoune  antf  glafc  ttronfee  ijtre  fyil 
tljat  foaS  tfjo  in  fl)iS  lautf  ti)e  berSt  foa&f)*tt 
in  language  of  J^ajrojme  tf)at  toe  mtgjt  ebere  tfotte 
So  toell  ije  pattf)  tf)e  Me  about,  tf)at  je  is  gut  borgute. 

with  such  sort  of  work  before  the  four- 
teenth century.  T.  N. 


workmen 

I  had  the  curiosity  to  examine  its  interior 
remains,  when,  amongst  other  things  well 
worth  observation,  appeared  in  the  large 
oak  beam  that  supported  the  chimney- 
piece,  a  curious  piece  of  carved  work,  of 
which  the  preceding  is  an  exact  copy.  Its 
singularity  induced  me  to  set  about  an 
investigation,  which,  to  my  satisfaction, 
was  not  long  without  success.  The  large 
bowl  in  the  middle  is  the  figure  of  the 
old  wassell-bowl,  so  much  the  delight  of 
our  hardy  ancestors,  who,  on  the  vigil  of 
the  new  year,  never  failed  (says  my 
author)  to  assemble  round  the  glowing 


Thomas  De  Le  Moor,  in  his  "  Life  of 
Edward  the  Second,"  says  partly  the 
same  as  Robert  of  Gloster,  and  only 
adds,  that  Wass-haile  and  Drinc-hail 
were  the  usual  phrases  of  quaffing  amongst 
the  earliest  civilized  inhabitants  of  this 
island. 

The  two  birds  upon  the  bowl  did  for 
some  time  put  me  to  a  stand,  till  meeting 
with  a  communicative  person  at  Hobar- 
row,  he  assured  me  they  were  two  hawks, 
as  I  soon  plainly  perceived  by  their  bills 
and  beaks,  and  were  a  rebus  of  the 
builder's  name.  There  was  a  string  from 
the  neck  of  one  bird  to  the  other,  which, 
it  is  reasonable  to  conjecture,  was  to  note 
that  they  must  be  joined  together  to 
show  their  signification  ;  admitting  this, 
they  were  to  be  red  hawks.  Upon  in- 
quiry, I  found  a  Mr.  Henry  Hawks,  the 
owner  of  a  farm  adjoining  to  Groves  ;  he 
assured  me,  his  father  kept  Grove  farm 
about  forty  years  since,  and  that  it  was 
iuilt  by  one  of  their  name,  and  had  been 
m  his  family  upwards  of  four  hundred 
years,  as  appeared  by  an  old  lease  in  his 
possession. 

The  apple  branches  on  each  side  of  the 
bowl,  I  think,  means  no  more  than  that 
they  drank  good  cider  at  their  Wassells. 
Saxon  words  at  the  extremities  of  the 
beam  are  already  explained ;  and  the 
mask  carved  brackets  beneath  correspond 


The  following  pleasant  old  song,  in- 
serted by  Mr.  Brand,  from  Ritson's  col- 
lection of  "  Antient  Songs,"  was  met  with 
by  the  Editor  of  the  Every-day  Book,  in 
1819,  at  the  printing-office  of  Mr.  Rann, 
at  Dudley,  printed  by  him  for  the  Was- 
sailers  of  Staffordshire  and  Warwick- 
shire. It  went  formerly  to  the  tune  of 
"  Gallants  come  away. 

A    CARROLL   FOR    A    WASSELL-BOWL. 

A  jolly  Wassel-Bowl, 

A  Wassel  of  good  ale, 
Well  fare  the  butler's  soul, 
That  setteth  this  to  sale  5 

Our  jolly  Wassel. 
Good  Dame,  here  at  your  door 

Our  Wassel  we  begin, 
We  are  all  maidens  poor, 
We  pray  now  let  us  in, 

With  our  WasseL 
Our  Wassel  we  do  fill 

With  apples  and  with  spice, 

Then  grant  us  your  good  will 

To  taste  here  once  or  twice 

Of  our  good  WasseL 
If  any  maidens  be 

Here  dwelling  in  this  house, 
They  kindly  will  agree 
To  take  a  full  carouse 

Of  our  Wassr  1. 


11 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  1. 


12 


But  here  they  let  us  stand 

All  freezing  in  the  cold  ; 
Good  master,  give  command, 

To  enter  and  be  bold, 

With  our  Wassei 

Much  joy  into  this  hall 

With  us  is  entered  in, 
Our  master  first  of  all, 

We  hope  will  now  begin, 

Of  our  Wassei . 

And  after  his  good  wife 

Our  spiced  bowl  will  try, 
The  Lord  prolong  your  life, 

Good  fortune  we  espy, 

For  our  Wassei. 

Some  bounty  from  your  hands, 

Our  Wassei  to  maintain  . 
We'll  buy  no  house  nor  lands 

With  that  which  we  do  gain, 

With  our  Wassei. 

This  is  our  merry  night 

Of  choosing  King  and  Queen r 

Then  be  it  your  delight 

That  something  may  be  seen 
In  our  Wassei. 

It  is  a  noble  part 

To  bear  a  liberal  mind, 
God  bless  our  master's  heart, 

For  here  we  comfort  find, 

With  our  Wassei. 

And  now  we  must  be  gone, 
To  seek  out  more  good  cheer ; 

Where  bounty  will  be  shown, 
As  we  have  found  it  here, 

With  our  Wassei. 

Much  joy  betide  them  all,  "^ 

Our  prayers  shall  be  still, 
We  hope  and  ever  shall, 

For  this  your  great  good  will, 
To  our  Wassei. 

From  the  "  Wassail "  we  derive,  per- 
haps, a  feature  by  which  we  are  distin- 
guished. An  Englishman  eats  no  more 
than  a  Frenchman;  but  he  makes  yule- 
tide  of  all  the  year.  In  virtue  of  his 
forefathers,  he  is  given  to  "  strong  drink." 
He  is  a  beer-drinker,  an  enjoyer  of  "  fat 
ale ;"  a  lover  of  the  best  London  porter 
and  double  XX,  and  discontented  unless 
he  can  get  "  stout."  He  is  a  sitter  withal. 
Put  an  Englishman  "  behind  a  pipe"  and 
a  full  pot,  and  he  will  sit  till  he  cannot 
stand.  At  first  he  is  silent ;  but  as  his 
liquor  gets  towards  the  bottom,  he  inclines 
towards  conversation ;  as  he  replenishes, 
his  coldness  thaws,  and  he  is  conversa- 
tional ;  the  oftener  he  calls  to  "  fill  again,'' 
ihe  more  talkative  he  becomes;  and  when 


thoroughly  liquefied,  his  loquacity  is  de- 
luging. He  is  thus  in  public-house  par- 
lours: he  is  in  parties  somewhat  higher, 
much  the  same.  The  business  of  dinner 
draws  on  the  greater  business  of  drinking, 
and  the  potations  are  strong  and  fiery; 
full-bodied  port,  hot  sherry,  and  ardent 
spirits.  This  occupation  consumes  five 
or  six  hours,  and  sometimes  more,  after 
dining.  There  is  no  rising  from  it,  but 
to  toss  off  the  glass,  and  huzza  after  the 
"  hip  !  hip !  hip  \"  of  the  toast  giver.  A 
calculation  of  the  number  who  customa- 
rily "  dine  out"  in  this  manner  half  the 
week,  would  be  very  amusing,  if  it  were 
illustrated  by  portraits  of  some  of  the 
indulgers.  It  might  be  further,  and  more 
usefully,  though  not  so  agreeably  illus- 
trated, by  the  reports  of  physicians,  wives, 
and  nurses,  and  the  bills  of  apothecaries. 
Habitual  sitting  to  drink  is  the  "  besetting 
sin"  of  Englishmen — the  creator  of  their 
gout  and  palsy,  the  embitterer  of  their 
enjoyments,  the  impoverisher  of  their 
property,  the  widow-maker  of  their  wives. 

By  continuing  the  "  wassail"  of  our  an- 
cestors,we  attempt  to  cultivate  the  body  as 
they  did  ;  but  we  are  other  beings,  culti- 
vated in  other  ways,  with  faculties  and 
powers  of  mind  that  would  have  astonished 
their  generations,  more  than  their  robust 
frames,  if  they  could  appear,  would  asto- 
nish ours.  Their  employment  was  in 
hunting  their  forests  for  food,  or  battling 
in  armour  with  risk  of  life  and  limb.  They 
had  no  counting-houses,  no  ledgers,  no 
commerce,  no  Christmas  bills,  no  letter- 
writing,  no  printing,  no  engraving,  no 
bending  over  the  desk,  no  "  wasting  of  the 
midnight  oil "  and  the  brain  together,  no 
financing,  not  a  hundredth  part  of  the 
relationships  in  society,  nor  of  the  cares 
that  we  have,  who  "  wassail"  as  they  did, 
and  wonder  we  are  not  so  strong  as  they 
were.  There  were  no  Popes  nor  Addi- 
sons  in  the  days  of  Nimrod. 

The  most  perfect  fragment  of  the  "  was- 
sail" exists  in  the  usage  of  certain  cor- 
poration festivals.  The  person  presiding 
stands  up  at  the  close  of  dinner,  and 
drinks  from  a  flaggon  usually  of  silver 
having  a  handle  on  each  side,  by  which 
he  holds  it  with  each  hand,  and  the  toast- 
master  announces  him  as  drinking  "  the 
health  of  his  brethren  out  of  the  *  loving 
cup.'  The  loving  cup,  which  is  the  an- 
cient wassail-bowl,  is  then  passed  to  the 
guest  on  his  left  hand,  and  by  him  to  his 
left-hand  neighbour,  and  as  it  finds  its 
way  round  the  r-cvm  to  each  guest  in  his 


13 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  1. 


14 


turn,  so  each  stands  up  and  drinks  to  the 
president  "  out  of  the  loving  cup." 


The  subsequent  song  is  sung  in  Glou- 
cestershire on  New-year's  eve  : — 


Wassail !  Wassail !  over  the  town, 
Our  toast  it  is  white,  our  ale  it  is  brown  : 
Our  bowl  it  is  made  of  a  maplin  tree, 
We  be  good  fellows  all ;  I  drink  to  thee. 

Here's  to  *****,  and  to  his  right  ear, 
God  send  our  maister  a  happy  New  Year ; 
A  happy  New  Year  as  e'er  he  did  see — 
With  my  Wassailing  bowl  I  drink  to  thee. 

Here's  to  *  *  *  *,  f  and  to  his  right  eye, 
God  send  our  mistress  a  good  Christmas  pie : 
A  good  Christmas  pie  as  e'er  I  did  see — 
With  my  Wassailing  bowl  I  drink  to  thee. 

Here's  to  Filpail,  J  and  her  long  tail, 
God  send  our  measter  us  never  may  fail 
Of  a  cup  of  good  beer ;  I  pray  jou  draw  near, 
And  then  you  shall  hear  our  jolly  wassail. 

Be  here  any  maids,  I  suppose  here  be  some ; 

Sure  they  will  not  let  young  men  stand  on  the  cold  stone 

Sing  hey  O  maids,  come  trole  back  the  pin, 

And  the  fairest  maid  in  the  house,  let  us  all  in. 

Come,  butler,  come  bring  us  a  bowl  of  the  best : 
I  hope  your  soul  in  Heaven  may  rest : 
But  if  you  do  bring  us  a  bowl  of  the  small, 
Then  down  fall  butler,  bowl,  and  all. 


Of  this  usage  in  Scotland,  commencing 
on  New-year's  eve,  there  was  not  room  in 
the  last  sheet  of  the  former  volume,  to  in- 
clude the  following  interesting  communica- 
tion. It  is,  here,  not  out  of  pi  ace,  because, 
in  fact,  the  usage  runs  into  the  morning 
of  the  New  Year. 

DAFT    DAYS. — HOGMANY. 

Jo  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, 

The  annexed  account  contains,  I  believe, 

the  first  notice  of  the  acting  in  our  Daft 

Days.     I  have  put  it  hurriedly  together, 

but,  if  of  use,  it  is  at  your  service. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

JOHN  WOOD  REDDOCK. 
Falkirk,  December,  1825. 

During  the  early  ages  of  Christianity, 
when  its  promulgation  among  the  barba- 


rous Celts  and  Gauls  had  to  contend  with 
the  many  obstacles  which  their  ignorance 
and  superstition  presented,  it  is  very 
probable  that  the  clergy,  when  they  were 
unable  entirely  to  abolish  pagan  rites, 
would  endeavour,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
twist  them  into  something  of  a  Christian 
cast ;  and  of  the  turn  which  many  heathen 
ceremonies  thus  received,  abundant  in- 
stances are  afforded  in  the  Romish 
church. 

The  performance  of  religious  MYSTE- 
RIES, which  continued  for  a  long  period, 
seems  to  have  been  accompanied  with 
much  licentiousness,  and  undoubtedly 
was  grafted  upon  the  stock  of  pagan  ob- 
servances. —  It  was  discovered,  how- 
ever, that  the  purity  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion could  not  tolerate  them,  and  they 
were  succeeded  by  the  MORALITIES,  the 
subjects  of  which  were  either  historical,  or 
some  existing  abuse,  that  it  was  wished 


*  The  name  of  some  horse. 


t  The  name  of  another  horse. 


I  The  name  of  a  cow. 


15 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  1. 


16 


to  aim  a  blow  at.  Of  this  we  have  an  in- 
teresting instance  in  an  account  given  by 
sir  William  Eure,  the  envoy  of  Henry 
the  Eighth  to  James  the  Fifth,  in  a  letter 
to  the  lord  privy  seal  of  England,  dated 
26th  of  January  1 540,  on  the  performance 
of  a  play,  or  morality,  written  by  the  cele- 
brated sir  David  Lindsay.  It  was  enti- 
tled The  Satire  of  the  Three  Estates,  and 
was  performed  at  Linlithgow,  "  before 
the  king,  queene,  and  the  whole  counsaill, 
spirituall  and  temporall,"  on  the  feast  of 
Epiphany.  It  gives  a  singular  proof  of 
•the  liberty  then  allowed,  by  king  James 
and  his  court  witnessing  the  exhibition  of 
a  piece,  in  which  the  corruptions  of  the 
existing  government  and  religion  were 
treated  with  the  most  satirical  severity. 

The  principal  dramatis  persona  were  a 
king,  a  bushop,  a  burges  man,  "  armed  in 
harness,  with  a  swerde  drawn  in  his 
hande,"  a  poor  man,  and  Experience, 
"  clede  like  ane  doctor."  The  poor  man 
(who  seems  to  have  represented  the  peo- 
ple) "looked  at  the  king,  and  said  he  was 
not  king  in  Scotland,  for  there  was  an- 
other king  in  Scotland  that  hanged  Johne 
Armstrong  with  his  fellows,  Sym  the 
laird,  and  mony  other  mae."  He  then 
makes  '  a  long  narracione  of  the  oppres- 
sion of  the  poor  by  the  taking  of  the  corse- 
presaunte  beits,  and  of  the  herrying  of 
poor  men  by  the  consistorye  lawe,  and  of 
mony  other  abusions  of  the  spiritualitie 
and  church.  Then  the  bushop  raised  and 
rebuked  him,  and  defended  himself.  Then 
the  man  of  arms  alleged  the  contrarie,  and 
commanded  the  poor  man  to  go  on.  The 
poor  man  proceeds  with  a  long  list  of  the 
bushop's  evil  practices,  the  vices  of  clois- 
ters, &c.  This  is  proved  by  EXPERIENCE, 
who,  from  a  New  Testament,  showes  the 
office  of  a  bishop.  The  man  of  arms  and 
burges  approve  of  all  that  was  said  against 
the  clergy,  and  allege  the  expediency  of  a 
reform,  with  the  consent  of  parliament. 
The  bushop  dissents.  The  man  of  arms 
and  burgea  said  they  were  two  and  he  but 
one,  wherefore  their  voice  should  have  the 
most  effect.  Thereafter  the  king  in  the 
play  ratified,  approved,  and  confirmed  all 
that  was  rehearsed." 

None  of  the  ancient  religious  observ- 
ances, which  have  escaped,  through  the 
riot  of  time  and  barbarism,  to  our  day, 
have  occasioned  more  difficulty  than  that 
which  forms  the  subject  of  these  remarks. 
It  is  remarkable,  that  in  all  disputed  ety- 
mological investigations,  a  number  of 
words  got  as  explanatory,  are  so  pro- 


vokingly  improbable,  that  decision  is  ren- 
dered extremely  difficult.  With  no  term 
is  this  more  the  case,  than  HOGMENAY.  So 
wide  is  the  field  of  conjecture,  as  to  the 
signification  of  this  word,  that  we  shall 
not  occupy  much  space  in  attempting  to 
settle  which  of  the  various  etymologies  is 
the  most  correct. 

Many  complaints  were  made  to  the 
Gallic  synods  of  the  great  excesses  com- 
mitted on  the  last  night  of  the  year  and 
first  of  January,  by  companies  of  both 
sexes  dressed  in  fantastic  habits,  who  ran 
about  with  their  Christmas  boxes,  calling 
tire  lire,  and  begging  for  the  lady  in  the 
straw  both  money  and  wassels.  The  chief 
of  these  strollers  was  called  Rollet  Follet. 
They  came  into  the  churches  during  the 
vigils,  and  disturbed  the  devotions.  A 
stop  was  put  to  this  in  1598,  at  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  bishop  of  Angres ;  but 
debarred  from  coming  to  the  churches, 
they  only  became  more  licentious,  and 
went  about  the  country  frightening  the 
people  in  their  houses,  so  that  the  legisla- 
ture having  interfered,  an  end  was  put  to 
the  practice  in  1668. 

The  period  during  the  continuance  of 
these  festivities  corresponded  exactly  with 
the  present  daft  days,  which,  indeed,  is 
nearly  a  translation  of  their  French  name 
f$tes  de  fous.  The  cry  used  by  the  ha- 
chelettes  during  the  sixteenth  century  has 
also  a  striking  resemblance  to  the  still 
common  cry  "  hogmenay  trololay — gi'us 
your  white  bread  and  nane  o'  your  grey," 
it  being  "  au  gui  menez,  Rollet  Follet,  au 
gui  menez,  tire"  lire,  mainte  du  blanc  et 
point  du  bis." 

The  word  Rollet  is,  perhaps,  a  corrup- 
tion of  the  ancient  Norman  invocation  of 
their  hero,  Rollo.  Gui,  however,  seems  to 
refer  to  the  druidical  custom  of  cutting 
branches  from  the  mistletoe  at  the  close  of 
the  year,  which  were  deposited  in  the 
temples  and  houses  with  great  ceremony. 
A  supposition  has  been  founded  upon 
the  reference  of  this  cry  to  the  birth  of  our 
Saviour,  and  the  arrival  of  the  wise  men 
from  the  east ;  of  whom  the  general  belief 
in  the  church  of  Rome  is,  that  they  were 
three  in  number.  Thus  the  language,  as 
borrowed  from  the  French  may  be  "  hom- 
me  est  ne,  trois  rois  allois  !"  A  man  is 
born,  three  kings  are  come  ! 

Others,  fond  of  referring  to  the  dark 
period  of  J;he  Goths,  imagine  that  this 
name  had*ts  origin  there.  Thus,  minne 
was  one  of  the  cups  drunk  at  the  feast  of 
Yule,  as  celebrated  in  the  times  of  hea- 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  1. 


18 


thenism,  and  oel  is  the  general  term  for 
festival.  The  night  before  Yule  was  called 
hoggin-nott,  or  hogenat,  signifying  the 
slaughter  night,  and  may  have  originated 
from  the  number  of  cattle  slaughtered  on 
that  night,  either  as  sacrifices,  or  in  pre- 
paration for  the  feast  on  the  following 
day.  They  worshipped  the  sun  under  the 
name  Thor.  Hence,  the  call  for  the  ce- 
lebration of  their  sacrifices  would  be 
"  Hogg-minne  !  Thor !  oel !  oel !"  Re- 
member your  sacrifices,  the  feast  of  Thor ! 
the  feast ! 

That  the  truth  lies  among  these  various 
explanations,  there  appears  no  doubt;  we 
however  turn  to  hogmenay  among  our- 
selves, and  although  the  mutilated  legend 
which  we  have  to  notice  remains  but  as  a 
few  scraps,  it  gives  an  idea  of  the  exist- 
ence of  a  custom  which  has  many  points 
of  resemblance  to  that  of  France  during 
the  fetes  dufous.  It  has  hitherto  escaped 
the  attention  of  Scottish  antiquaries. 

Every  person  knows  the  tenacious  ad- 
herence of  the  Scottish  peasantry  to  the 
tales  and  observances  of  auld  lang  syne. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  year  many  super- 
stitions are  to  this  day  strictly  kept  up 
among  the  country  people,  chiefly  as  con- 
nected with  their  cattle  and  crops.  Their 
social  feelings  now  get  scope,  and  while 
one  may  rejoice  that  he  has  escaped  diffi- 
culties and  dangers  during  the  past  year, 
another  looks  forward  with  bright  antici- 
pation for  better  fortune  in  the  year  to 
come.  The  bannock  of  the  oaten  cake  gave 
place  a  little  to  the  currant  loaf  and  bun, 
and  the  amories  of  every  cottager  have 
goodly  store  of  dainties,  invariably  includ- 
ing a  due  proportion  of  Scotch  drink.  The 
countenances  of  all  seem  to  say 

"  Let  mirth  abound ;  let  social  cheer 
Invest  the  dawnin'  o'  the  year, 
Let  blithsome  Innocence  appear 

To  crown  our  joy, 
Nor  envy  wi'  sarcastic  sneer, 

Our  bliss  destroy. 

When  merry  Yuleday  comes,  I  trow 
You'll  scantlings  find  a  hungry  mou  ; 
Sma*  are  our  cares,  our  stomacks  fu* 

O'  gusty  gear 
An'  kicksliaws,  strangers  to  our  view 

Sin'  fairnyear. 

Then  tho'  at  odds  wi'  a'  the  warl, 
Among  oursels  we'll  never  quarrel 
Though  discard  gie  a  canker'd  snarl 

To  spoil  our  glee, 
As  lang's  there  pith  into  the  barrel 

We'll  drink  and  gree  !" 
Ferguson's  Daft  Days. 


•  It  is  deemed  lucky  to  see  the  new  moon 
with  some  money  (silver)  in  tne  pocket. 
A  similar  idea  is  perhaps  connected  with 
the  desire  to  enter  the  new  year  rife  6* 
roughness.  The  grand  affair  among  the 
boys  in  the  town  is  to  provide  themselves 
v?iih  fausse  faces,  or  masks ;  and  those  with 
crooked  horns  and  beards  are  in  greatest 
demand.  A  high  paper  cap,  with  one  of 
their  great  grandfather's  antique  coats, 
then  equips  them  as  a  guisard — they  thus 
go  about  the  shops  seeking  their  hogme- 
nay. In  the  carses  and  moor  lands,  how- 
ever, parties  of  guisards  have  long  kept  up 
the  practice  in  great  style.  Fantastically 
dressed,  and  each  having  his  character  al- 
lotted him,  they  go  through  the  farm 
houses,  and  unless  denied  entrance  by 
being  told  that  the  OLD  STYLE  is  kept,  per- 
form what  must  once  have  been  a  con- 
nected dramatic  piece.  We  have  heard 
various  editions  of  this,  but  the  substance 
of  it  is  something  like  the  following : — 

One  enters  first  to  speak  the  prologue 
in  the  style  of  the  Chester  mysteries,  call- 
ed  the  Whitsun  plays,  and  which  appear 
to  have  been  performed  during  the  may- 
oralty of  John  Arneway,  who  filled  that 
office  in  Chester  from  1268  to  1276.  It 
is  usually  in  these  words  at  present — 

Rise  up  gudewife  and  shake  your  feathers  ; 

Dinna  think  that  we're  beggars, 

We  are  bairns  com'd  to  play 

And  for  to  seek  our  hogmenay ; 

Redd  up  stocks,  redd  up  stools, 

Here  comes  in  a  pack  o'  fools.* 

Muckle  head  and  little  wit  stand  behint  the 
door, 

But  sic  a  set  as  we  are,  ne'er  were  here  be- 
fore. 

One  with  a  sword,  who  corresponds 
with  the  Rollet,  now  enters  and  says  : 

Here  conies  in  the  great  king  of  Macedon, 
Who  has  conqtier'd  all  the  world  but  Scot- 
land alone. 
When  I  came  to  Scotland  my  heart  grew  so 

cold 

To  see  a  little  nation  so  stout  and  so  bold, 
So  stout  and  so  bold,  so  frank  and  so  free  I 
Call  upon  Galgacus  to  fight  wi'  me 

If  national  partiality  does  not  deceive 
us,  we  think  this  speech  points  out  the 
origin  of  the  story  to  be  the  Roman  in- 
vasion under  Agricola,  and  the  name  of 
Galgacus  (although  Galacheus  and  Sain^ 

*  The  author  of  Waverly,  in  a  note  to  the  Abbot, 
mentions  three  Moralities  played  during  the  time  of 
the  reformation— The  Abbot  of  Unreason,  The  Bt«) 
Bishop,  and  the  Pepe  o'  Fools — may  not  pack  o'joolt 
be  a  corruption  of  this  last  i 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK^-JANUARY  1. 


'•9 


Lawrence  are  sometimes  substituted,  but 
most  probably  as  corruptions)  makes  the 
famous  struggle  for  freedom  by  the  Scots 
under  that  leader,  in  the  battle  fought  at 
the  foot  of  the  Grampians,  the  subject  of 
this  historical  drama. 

Enter  Galgacus. 
Here  comes  in  Galgacus — wha  doesna  fear 

my  name  ? 
Sword  and  buckler  by  my  side,  I  hope  to  win 

the  game ! 

They  close  in  a  sword  fight,  and  in  the 
"hash  smash"    the   chief  is  victorious. 
He  says : 
Down  Jack  !  down  to  the  ground  you  must 

go — 

Oh  O !  what's  this  I've  done  ? 
I've  killed  my  brother  Jack,  my  father's 

only  son  ! 
Call  upon  the  doctor. 

Enter  Doctor  (saying) 
Here  comes  in  the  best  doctor  that  ever 
Scotland  bred. 

Chief.  What  can  you  cure  ? 
The  doctor  then  relates  his  skill  in  sur- 
gery. 

Chief.  What  will  ye  tak  to  cure  this 
man? 

Doctor.  Ten  pound  and  a  bottle  of 
wine. 

Chief.  Will  six  not  do  ? 
Doctor.  No,  you  must  go  higher. 
Chief.  Seven? 

Doctor.  That  will  not  put  on  the  pot, 
&c. 

A  bargain  however  is  struck,  and  the 
Doctor  says  to  Jack,  start  to  your  feet  and 
stand ! 

Jack.  Oh  hon,  my  back,  I'm  sairly 
wounded. 

Doctor.  What  ails  your  back  ? 
Jack.  There's  a  hole  in't  you  may  turn 
your  tongue  ten  times  round  it ! 
Doctor.  How  did  you  get  it? 
Jack.  Fighting  for  our  land. 
Doctor.  How  mony  did  you  kill  ? 
Jack.  I  killed  a'  the  loons  save  ane, 
but  he  ran,  he  wad  na  stand. 

Here,  most  unfortunately,  there  is  a 
"  hole  Vthe  ballad,'  a  hiatus  which  irre- 
parably closes  the  door  upon  our  keenest 
prying.  During  the  late  war  with  France 
Jack  was  made  to  say  he  had  been  "  fight- 
ing the  French,"  and  that  the  loon  who 
took  leg  bail  was  no  less  a  personage  than 
NAP.  le  grand  !  Whether  we  are  to  re- 
gard this  as  a  dark  prophetic  anticipation 
of  what  did  actually  take  place,  seems 


really  problematical.  The  strange  event- 
ful history  however  is  wound  up  by  the 
entrance  of  Judas  with  the  bag.  He  says : 

Here  comes  in  Judas— Judas  is  my  name, 
If  ye  pit  nought  sillar  i'my  bag,  for  gude- 

sake  mind  our  wame ! 
When  I  gaed  to  the  castle  yett  and  tint  at 

the  pin, 
They  keepit  the  keys  o'  the  castle  wa  ,  and 

,      wad  na  let  me  iu. 
I've  been  i'  the  east  carse, 
I've  been  i*  the  west  carse, 
IVe  been  i'  the  carse  o'  Cowrie, 
Where  the  clouds  rain  a'  day  wi'  peas  and 

wi'  beans  ! 
And  the   farmers  theek  houses  wi'  needles 

and  prim! 

I've  seen  geese  ga'in*  on  pattens  ! 
And  swine  fleeing  i'  the  air  like  peelings  o' 

onions ! 
Our  hearts  are  made  o'  steel,  but  our  body's 

sma'  as  ware, 
If  you've  ouything  to  gi'  us,  stop  it  in  there! 

This  character  in  the  piece  seems  to 
mark  its  ecclesiastical  origin,  being  of 
course  taken  from  the  office  of  the  betrayer 
in  the  New  Testament ;  whom,  by  the  way, 
he  resembles  in  another  point ;  as  extreme 
jealousy  exists  among  the  party,  this  per- 
sonage appropriates  to  himself  the  contents 
of  the  bag  The  money  and  ivassel,  which 
usually  consists  offarles  of  short  bread,  or 
cakes  and  pieces  of  cheese,  are  therefore 
frequently  counted  out  before  the  whole. 

One  of  the  guisards  who  has  the  best 
voice,  generally  concludes  the  exhibition 
by  singing  an  "  auld  Scottish  sang."  The 
most  ancient  melodies  only  are  consi- 
dered appropriate  for  this  occasion,  and 
many  very  fine  ones  are  often  sung  that 
have  not  found  their  way  into  collections  : 
or  the  group  join  in  a  reel,  lightly  tripping 
it,  although  encumbered  with  buskins  of 
straw  wisps,  to  the  merry  sound  of  the 
fiddle,  which  used  to  form  a  part  of  the 
establishment  of  these  itinerants.  They 
anciently  however  appear  to  have  been  ac- 
companied with  a  musician,  who  played 
the  kythels,  or  stock-and-horn,  a  musical 
instrument  made  of  the  thigh  bone  of  a 
sheep  and  the  horn  of  a  bullock. 

The  above  practice,  like  many  customs 
of  the  olden  time,  is  now  quickly  falling 
into  disuse,  and  the  revolution  of  a  few 
years  may  witness  the  total  extinction  of 
this  seasonable  doing.  That  there  does 
still  exist  in  other  places  of  Scotland  the 
remnants  of  plays  performed  upon  similar 
occasions,  and  which  may  contain  many 
interesting  allusions,  is  very  likely.  Thji 


21 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  f. 


22 


noticed  above,  however,  is  the  first  which 
we  remember  of  seeing  noticed  in  a  par- 
ticular manner. 

The  kirk  of  Scotland  appears  formerly 
to  have  viewed  these  festivities  exactly  as 
the  Roman  church  in  France  did  in  the 
sixteenth  century ;  and,  as  a  proof  of  this, 
and  of  the  style  in  which  the  sport  was  an- 
ciently conducted  in  the  parish  of  Falkirk, 
we  have  a  remarkable  instance  so  late  as 
the  year  1 702.  A  great  number  of  farmers' 
sons  and  farm  servants  from  the  "  East 
Carse  "  were  publicly  rebuked  before  the 
session,  or  ecclesiastical  court,  for  going 
about  in  disguise  upon  the  last  night  of 
December  that  year,  "  acting  things  un- 
seemly ;"  and  having  professed  their  sor- 
row for  the  sinfulness  of  the  deed,  were 
certified  if  they  should  be  found  guilty  of 
the  like  in  time  coming,  they  would  be 
proceeded  against  after  another  manner. 
Indeed  the  scandalized  kirk  might  have 
been  compelled  to  put  the  cutty  stool  in 
requisition,  as  a  consequence  of  such  pro- 
miscuous midnight  meetings. 

The  observance  of  the  old  custom  of 
"  first  fits  "  upon  New-year's  day  is  kept 
up  at  Falkirk  with  as  much  spirit  as  any 
where  else.  Both  Old  and  New  Style 
have  their  "  keepers,"  although  many  of 
the  lower  classes  keep  them  in  rather  a 
"  disorderly  style."  Soon  as  the  steeple 
clock  strikes  the  ominous  tivelve,  all  is 
running,  and  bustle,  and  noise;  hot-pints 
in  clear  scoured  copper  kettles  are  seen 
in  all  directions,  and  a  good  noggin  to  the 
well-known  toast,  "  A  gude  new  year,  and 
a  merry  han'sel  Monday,"  is  exchanged 
among  the  people  in  the  streets,  as  well 
as  friends  in  the  houses.  On  han'sel 
Monday  O.  S.  the  numerous  colliers  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  town  liave  a 
grand  main  of  cocks  ;  but  there  is  nothing 
in  these  customs  peculiar  to  the  season. 

Falkirk,  1825.  J.  W.  R. 

ANNUAL  JOCULAR  TENURE. 

The  following  are  recorded  particulars 
of  a  whimsical  custom  in  Yorkshire,  by 
which  a  right  of  sheep-ivalk  is  held  by  the 
tenants  of  a  manor  :— 

Hutton  Conyers,  Com,  York. 

Near  this  town,  which  lies  a  few  miles 
from  Ripon,  there  is  a  large  common, 
called  Hutton  Conyers  Moor,  whereof 
William  Aislabie,  esq.  of  Studley  Royal, 
(lord  of  the  manor  of  Hutton  Conyers,) 
is  lord  of  the  soil,  and  on  which  there  is  a 


large  coney-warren  belonging  to  the  lord. 
The  occupiers  of  messuages  and  cottages 
within  the  several  towns  of  Hutton  Co- 
nyers, Baldersby,  Rainton,  Dishforth,  and 
Hewick,  have  right  of  estray  for  their  sheep 
to  certain  limited  boundaries  on  the  com- 
mon, and  each  township  has  a  shepherd. 

The  lord's  shepherd  has  a  preeminence 
of  tending  his  sheep  on  every  part  of  the 
common  ;  and  wherever  he  herds  the 
lord's  sheep,  the  several  other  shepherds 
are  to  give  way  to  him,  and  give  up  their 
hoofing-place,  so  long  as  he  pleases  to 
depasture  the  lord's  sheep  thereon.  The 
lord  holds  his  court  the  first  day  in  the 
year,  to  entitle  those  several  townships  to 
such  right  of  estray ;  the  shepherd  of  each 
township  attends  the  court,  and  does 
fealty,  by  bringing  to  the  court  a  large 
apple-pie,  and  a  twopenny  sweetcake, 
(except  the  shepherd  of  Hewick,  who 
compounds  by  paying  sixteen  pence  for 
ale,  which  is  drank  as  after  mentioned,) 
and  a  wooden  spoon  ;  each  pie  is  cut  in 
two,  and  divided  by  the  bailiff,  one  half 
between  the  steward,  bailiff,  and  the  te- 
nant of  the  coney-warren  before  men- 
tioned, and  the  other  half  into  six  parts, 
and  divided  amongst  the  six  shepherds  of 
the  above  mentioned  six  townships.  In 
the  pie  brought  by  the  shepherd  of  Rain- 
ton  an  inner  one  is  made,  filled  with 
prunes.  The  cakes  are  divided  in  the 
same  manner.  The  bailiff  of  the  manor 
provides  furmety  and  mustard,  and  deli- 
vers to  each  shepherd  a  slice  of  cheese 
and  a  penny  roll.  The  furmety,  well 
mixed  with  mustard,  is  put  into  an  earthen 
pot,  and  placed  in  a  hole  in  the  ground, 
in  a  garth  belonging  to  the  bailiff's  house; 
to  which  place  the  steward  of  the  court, 
with  the  bailiff,  tenant  of  the  warren,  and 
six  shepherds,  adjourn  with  their  respective 
wooden  spoons.  The  bailiff  provides 
spoons  for  the  stewards,  the  tenant  of  the 
warren,  and  himself.  The  steward  first 
pays  respect  to  the  furmety,  by  taking  a 
large  spoonful,  the  bailiff  has  the  next 
honour,  the  tenant  of  the  warren  next, 
then  the  shepherd  of  Hutton  Conyers,  and 
afterwards  the  other  shepherds  by  regular 
turns  ;  then  each  person  is  served  with  a 
glass  of  ale,  (paid  for  by  the  sixteen  pence 
brought  by  the  Hetvick  shepherd,)  and  the 
health  of  the  lord  of  the  manor  is  drank ; 
then  they  adjourn  back  to  the  bailiffs 
house,  and  the  further  business  of  the 
court  is  proceeded  in. 

Each  pie  contains  about  a  peck  of 
flour,  is  about  sixteen  or  eighteen  inches 


23 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  I. 


24 


diameter,  and  as  large  as  will  go  into  the     a  plentiful  dinner  in  the  servants'  hall ; 

mouth  of  an  ordinary  oven.     The  bailiff'    and  after  dinner  they  also  receive  prizes 

of  the  manor  measures  them  with  a  rule,     "      ""    ' 

and  takes  the  diameter ;  and  if  they  are 

not  of  a  sufficient  capacity,  he  threatens 

to  return  them,  and   fine  the  town.     If 

they  are  large  enough,  he  divides  them 

with  a  rule  and  compasses  into  four  equal 

parts ;  of  which  the  steward  claims  one, 

the  warrener  another,  and  the  remainder 

Li   divided   amongst  the   shepherds.     In 

respect  to  the  furmety,  the  top  of  the  dish 

in  which  it  is  put  is  placed  level  with  the 

surface  of  the  ground  ;  all  persons  present 

are  invited  to  eat  of  it,  and  those  who  do 

not,  are  not  deemed  loyal  to  the  lord. 

Every  shepherd  is  obliged  to  eat  of  it,  and 

for  that  purpose  is  to  take  a  spoon  in  his 

pocket  to  the  court ;  for  if  any  of  them 

neglect  to  carry  a  spoon  with  him,  he  is 

to  lay  him  down  upon  his  belly,  and  sup  _  .  .      -— -_ 

the  furmety  with  his  face  to  the  pot  or    On  the  head  of  each  bald  Pated  tree- 

dish  at  which  time  it  is  usual    by  way  of    Now  wild  duck  and  wid          abound 

sport,  for  some   of  the  bystanders  to  dip     Snipes  sit  by  the  half  frozen  rills  • 

his  face  into  the  furmety;  and  sometimes     Where  woodcocks  are  frequently  found, 

a  shepherd,  for  the  sake  of  diversion,  will    That  sport  such  amazing  long  bills. 

purposely  leave  his  spoon  at  home.* 

The  winds  blow  out  shrilly  and  hoarse, 

And  the  rivers  are  choking  with  ice  ; 
And  it  comes  as  a  matter  of  course, 
That  Wallsends  are  rising  in  price. 


for  their  good  conduct  as  teachers,  and 
their  diligence  as  scholars. 

I  am,  &c. 

J.S. 

ODE    TO    THE    NEW    YEAR. 
BY 

A  Gentleman  of  Literary  Habits  and  Means. 
For  the  Every-day  Book. 

All  hail  to  the  birth  of  the  year, 
See  golden  haired  Phoebus  afar ; 
Prepares  to  renew  his  career, 
And  is  mounting  his  dew  spangled  car. 

Stern  Winter  congeals  every  brook, 
That  murmured  so  lately  with  glee  ; 
And  places  a  snowy  peruke, 


NEW-YEAR  S  DAY  IN  SUSSEX. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, 

A  practice  which  well  deserves  to  be 
known  and  imitated  is  established  at 
Maresfield-park,  Sussex,  the  seat  of  sir 
John  Shelley,  bart.  M.  P.  Rewards  are 
annually  given  on  New-year's  day  to  such 
of  the  industrious  poor  in  the  neighbour- 
hood as  have  not  received  parish  relief, 
and  have  most  distinguished  themselves 
by  their  good  behaviour  and  industry,  the 
neatness  of  their  cottages  and  gardens, 
anil  their  constant  attendance  at  church, 
&c.  The  distribution  is  made  by  lady 
Shelley,  assisted  by  other  ladies ;  and  it 
is  gratifymg  to  observe  the  happy  effects 
upon  the  character  and  disposition  of  the 
poor  people  with  which  this  benevolent 
practice  has  been  attended  during  the  few 
years  it  has  been  established.  Though 
the  highest  reward  does  not  exceed  two 
guineas,  yet  it  has  excited  a  wonderful 
spirit  of  emulation,  and  many  a  strenuous 
effort  to  avoid  receiving  money  from  the 
parisn.  Immediately  as  the  rewards  are 
given,  all  (he  children  belonging  to  the 
Sunday-school  and  national-school  lately 
established  in  the  parish,  are  set  down  to 

*  Bloum's  Dug.  Antiq.  by  Beckwith. 


Alas  !  for  the  poor  !  as  unwilling 
I  gaze  on  each  famishing  group ; 
I  never  miss  giving  a  shilling, 
To  the  parish  subscription  for  soup. 

The  wood  pigeon,  sacred  to  love, 
Is  wheeling  in  circles  on  high  ; 
How  charming  he  looks  in  the  grove  ' 
How  charming  he  looks  in  the  pie  ' 

Now  gone  is  St.  Thomas's  day, 
The  shortest,  alas  !  in  the  year. 
And  Christmas  is  hasting  away, 
With  its  holly  and  berries  and  beer, 

And  the  old  year  for  ever  is  gone, 
With  the  tabor,  the  pipe,  and  the  dance  ; 
And  gone  is  our  collar  of  brawn, 
And  gone  is  the  mermaid  to  France. 

The  scythe  and  the  hour  glass  of  time, 
Those  fatal  mementos  of  woe, 
Seem  to  utter  in  accents  sublime, 
"  We  are  all  of  us  going  to  go  !" 


We  are  truly  and  agreeably  informet 
by  the  "  Mirror  of  the  Months,"  thai 
"  Now  periodical  works  put  on  their  best 
attire  ;  the  old  ones  expressing  their  deter- 
mination to  become  new,  and  the  new 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  2,  3. 


26 


ones  to  become  old ;  and  each  makes  a 
point  of  putting  forth  the  first  of  some 
pleasant  series  (such  as  this,  for  example !), 
which  cannot  fail  to  fix  the  most  fugitive 
of  readers,  and  make  him  her  own  for 
another  twelve  months  at  least." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 

Under  this  head  it  is  proposed  to  place 
the  "  Mean  temperature  of  every  day  in 
the  Year  for  London  and  its  environs,  on 
an  average  of  Twenty  Years,"  as  deduced 
by  Mr.  Howard,  from  observations  com- 
mencing with  the  year  1797,  and  ending 
with  1816. 

For  the  first  three  years,  Mr.  Howard's 
observations  were  conducted  at  Plaistow, 
a  village  about  three  miles  and  a  half 
N.  N.  E.  of  the  Royal  Observatory  at 
Greenwich,  four  miles  E.  of  the  edge  of 
London,  with  the  Thames  a  mile  and  a 
half  to  the  S.,  and  an  open  level  country, 
for  the  most  part  well-drained  land, 
around  it.  The  thermometer  was  attached 
to  a  post  set  in  the  ground,  under  a  Por- 
tugal laurel,  and  from  the  lowness  of  this 
tree,  the  whole  instrument  was  within 
three  feet  of  the  turf;  it  had  the  house 
and  offices,  buildings  of  ordinary  height,  to 
the  S.  and  S.E.  distant  about  twenty  yards, 
but  was  in  other  respects  freely  exposed. 

For  the  next  three  years,  the  observa- 
tions were  made  partly  at  Plaistow  and 
partly  at  Mr.  Howard's  laboratory  at 
Stratford,  a  mile  and  a  half  to  the  N.W., 
on  ground  nearly  of  the  same  elevation. 
The  thermometer  had  an  open  N.  W. 
exposure,  at  six  feet  from  the  ground, 
close  to  the  river  Lea. 

The  latter  observations  were  made  at 
Tottenham-green,  four  miles  N.  of  London, 
which  situation,  as  the  country  to  the  N.  W. 
especially  is  somewhat  hilly  and  more 
wooded,  Mr.  Howard  considers  more 
sheltered  than  the  former  site;  the  elevation 
of  the  ground  is  a  trifle  greater,  and  the 
thermometer  was  about  ten  feet  from  the 
general  level  of  the  garden  before  it,  with 
a  very  good  exposure  N.,  but  not  quite 
enough  detached  from  the  house,  having 
been  affixed  to  the  outer  door-case,  in  a 
frame  which  gave  it  a  little  projection, 
and  admitted  the  air  behind  it. 

On  this  day,  then,  the  average  of  these 
twenty  years'  observations  gives 

Mean  Temperature  ...  36-57. 


It  is,  further,  proposed  to  notice  certain 
astronomical  and  meteorological  pheno- 
mena ;  the  migration  and  singing  of 
birds ;  the  appearance  of  insects ;  the 
leafing  and  flowering  of  plants ;  and  other 
particulars  peculiar  to  animal,  vegetable, 
and  celestial  existences.  These  observa- 
tions will  only  be  given  from  sources 
thouMighly  authentic,  and  the  authorities 
will  be  subjoined.  Communications  for 
this  department  will  be  gladly  received. 


Sanuarp  2. 

St.  Concord. 

Is  said,  by  his  English  biographer  Butler, 
to  have  been  a  sub-deacon  in  a  desert, 
martyred  at  Spoletto,  about  the  year  178  ; 
whereto  the  same  biographer  adds,  "  In 
the  Roman  Martyrology  his  name  occurs 
on  the  first,  in  some  others  on  the  second 
of  January."  The  infallible  Roman  church, 
to  end  the  discord,  rejects  the  authority 
of  the  "  Roman  Martyrology,"  and  keeps 
the  festival  of  Concord  on  the  second  of 
January. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  35  •  92. 

Sfamtarp  3 

THE  RIDDLE  OF  THE  YEAR, 

By  Cleobnlus. 

There  is  a  father  with  twice  six  sons ; 
these  sons  have  thirty  daughters  a-piece, 
party-coloured,  having  one  cheek  white 
and  the  other  black,  who  never  see  each 
other's  face,  nor  live  above  twenty-four 
hours. 

Cleobulus,  to  whom  this  riddle  is  attri- 
buted, was  one  of  the  seven  wise  men  of 
Greece,  who  lived  about  570  years  before 
the  birth  of  Christ, 

Riddles  are  of  the  highest  antiquity; 
the  oldest  on  record  is  in  the  book  of 
Judges  xiv.  14 — 18.  We  are  told  by 
Plutarch,  that  the  girls  of  his  times  worked 
at  netting  or  sewing,  and  the  most  inge- 
nious "  made  riddles." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  35  •  60. 


27 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-JANUARY  4,  5. 


23 


Sfanuarp  4. 

Prepare  for  Twelftf^day. 
The  "  Mirror  of  the  Months,"  a  reflector 
of  "  The  Months"  by  Mr.  Leigh  Hunt, 
enlarged  to  include  other  objects,  adopts, 
"  Above  all  other  proverbs,  that  which 
says,  '  There's  nothing  like  the  time  pre- 
sent/—partly  because  *  the  time  present ' 
is  but  a  periphrasis  for  Now !"  The  se- 
ries of  delightful  things  which  Mr.  Hunt 
links  together  by  the  word  Now  in  his 
"  Indicator,"  is  well  remembered,  and  his 
pleasant  disciple  tells  us,  "  Now,  then, 
the  cloudy  canopy  of  sea-coal  smoke  that 
hangs  over  London,  and  crowns  her  queen 
of  capitals,  floats  thick  and  threefold  ;  for 
fires  and  feastings  are  rife,  and  everybody 
is  either  '  out '  or  *  at  home '  every  night. 
Now,  if  a  frosty  day  or  two  does  happen 
to  pay  us  a  flying  visit,  on  its  way  to  the 
North  Pole,  how  the  little  boys  make 
slides  on  the  pathways,  for  lack  of  ponds, 
and,  it  may  be,  trip  up  an  occasional 
housekeeper  just  as  he  steps  out  of  his 
own  door;  who  forthwith  vows  vengeance, 
in  the  shape  of  ashes,  on  all  the  slides  in 
his  neighbourhood,  not,  doubtless,  out  of 
vexation  at  his  own  mishap,  and  revenge 
against  the  petty  perpetrators  of  it,  but 
purely  to  avert  the  like  from  others  I— 
Now  the  bloom-buds  of  the  fruit-trees, 
which  the  late  leaves  of  autumn  had  con- 
cealed from  the  view,  stand  confessed, 
upon  the  otherwise  bare  branches,  and, 
dressed  in  their  patent  wind-and-water- 
proof  coats,  brave  the  utmost  severity  of 
the  season, — their  hard,  unpromising  out- 
sides,  compared  with  the  forms  of  beauty 
which  they  contain,  reminding  us  of  their 
friends  the  butterflies,  when  in  the  chry- 
salis state. — Now  the  labour  of  the  hus- 
bandman is,  for  once  in  the  year,  at  a 
stand ;  and  he  haunts  the  alehouse  fire, 
or  lolls  listlessly  over  the  half-door  of  the 
village  smithy,  and  watches  the  progress 
of  the  labour  which  he  unconsciously  en- 
vies ;  tasting  for  once  in  his  life  (without 
knowing  it)  the  bitterness  of  that  ennui 
which  he  begrudges  to  his  betters. — Now, 
melancholy-looking  men  wander  *  by 
twos  and  threes'  through  market-towns, 
with  their  faces  as  blue  as  the  aprons  that 
are  twisted  round  their  waists ;  their  in- 
effectual rakes  resting  on  their  shoulders, 
and  a  withered  cabbage  hoisted  upon  a 
pole ;  and  sing  out  their  doleful  petition 
of  '  Pray  remember  the  poor  gardeners, 
who  can  get  no  work !'  " 


Now,  however,  not  to  conclude  mourn- 
fully, let  us  remember  that  the  officers 
and  some  of  the  principal  inhabitants  of 
most  parishes  in  London,  preceded  by 
their  beadle  in  the  full  majesty  of  a  full 
great  coat  and  gold  laced  hat,  with  his 
walking  staff  of  state  higher  than  him- 
self, and  headed  by  a  goodly  polished 
silver  globe,  go  forth  from  the  vestry 
room,  and  call  on  every  chief  parishioner 
for  a  voluntary  contribution  towards  a 
provision  for  cheering  the  abode  of  the 
needy  at  this  cheerful  season  : — and  now 
the  unfeeling  and  mercenary  urge  "  false 
pretences"  upon  "  public  grounds,"  with 
the  vain  hope  of  concealing  their  private 
reasons  for  refusing  "  public  charity  :" — 
and  notv,  the  upright  and  kind-hearted 
welcome  the  annual  call,  and  dispense 
bountifully.  Their  prosperity  is  a  blessing. 
Each  scattereth  and  yet  increaseth ;  their 
pillows  are  pillows  of  peace ;  and  at  the 
appointed  time,  they  lie  down  with  their 
fathers,  and  sleep  the  sleep  of  just  men 
made  perfect,  in  everlasting  rest. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  36-  42. 


TWELFTH-DAY    EVE. 

Agricultural  Custom. 
In  the  parish  of  Pauntley,  a  village  on 
the  borders  of  the  county  of  Gloucester, 
next  Worcestershire,  and  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, "  a  custom,  intended  to  pre- 
vent the  smut  in  wheat,  in  some  respect 
resembling  the  Scotch  Beltein,  prevails." 
"  On  the  eve  of  Twelfth-day  all  the  ser- 
vants of  every  farmer  assemble  together 
in  one  of  the  fields  that  has  been  sown 
with  wheat.  At  the  end  of  twelve  lands, 
they  make  twelve  fires  in  a  row  with 
straw  ;  around  one  of  which,  made  larger 
than  the  rest,  they  drink  a  cheerful  glass 
of  cyder  to  their  master's  health,  and  suc- 
cess to  the  future  harvest  ;  then,  returning 
home,  they  feast  on  cakes  made  of  cara- 
ways, &c.  soaked  in  cyder,  which  they 
claim  as  a  reward  for  their  past  labours  in 
sowing  the  grain.''* 


Credulity  and  Incredulity. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  year  1825,  the 
flimsiest  bubbles   of  the  most  bungling 

*  Rudge's  Gloucester. 


29 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  5. 


30 


projectors  obtained  the  public  confidence; 
at  the  close  of  the  year  that  confidence 
was  refused  to  firms  and  establishments 
of  unquestionable  security.  Just  before 
Christmas,  from  sudden  demands  greatly 
beyond  the  amounts  which  were  ready 
for  ordinary  supply,  bankers  in  London 
of  known  respectability  stopped  pay- 
ment ;  the  panic  became  general  through- 
out the  kingdom,  and  numerous  country 
banks  failed,  the  funds  fell,  Exchequer 
bills  were  at  a  heavy  discount,  and  public 
securities  of  every  description  suffered 
material  depression.  This  exigency  ren- 
dered prudence  still  more  circumspect, 
and  materially  retarded  the  operations 
of  legitimate  business,  to  the  injury  of  all 
persons  engaged  in  trade.  In  several 
manufacturing  districts,  transactions  of 
every  kind  were  suspended,  and  manu- 
factories wholly  ceased  from  work. 

EXCHEQUER    BILLS. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir,  , 

As  just  at  this  time  it  may  be  interest- 
ing to  many  of  your  readers,  to  know  the 
origin  of  Exchequer  bills;  I  send  you  the 
following  account 

In  the  years  1696  and  1697,  the  silver 
currency  of  the  kingdom  being,  by  clip- 

Sing,  washing,  grinding,  filing,  &c.  re- 
uced  to  about  half  its  nominal  value, 
acts  of  parliament  were  passed  for  its 
being  called  in,  and  re-coined  ;  but 
whilst  the  re-coinage  was  going  on  ex- 
chequer bills  were  first  issued,  to  supply 
the  demands  of  trade.  The  quantity  of 
silver  re-coined,  according  to  D'Avenant, 
from  the  old  hammered  money,  amount- 
ed to  5,725,933^.  It  is  worthy  of  remark, 
that  through  the  difficulties  experienced 
by  the  Bank  of  England  (which  had  been 
established  only  three  years,)  during  the 
re-coinage,  they  having  taken  the  clipped 
silver  at  its  nominal  value,  and  guineas 
at  an  advanced  price,  bank  notes  were  in 
1697  at  a  discount  of  from  15  to  20  per 
cent.  "During  the  re-coinage,"  says 


treasure,  which  the  war  and  our  losses  at 
sea  had  drawn  out  of  the  nation." 

I  am,  &c. 
J.  G. 


THE  CHRISTMAS  DAYS. 
A  Family  Sketch. 

Bring  me  a  garland  of  holly, 

Rosemary,  ivy,  and  bays ; 
Gravity's  nothing  but  folly, 

Till  after  the  Christmas  day 

Fill  out  a  glass  of  Bucellas  ; 

Here  ! — boys  put   the  crown  on   my 

head  : 

Now,  boys  ! — shake  hands — be  good  fel- 
lows, 
And  all  be — good  men — when  I'm  dead. 

Come,  girls,  come  !  now  for  your  kisses. 

Hearty  ones — louder — loud — louder ' 
How  Fm  surrounded  with  blisses  ! 

Proud  men  may  here  see  a  prouder. 

Now,  you  rogues,  go  kiss  your  mother  : — 
Ah  !  ah ! — she  won't  let  you  ? — pho  ! 

pho  ! 
Gently — there,  there  now  ! — don't  smo  • 

ther  :— 
Old  lady  !  come,  now  I'll  kiss  you. 

Here  take  the  garland,  and  wear  it ; 

'  Nay,   nay ! '  but  you  must,  and  you 

shall ; 
For,  here's  suck  a  kiss! — come,  don't  fear  it; 

If  you  do — turn  round  to  the  wall. 

A  kiss  too  for  Number  Eleven, 

The  Newcome — the  young  Christmas 

berry — 

My  Alice  ! — who  makes  my  girls  seven, 
And    makes    merry    Christmas    more 
merry. 

Another  good  glass  of  Bucellas, 
While  I've  the  crown  on  my  head  ; 

Laugh  on  my  good  girls,  and  good  fel- 
lows, 
Till  it's  off— then  off  to  bed. 


D'Avenant,  "all  great  dealings  were 
transacted  by  tallies,  bank-bills,  and  gold- 
smiths' notes.  Paper  credit  did  not  only 
supply  the  place  of  running  cash,  but  December  30,  1825. 
greatly  multiplied  the  kingdom's  stock ; 
for  tallies  and  bank-bills  did  to  many 
uses  serve  as  well,  and  to  some  better  than 
gold  and  silver ;  and  this  artificial  wealth 
which  necessity  had  introduced,  did 
make  us  less  feel  the  want  of  that  real 


Hey  ! — now,  for  the  Christmas  holly, 

Rosemary,  ivy,  and  bays  ; 
Gravity's  nothing  but  folly, 

Till  after  the  Christmas  days. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature.  .  .  37  •  47. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JA  NUAKY  6. 


;v\ 


' 


The  bean  found  out,  and  monarch  crown  d, 
He  dubs  a  fool,  and  sends  him  round, 
To  raise  the  frolic  when  it's  low  — 
Himself  commands  the  wine  to  flow. 
Each  watches  for  the  king  to  quaff, 
When,  all  at  once,  up  springs  the  laugh  ; 
They  cry  "  The  king  drinks  !"  and  away 
They  shout  a  long  and  loud  huzza! 
And  when  it's  ended  conies  the  dance, 
And—  thus  is  Twelfth-night  spent  in  France. 


Sanuarp  6. 

Epiphany.— Old  Chrtstmas-dav. 
Holiday  at  the  Public-offices. 

TWELFTH-DAY. 

It  is  only  in  certain  rural  parts  of 
France  that  the  merriments  represented 
above  still  prevail.  The  engraving  is 
from  an  old  print,  "  I.  Marriette  ex." 
inscribed  as  in  the  next  column. 


"  L'HlVER. 

Les  Divertissements  du  Roi-boit. 

Loin  dicy  mille  soins  facheux, 
Que  porte  avec  soy  la  coronne  ; 
Celle  qua  table  Bacrhus  donne 
Ne  fit  Jamais  de  malheureux." 

This   print    may  be  regarded   a   faithful 
picture  of  the  almost  obsolete  usage. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  6. 


During  the  holidays,  and  especially  on 
Twelfth-night,  school-boys  dismiss  "  the 
cares  and  the  fears"  of  academic  rule ;  or 
they  are  regarded  but  as  a  passing  cloud, 
intercepting  only  for  an  instant  the  sun- 
shine of  joy  wherewith  their  sports  are 
brightened.  Gerund-grinding  and  pars- 
ing are  usually  prepared  for  at  the  last 


moment,  until  when  "  the  master's  chair" 
is  only  u  remembered  to  be  forgotten." 
There  is  entire  suspension  of  the  autho- 
rity of  that  class,  by  whom  the  name  of 
"  Busby"  is  venerated,  till  "  Black  Mon- 
day" arrives,  and  chaises  and  stages  con- 
vey the  young  Christmas-keepers  to  the 
"  seat  of  government." 


n.— 54. 


29n 


Him  !  sui  generis,  alone, 

Busby  !  the  great  substantive  noun  ! 

Whose  look  was  lightning,  and  whose  word 

Was  thunder  to  the  boys  who  heard, 

Is,  as  regards  his  long  vocation, 

Pictured  by  this  his  great  location. 

Look  on  it  well,  boys,  and  digest 

The  symbols  !  —  learn  —  and  shun  the  rest  ! 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  6. 


The  name  of  Busby  '.—not  the  musical 
d  octor,but  a  late  magisterial  doctor  of  West- 
minster school— celebrated  for  severe  dis- 
cipline, is  a  "word  of  fear"  to  all  living 
who  know  his  fame  !  It  is  perpetuated 
by  an  engraved  representation  of  his 


morning,  fell  asleep  in  his  memento  ;  and 
when  he  awoke,  added,  with  aloud  voice, 
The  king  drinketh."  This  mal-apropos 
exclamation  must  have  proceeded  from  a 
foreign  ecclesiastic  :  we  have  no  account 
of  the  ceremony  to  which  it  refers  having 

chairTsaYd^oTaVbeen  designed  by  sir    prevailed  in  merry  England. 

Peter  Lily,  and  presented  by    that  artist 

to  king  Charles  II.     The  arms,  and  each 

arm,  are  appalling  ;  and  the  import  of  the 

otherdevices  are,  or  ought  to  be,  known  by 

every  tyro.     Every  prudent  person  lays 

in  stores  before  they  are  wanted,  and  Dr. 

Busby's  chair  may   as  well  be   "  in  the 

house"  on  Twelfth-day  as  on  any  other ; 

not  as  a  mirth-spoiler,  but  as  a   subject 

which  we  know  to-day  that  we  have  "  by 

us,"  whereon  to  inquire  and  discuss  at  ~ 


An  excellent  pen-and-ink  picture  of 
"Merry  England"*  represents  honest 
old  Froissart,  the  French  chronicler,  as 
saying  of  some  English  in  his  time,  that 
"  they  amused  themselves  sadly  after  the 
the  fashion  of  their  country ;"  ™Hprpnn  tho 


more  convenient  season.  Dr.  Busby  was 
a  severe,  but  not  an  ill-natured  man.  It 
is  related  of  him  and  one  of  his  scholars, 
that  during  the  doctor's  absence  from  his 
study,  the  boy  found  some  plums  ^  in  it, 


whereon   the 

portrayer  of  Merry  England  observes, 
"  They  have  indeed  a  way  of  their  own. 
Their  mirth  is  a  relaxation  from  gravity, 
a  challenge  to  '  Dull  Care'  to  '  be  gone ;' 
and  one  is  not  always  clear  at  first,  whe- 
ther the  appeal  is  successful.  The  cloud 
may  still  hang  on  the  brow  ;  the  ice  may 
not  thaw  at  once.  To  help  them  out  in 
their  new  character  is  an  act  of  charity. 


and  being  moved  by  lickerishness,  began  Any  thing  short  of  hanging  or  drowning 
to  eat  some  ;  first,  however,  he  waggishly  ig  sometning  to  begin  with.  They  do  not 
cried  out,  •«  I  publish  the  banns  of  matn-  enter  into  their  amusements  the  less 
mony  between  my  mouth  and  these  Doggedly  because  they  may  plague  others, 
plums;  if  any  here  present  know  just  They  like  a  thing  the  better  for  hitting 
cause  or  impediment  why  they  should  not  them  ft  Qn  the  knuckies,  for  making  their 
be  united,  you  are  to  declare  it,  or  here- 
after hold  your  peace  ;"  and  then  he  ate. 
But  the  doctor  had  overheard  the  procla- 
mation, and  said  nothing  till  the  next 
morning,  when  causing  the  boy  to  be 
"  brought  up,"  and  disposed  for  punish- 


blood  tingle.  They  do  not  dance  or 
sing,  but  they  make  good  cheer — '  eat, 
drink,  and  are  merry.7  No  people  are 
fonder  of  field-sports,  Christmas  gambols, 
1  or  practical  jests.  Blindman's  -  buff, 
hunt-the-slipper,  hot-cockles,  and  snap- 


ment, he  grasped  the  well-known  instru- 
ment, and  said,  "  I  publish  the  banns  of 
matrimony  between  this  rod  and  this  boy: 
if  any  of  you  know  just  cause  or  impedi-     .........  ____________ 

ment  why  they  should  not  be  united,  you     piura-pU{J(iing,  the  spiced  ale  and  roasted 
"  - 


dragon,  are  all  approved  English  games, 

publish  the  banns  ot  ^^  Qf  iaughable  surprises  and  '  hair- 
breadth 'scapes/  and  serve  to  amuse  the 
winter  fireside  after  the  roast  beef  and 


are  to  declare  it."  —  The  boy  himself  call-  cra^  thrown  (hissing-hot)  into  the  foam- 

ed out,   "I   forbid    the  banns!"     "For  ing  tankard.     Punch  (not  the  liquor,  but 

what  cause  ?"  inquired  the  doctor.  "  Be-  tne  puppet)  is  not,  I  fear,  of  English  ori- 

cause,"  said  the  boy,  ««  the  parties  are  not  gin  .  but  there  js  no  piace,  I  take  it,  where 

agreed  !"     The  doctor  enjoyed  the  vali-  he  finds  himself  more  at  home  or  meets  a 

dity  of  the  objection  urged  by   the  boy  s  more  ;oyous  welcome,  where  he  collects 
wit,  and  the  ceremony  was  not  performed. 
This  is  an  instance  of  Dr.  Busby's  admi- 


ration of  talent :  and  let  us  hope,  in  be- 
half of  its  seasonableness  here,  that  it  was 
at  Christmas  time. 

The  King  drinks. 

We  recur  once  more  to  this  subject,  for 
the  sake  of  remarking  that  there  is  an  ac- 
count of  a  certain  curate,  ''  who  having 
taken  his  preparations  over  evening,  when 
all  men  cry  (as  the  manner  is)  The  king 
Jrinketh,  chanting  his  masse  the  next 


greater  crowds  at  the  corners  of  streets, 
where  he  opens  the  eyes  or  distends  the 
cheeks  wider,  or  where  the  bangs  and 


blows,  the  uncouth  gestures,  ridiculous 
anger  and  screaming  voice  of  the  chief 
performer  excite  more  boundless  merri- 
ment or  louder  bursts  of  laughter  among 
all  ranks  and  sorts  of  people.  An  Eng- 
lish theatre  is  the  very  throne  of  panto- 
mime ;  nor  do  I  believe  that  the  gallery 
and  boxes  of  Drury-lane  or  Covent-gar 


*  Tr,  the  New  Monthly  Magazine,  Dec.  1825 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  6. 


38 


den  filled  on  the  proper  occasions  with 
holiday  folks  (big  or  little)  yield  the  palm 
for  undisguised,  tumultuous,  inextinguish- 
able laughter  to  any  spot  in  Europe.  I 
do  not  speak  of  the  refinement  of  the 
mirth  (this  is  no  fastidious  speculation) 
but  of  its  cordiality,  on  the  return  of  these 
long-looked-for  and  licensed  periods ;  and 
I  may  add  here,  by  way  of  illustration, 
that  the  English  common  people  are  a 
sort  of  grown  children,  spoiled  and  sulky, 
perhaps,  but  full  of  glee  and  merriment, 
when  their  attention  is  drawn  off  by  some 
sudden  and  striking  object. 

"  The  comfort,  on  which  the  English  lay 
so  much  stress,  arises  from  the  same 
source  as  their  mirth.  Both  exist  by  con- 
trast and  a  sort  of  contradiction.  The 
English  are  certainly  the  most  uncomfort- 
able of  all  people  in  themselves,  and 
therefore  it  is  that  they  stand  in  need  of 
every  kind  of  comfort  and  accommoda- 
tion. The  least  thing  puts  them  out  of 
their  w<ty,  and  therefore  every  thing  must 
be  in  its  place.  They  are  mightily  of- 
fended at  disagreeable  tastes  and  smells, 
and  therefore  they  exact  the  utmost  neat- 
ness and  nicety.  They  are  sensible  of 
heat  and  cold,  and  therefore  they  cannot 
exist,  unless  every  thing  is  snug  and 
warm,  or  else  open  and  airy,  where  they 
are.  They  must  have  «  all  appliances 
and  means  to  boot.'  They  are  afraid  of 
interruption  and  intrusion,  and  therefore 
they  shut  themselves  up  in  m-door  enjoy- 
ments and  by  their  own  firesides.  It  is 
not  that  they  require  luxuries  (for  that 
implies  a  high  degree  of  epicurean  indulg- 
ence and  gratification,)  but  they  cannot 
do  without  their  comforts  ;  that  is,  what- 
ever tends  to  supply  their  physical  wants, 
and  ward  oif  physical  pain  and  annoy- 
ance. As  they  have  not  a  fund  of  ani- 
mal spirits  and  enjoyments  in  themselves, 
they  cling  to  external  objects  for  support, 
and  derive  solid  satisfaction  from  the  ideas 
of  order,  cleanliness,  plenty,  property, 
and  domestic  quiet,  as  they  seek  for  di- 
version from  odd  accidents  and  grotesque 
surprises,  and  have  the  highest  possible 
relish  not  of  voluptuous  softness,  but  of 
hard  knocks  and  dry  blows,  as  one  means 
of  ascertaining  their  personal  identity." 

Twelfth-day,  in  the  times  of  chivalry, 
was  observed  at  the  court  of  England  by 
grand  entertainments  and  tournaments. 
The  justings  were  continued  till  a  period 
little  favourable  to  such  sports. 

In  the  reign  of  James  I.,  when  his  son 


prince  Henry  was  in  the  16th  year  of  his 
age,  and  therefore  arrived  to  the  period 
for  claiming  the  principality  of  Wales  and 
the  duchy  of  Cornwall,  it  was  granted  to 
him  by  the  king  and  the  high  court  of 
parliament,  and  the  4th  of  June  following- 
appointed  for  his  investiture  :  "the  Christ- 
mas before  which,"  sir  Charles  Cornwallis 
says,  "  his  highnesse,  not  onely  for  his 
owne  recreation,  but  also  that  the  world 
might  know  what  a  brave  prince  they 
were  likely  to  enjoy,  under  the  name  of 
Meliades,  lord  of  the  isles,  (an  ancient 
title  due  to  the  first-borne  of  Scotland,) 
did,  in  his  name,  by  some  appointed  for 
the  same  purpose,  strangely  attired,  ac- 
companied with  drummes  and  trumpets, 
in  the  presence,  before  the  king  and 
queene,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
court,  deliver  a  challenge  to  all  knights  of 
Great  Britaine."  The  challenge  was  to 
this  effect,  "  That  Meliades,  their  noble 
master,  burning  with  an  earnest  desire  to 
trie  the  valour  of  his  young  yeares  in 
foraigne  countryes,  and  to  know  where 
vertue  triumphed  most,  had  sent  them 
abroad  to  espy  the  same,  who,  after  their 
long  travailes  in  all  countreyes,  and  re- 
turne,"  had  nowhere  discovered  it,  "  save 
in  the  fortunate  isle  of  Great  Britaine  : 
which  ministrincr  matter  of  exceeding  joy 
to  their  young  Meliades,  who  'as  they 
said)  could  lineally  derive  his  pedegre'e 
from  the  famous  knights  of  this  isle,  was 
the  cause  that  he  had  now  sent  to  present 
the  first  frurts  of  his  chivalrie  at  his  ma- 
jesties' feete ;  then  after  returning  with  a 
short  speech  to  her  majestic,  next  to  the 
earles,  lords,  and  knights,  excusing  their 
lord  in  this  their  so  sudden  and  shoi> 
warning,  and  lastly,  to  the  ladies ;  they, 
after  humble  delivery  of  their  chartle  con- 
cerning time,  place,  conditions,  number 
of  weapons  and  assailants,  tooke  their 
leave,  departing  solemnly  as  they  entered." 
Then  preparations  brgan  to  be  made 
for  this  great  fight,  and  each,  was  happy 
who  found  himself  admitted  for  a  defend- 
ant, much  more  an  assailant.  "  At  last 
to  encounter  his  highness,  six  assailants, 
and  fifty-eight  defendants,  consisting  of 
earles,  barons,  knights,  and  esquires,  were 
appointed  and  chosen ;  eight  defendants 
to  one  assailant,  every  assailant  being  to 
fight  by  turnes  eight  severall  times  fight- 
ing, two  every  time  with  push  and  pike 
of  sword,  twelve  strokes  at  a  time  ;  after 
which,  the  barre  for  separation  was  to  be 
let  downe  until  a  fresh  onset."  The  sum- 
mons ran  in  these  words  : 


39 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  6. 


40 


"  To  our  verie   loving   good  ffreind   sir 

Gilbert  Houghton,  knight,  gea^e  theis 

with  speed  : 

"  After  our  hartie  commendacions  unto 
you.  The  prince,  his  highnes,  hath 
comanded  us  tosignifie  to  you  that  whereas 
he  doth  intend  to  make  a  challenge  in  his 
owne  person  at  the  Barriers,  with  sixe 
other  assistants,  to  bee  performed  some 
tyme  this  Christmas;  and  that  he  hath 
made  choice  of  you  for  one  of  the  defend- 
ants (whereof  wee  have  comandement  to 
give  you  knowledge),  that  theruppon  you 
may  so  repaire  hither  to  prepare  yourselfe, 
as  you  may  bee  fitt  to  attend  him.  Here- 
unto expecting  your  speedie  answer  wee 
rest,  from  Whitehall  this  25th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1609.  Your  very  loving  freindes, 
Notingham.  |  T.Suffolke.  '|  E.Worcester." 

On  New-year's  Day,  1610,  or  the  day 
after,  the  prince's  challenge  was  pro- 
claimed at  court,  and  "  his  highnesse,  in 
his  own  lodging,  in  the  Christmas,  did 
feast  the  carles,  barons,  and  knights,  as- 
sailants and  defendants,  untill  the  great 
Twelfth  appointed  night,  on  which  this 
great  fight  was  to  be  performed." 

On  the  6th  of  January,  in  the  evening, 
"  the  barriers"  were  held  at  the  palace  of 
Whitehall,  in  the  presence  of  the  king  and 
queen,  the  ambassadors  of  Spain  and 
Venice,  and  the  peers  and  ladies  of  the 
land,  with  a  multitude  of  others  assembled 
in  the  "banqueting-house :  at  the  upper 
end  whereof  was  the  king's  chair  of  state, 
and  on  the  right  hand  a  sumptuous  pa- 
vilion for  the  prince  and  his  associates, 
from  whence,  "  with  great  bravery  and 
ingenious  devices,  they  descended  into 
the  middell  of  the  roome,  and  there  the 
prince  performed  his  first  feats  of  armes, 
that  is  to  say,  at  Barriers,  against  all 
conimers,  being  assisted  onlie  with  six 
others,  viz.  the  duke  of  Lenox,  the  earle 
of  Arundell,  the  earle  of  Southampton, 
the  lord  Hay,  sir  Thomas  Somerset,  and 
sir  Richard  Preston,  who  was  shortly  after 
created  lord  Ding  well." 

To  answer  these  challengers  came  fifty- 
six  earles,  barons,  knights,  and  esquiers. 
They  were  at  the  lower  end  of  the  roome, 
where  was  erected  "  a  very  delicat  and 
pleasant  place,  where  in  privat  manner 
they  and  their  traine  remained,  which 
was  so  very  great  that  no  man  imagined 
that  the  place  could  have  concealed  halfe 
so  many.  From  thence  they  issued,  in 
comely  order,  to  the  middell  of  the  roome, 
where  sate  the  king  and  the  queene,  and 
the  court,  "  to  behold  the  barriers,  with 


the  several  showes  and  devices  of  each 
combatant."  Every  challenger  fought 
with  eight  several  defendants  two  several 
combats  at  two  several  weapons,  viz.  at 
push  of  pike,  and  with  single  sword, 
"  The  prince  performed  this  challenge  with 
wonderous  skill  and  courage,  to  the  great 
joy  and  admiration  of  the  beholders,"  he 
"  not  being  full  sixteene  yeeres  of  age 
untill  the  19th  of  February."  These  feats, 
and  other  "  triumphant  shewes,"  began 
before  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  continued 
until  three  o'clock  the  next  morning, 
"  being  Sonday."  The  speeches  at  "  the 
barriers"  were  written  by  Ben  Jonson. 
The  next  day  (Sunday)  the  prince  rode  in 
great  pomp  to  convoy  the  king  to  St  James*, 
whither  he  had  invited  him  and  all  the 
court  to  supper,  whereof  the  queen  alone 
was  absent ;  and  then  the  prince  bestowed 
prizes  to  the  three  combatants  best  de- 
serving ;  namely,  the  earl  of  Montgomery, 
sir  Thomas  Darey  (son  to  lord  Darey), 
and  sir  Robert  Gourdon.*  In  this  way 
the  court  spent  Twelfth-night  in  1610. 

On  Twelfth-night,  1753,  George  II. 
played  at  hazard  for  the  benefit  of  the 
groom  porter.  All  the  royal  family  who 
played  were  winners,  particularly  the 
duke  of  York,  who  won  3000/.  The 
most  considerable  losers  were  the  duke 
of  Grafton,  the  marquis  of  Hartington, 
the  earl  of  Holderness,  earl  of  Ashburn- 
ham,  and  the  earl  of  Hertford.  The  prince 
of  Wales  (father  of  George  III.)  with 
prince  Edward  and  a  select  company, 
danced  in  the  little  drawing  room  till 
eleven  o'clock,  and  then  withdrew.-)- 

Old  Christmas-day. 

According  to  the  alteration  of  the 
style,  OLD  Christmas-day  falls  on 
Twelfth-day,  and  in  distant  parts  is  even 
kept  in  our  time  as  the  festival  of  the  na- 
tivity. In  1753,  Old  Christmas-day  was 
observed  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Wor- 
cester by  the  Anti-Gregorians,  full  as 
sociably,  if  not  so  religiously,  as  formerly 
In  several  villages,  the  parishioners  so 
strongly  insisted  upon  having  an  Old- 
style  nativity  sermon,  as  they  term  it, 
that  their  ministers  could  not  well  avoid 
preaching  to  them  :  and,  at  some  towns, 
where  the  markets  are  held  on  Friday, 
not  a  butter  basket,  nor  even  a  Goose, 
was  to  be  seen  in  the  market-place  the 
whole  day.| 

*  Mr.  Nichols's  Progresses  of  James  I. 

t-  Gentleman'*  Magazine.  t  Ibid. 


41 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  7. 


To  heighten  the  festivities  of  Christmas, 
1825.  the  good  folks  of"  London  and  its 
environs"  were  invited  to  Sadler's  Wells, 
by  the  following  whimsical  notice,  printed 
and  distributed  as  a  handbill 

•<  SOVEREIGNS  WILL  BETAKEN, 

during  the  Christmas  holidays,  and  as  long 
as  any  body  will  bring  them  to  SADLER'S 
WELLS  ;  nay  so  little  fastidious  are  the 
Proprietors  of  that  delectable  fascinating 
snuggery,  that,  however  incredible  it  may 
appear,  they,  in  some  cases,  have  actually 
had  the  liberality  to  prefer  Gold  to  Paper. 
Without  attempting  to  investigate  their 
motives  for  such  extraordinary  conduct, 
we  shall  do  them  the  justice  to  say,  they 
certainly  give  an  amazing  quantum  o 
amusement,  All  in  One  Night,  at  the 
HOUSE  ON  THE  HEATH,  where,  be- 
sides the  THREE  CRUMPIES,  AND 
THE  BARON  AND  HIS  BROTHERS, 
an  immense  number  of  fashionables  are 
expected  on  MERLIN'S  MOUNT,  and 
some  of  the  first  Cambrian  families  will 
countenanceHARLEQUIN  CYMRAEG, 
in  hopes  to  partake  of  the  Living  Leek, 
which  being  served  up  the  last  thing  be- 
fore supper,  will  constitute  a  most  excel- 
lent Christmas  carminative,  preventing 
the  effects  of  night  air  on  the  crowds  who 
will  adorn  this  darling  little  edifice.  In 
addition  to  a  most  effective  LIGHT  COM- 
PANY engaged  here,  a  very  respectably 
sized  Moon  will  be  in  attendance  to  light 
home  a  greater  number  of  Patrons  than 
ever  this  popular  petted  Palace  of  Panto- 
mime is  likely  to  produce.  We  say  no- 
thing of  warmth  and  comfort,  acquired  by 
recent  improvements,  because  these  mat- 
ters will  soon  be  subjects  of  common  con- 
versation, and  omit  noticing  the  happi- 
ness of  Half-price,  and  the  cheering  qua- 
lities of  the  Wine-room,  fearful  of  wound- 
ing in  the  bosom  of  the  Manager  that 
innate  modesty  which  is  ever  the  conco- 
mitant of  merit ;  we  shall  therefore  con- 
clude, by  way  of  invitation  to  the  dubi- 
ous, in  the  language  of  an  elegant  writer, 
by  asserting  that  the  Proof  of  the  Pud- 
ding it  in— VERBUM  SAT." 


NATURALISTS'   CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature-  -  -  37  •  12. 


Sanuarg  7. 

1826.     Distaff's  Day* 

STANZAS   ON  THE   NEW   YEAR. 

I  stood  between  the  meeting  years, 

The  coming  and  the  past, 
And  I  ask'd  of  the  future  one, 

Wilt  thou  be  like  the  last  ? 

The  same  in  many  a  sleepless  night. 

In  many  an  anxious  day  ? 
Thank  Heaven  !   I  have  no  prophet's  eye 

To  look  upon  thy  way  ! 

For  Sorrow  like  a  phantom  sits 

Upon  the  last  Year's  close. 
How  much  of  grief,  how  much  of  ill, 

In  its  dark  breast  repose  I 

Shadows  of  faded  Hopes  flit  by, 

And  ghosts  of  Pleasures  fled  : 
How  have   they  chang'd   from  what  they 
were  ! 

Cold,  colourless,  and  dead. 

I  think  on  many  a  wasted  hour, 

And  sicken  o'er  the  void  ; 
And  many  darker  are  behind, 

On  worse  than  nought  employ'd. 

Oh  Vanity  !  alas,  my  heart ! 

How  widely  hast  thou  stray  d 
And  misused  every  golden  gift 

For  better  purpose  made  ' 

I  think  on  many  a  once-loved  friend 

As  nothing  to  me  now  ; 
And  what  can  mark  the  lapse  of  time 

As  does  an  alter'd  brow  ? 

Perhaps  'twas  but  a  careless  word 
That  sever'd  Friendship's  chain  ; 

And  angry  Pride  stands  by  each  gap, 
Lest  they  unite  again. 

Less  sad,  albeit  more  terrible, 

To  think  upon  the  dead, 
Who  quiet  in  the  lonely  grave 

Lay  down  their  weary  head. 

For  faith  and  hope,  and  peace,  and  trust, 

Are  with  their  happier  lot : 
Though  broken  is  their  bond  of  love, 

At  least  we  broke  it  not.— 

Thus  thinking  of  the  meeting  years, 

The  coming  and  the  past, 
I  needs  must  ask  the  future  one, 

Wilt  thou  be  like  the  last  ? 

*  See  vol.  i.  p.  €1 


43 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  8. 


44 


There  came  a  sound,  but  not  of  speech, 

That  to  my  thought  replied, 
"  Misery  is  the  marriage-gift 

That  waits  a  mortal  bride  : 

•'  But  lift  thine  hopes  from  this  base  earth, 

This  waste  of  worldly  care, 
And  wed  thy  faith  to  yon  bright  sky, 

For  Happiness  dwells  there  !" 

L.  E.  L  * 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  35  •  85. 

Sanuarp  8, 

1826.     First  Sunday  after  Epiphany. 
CHRONOLOGY. 

Ou  the  8th  of  January,  1753,  died  sir 
Thomas  Burnet,  one  of  the  judges  of  the 
court  of  Common  Pleas,  of  the  gout  in 
his  stomach,  at  his  house  in  Lincoln's-inn 
fields.  He  was  the  eldest  son  of  the  cele- 
brated Dr,  Gilbert  Burnet,  bishop  of 
Salisbury ;  was  several  years  consul  at 
Lisbon;  and  in  November,  1741,  made 
one  of  the  judges  of  the  Common  Pleas, 
in  room  of  judge  Fortescue,  who  was  ap- 
pointed master  of  the  rolls.  On  No- 
vember 23, 1745,  when  the  lord  chancellor, 
judges,  and  association  of  the  gentlemen 
of  the  law,  waited  on  his  majesty  with 
their  address,  on  occasion  of  the  rebellion, 
he  was  knighted.  He  was  an  able  and  up- 
right judge,  and  a  great  benefactor  to  the 
poor.f 

THE  NEW  YEAR  NEW  MOON 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, 

Encouraged  by  your  various  expres- 
sions of  willingness  to  receive  notices  of 
customs  not  already  "  imprinted"  in  your 
first  volume,  I  take  the  liberty  of  pre- 
senting the  first  of  several  which  I  have 
not  yet  seen  in  print. 

I  am,  sir, 

Your  constant  reader, 
Chelsea.  J.  Q.  W. 


*  New  Monthly  Magazine,  January,  1826. 
t  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


MONEY  AND  THE  MOON. 

Gentle  reader, 

If  thou  art  not  over-much  prejudiced 
by  the  advances  of  modernization,  (I  like 
a  long  new-coined  word,)  so  that,  even  in 
these  "  latter  days,"  thou  dost  not  hesi- 
tate to  place  explicit  reliance  on  ancient, 
yet  infallible  "  sayings  and  doings/'  (an- 
cient enough,  since  they  have  been  handed 
down  to  us  by  our  grandmothers — and  who 
would  doubt  the  weight  and  authority  of 
so  many  years  ? — and  infallible  enough, 
since  they  themselves  absolutely  believed 
in  their  "  quite-correctness,")  I  will  tell  thee 
a  secret  well  worth  knowing,  if  that  can 
be  called  a  secret  which  arises  out  of  a 
well-known  and  almost  universal  custom, 
at  least,  in  "  days  of  yore."  It  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  the  possession  through- 
out "  the  rolling  year"  of  a  pocket  never 
without  money.  Is  not  this  indeed  a 
secret  well  worth  knowing  ?  Yet  the 
means  of  its  accomplishment  are  exceed- 
ingly simple  (as  all  difficult  things  are 
when  once  known.)  On  the  first  day  of 
the  first  new  moon  of  the  new  year,  or  so 
soon  afterwards  as  you  observe  it,  all  that 
you  have  to  do  is  this : — on  the  first 
glance  you  take  at  "  pale  Luna's  silvery 
crest"  in  the  western  sky,  put  your  hand 
in  your  pocket,  shut  your  eyes,  and  turn 
the  smallest  piece  of  silver  coin  you  pos- 
sess upside  down  in  your  said  pocket. 
This  will  ensure  you  (if  you  will  but  trust 
its  infallibility!)  throughout  the  whole 
year  that  "  summum  bonum  "  of  earthly 
wishes,  a  pocket  never  empty.  If,  how- 
ever, you  neglect,  on  the  first  appearance 
of  the  moon,  your  case  is  hopeless ;  never- 
theless and  notwithstanding,  at  a  future 
new  moon  you  may  pursue  the  same 
course,  and  it  will  be  sure  to  hold  good 
during  the  then  current  month,  but  not  a 
"  whit"  longer. 

This  mention  of  the  new  moon  and  its 
crest  brings  to  mind  a  few  verses  I  wrote 
some  time  ago,  and  having  searched  my 
scrap-book,  (undoubtedly  not  such  a  one 
as  Geoffery  Crayon's,}  I  copied  them  from 
thence,  and  they  are  heie  under.  Although 
written  in  the  "  merry  merry  month 
of  May,"  they  may  be  read  in  the  "  dreary 
dark  December,"  for  every  new  moon 
presents  the  same  beautiful  phenomenon. 


A  Simile. 

Hast  thou  ne'er  marked,  when  first  the  crescent  moon 

Shines  faintly  in  the  western  horizon, 

O'er  her  whole  orb  a  slight  soft  blush  o'erspread, 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  9. 


As  though  she  were  abashed  to  be  thus  seen 

From  the  sun's  couch  with  silver  steps  retreating  ? 

Hast  thou  ne'er  marked,  that  when  by  slow  degrees, 

Night  after  night,  her  crescent  shape  is  lost, 

And  steadily  she  gains  her  stores  of  light, 

Till  half  her  form  resplendently  proclaims 

An  envious  rival  to  the  stars  around — 

Then  mark'st  thou  not,  that  nought  of  her  sweet  blush 

Remains  to  please  the  gazer's  wistful  sight, 

And  that  she  shines  increasingly  in  strength, 

Till  she  is  fulLorb'd,  mistress  of  the  sky?— 

So  is  it  with  the  mind,  when  silently 

Into  the  young  heart's  void  steals  timorous  love. 

Then  enter  with  it  fancy's  fairy  dreams, 

Visions  of  glory,  reveries  of  bliss  ; 

And  then  they  come  and  go,  till  comes,  alas ! 

Knowledge,  forced  on  us,  of  the  "  world  without !" 

How  soon  these  scenes  of  beauty  disappear ! 

How  soon  fond  thought  sinks  into  nothingness  ! 

How  soon  the  mind  discovers  that  true  bliss 

Reposes  not  on  sublunary  things, 

But  is  alone  when  passion's  blaze  is  o'er 

In  that  high  happy  sphere,  where  love's  supreme. 


Here  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  en- 
deavour to  describe,  as  familiarly  as  pos- 
sible, the  cause  of  the  lunar  appearance. 


justices  at  Westminster-hall,  for  personat- 
ing various  characters  and  names,  and 
defrauding  numbers  of  people,  in  order  to 


Hold  a  piece  of  looking-glass  in  a  ray  of    support   his  extravagance.     It  appeared 


sunshine,  and  then  move  a  small  ball 
through  the  reflected  ray :  it  is  easy  to 
conceive  that  both  sides  will  be  illumined ; 
that  side  towards  the  sun  by  the  direct 
sunbeam,  and  the  side  towards  the  mirror, 
though  less  powerfully,  by  the  reflected 
sunbeam.  In  a  somewhat  similar  manner, 
the  earth  supplies  the  place  of  the  mirror, 
and  as  at  every  new  moon,  and  for  several 
days  after  the  moon  is  in  that  part  of  her 
orbit  between  the  earth  and  the  sun,  the 
rays  of  the  sun  are  reflected  from  the 
earth  to  the  dark  side  of  the  moon,  and 
consequently  to  the  inhabitants  of  that 
part  of  the  moon,  (if  any  such  there  be, 
and  query  why  should  there  not  be  such  ?) 
the  earth  must  present  the  curious  appear- 
ance of  a  full  moon  of  many  times  the 
diameter  which  ours  presents. 

J.  O.  W. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  <.  36  •  05. 

Sanuarp  9. 

1826.     Plough  Monday. 
The  first  Monday  after  Twelfth  day.* 


by  the  evidence,  that  he  had  cheated  a 
tailor  of  a  suit  of  velvet  clothes,  trimmed 
with  gold;  a  jeweller  of  upwards  of  100/. 
in  rings  and  watches,  which  he  pawned  ; 
a  coachmaker  of  a  chaise ;  a  carver  and 
cabinet-maker  of  household  goods ;  a 
hosier,  hatter,  and  shoemaker,  and,  in 
short,  some  of  almost  every  other  business, 
to  the  amount  of  a  large  sum.  He  some- 
times appeared  like  a  gentleman  attended 
with  livery  servants  ;  sometimes  as  a  no- 
bleman's steward ;  and,  in  the  summer 
time,  he  travelled  the  west  of  England,  in 
the  character  of  Doctor  Rock ;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  wrote  to  London  for  goods,  in 
the  names  of  the  Rev.  Laroche,  and  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Strickland.  The  evidence 
was  full  against  him ;  notwithstanding 
which,  he  made  a  long  speech  in  his  own 
defence.  He  was  sentenced  to  six  months' 
hard  labour  in  Bridewell,  and,  within  that 
time,  to  be  six  times  publicly  whipped. 

Such  offences  are  familiar  to  tradesmen 
of  the  present  times,  through  many  perpe- 
trators of  the  like  stamp  ;  but  all  of  them 
are  not  of  the  same  audacity  as  Stroud, 
who,  in  the  month  following  his  convic- 
tion, wrote  and  published  his  life,  wherein 
he  gives  a  very  extraordinary  account  of 


CHRONOLOGY.  - . 

On  the  9th  of  January,  1752,  William  hls  adventures,  but  passes   slightly  over 

Stroud   was   tried   before   the    bench   o  or  palliates  his  blackest  crimes      "•  — 

—  _ bred  a  haberdasher  of  small 

*  See  vol.  i.  p.  7  .  Fleet- 


He  was 
wares  in 
feet,  married  his  mistress's  sister 


47 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  10. 


48 


before  his  apprenticeship  determined,  set 
up  in  the  Poultry,  became  a  bankrupt,  in 
three  months  got  his  certificate  signed, 
and  again  set  up  in  Holborn ,  where  he 
lived  but  a  little  while  before  he  was 
thrown  into  the  King's  Bench  for  debt, 
and  there  got  acquainted  with  one  Play- 
stowe,  who  gradually  led  him  into  scenes 
of  fraud,  which  he  afterwards  imitated. 
Playstowe  being  a  handsome  man,  usually 
passed  for  a  gentleman,  and  Stroud  for 
his  steward ;  at  last  the  former,  after  many 
adventures,  married  a  girl  with  4000/., 
flew  to  France,  and  left  Stroud  in  the 
lurch,  who  then  retired  to  Yorkshire,  and 
lived  some  time  with  his  aunt,  pretending 
his  wife  was  dead,  and  he  was  just  on  the 
brink  of  marrying  advantageously,  when 
his  real  character  was  traced.  He  then 
went  to  Ireland,  passed  for  a  man  of 
fashion,  hired  an  equipage,  made  the  most 
of  that  country,  and  escaped  to  London. 
His  next  grand  expedition  was  to  the 
west  of  England,  where  he  still  personated 
the  man  of  fortune,  got  acquainted  with  a 
young  lady,  and  pursued  her  to  London, 
where  justice  overtook  him  ;  and,  instead 
of  wedlock,  bound  him  in  the  fetters  of 
Bridewell. 

On  the  24th  of  June,  1752,  Stroud  re- 
ceived "  his  last  and  severest  whipping, 


from  the  White  Bear  to  St.  James's  church 
Piccadilly."* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  36-12. 

Sannarp  10. 

Winter  in  London. 

On  the  10th  of  January,  1812,  it  is 
observed,  that  London  was  this  day  in- 
volved, for  several  hours,  in  palpable 
darkness.  The  shops,  offices,  &c.,  were 
necessarily  lighted  up ;  but,  the  streets  not 
being  lighted  as  at  night,  it  required  nc 
small  care  in  the  passenger  to  find  his 
way,  and  avoid  accidents.  The  sky 
where  any  light  pervaded  it,  showed  the 
aspect  of  bronze.  Such  is,  occasionally, 
the  effect  of  the  accumulation  of  smoke 
between  two  opposite  gentle  currents,  or 
by  means  of  a  misty  calm.  The  fuliginous 
cloud  was  visible,  in  this  instance,  from  a 
distance  of  forty  miles.  Were  it  not  for 
the  extreme  mobility  of  our  atmosphere, 
this  volcano  of  a  hundred  thousand  mouths 
would,  in  winter,  be  scarcely  habitable  !f 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine, 
t  Howard  on  Climate, 


Winter  in  the  Country. 

All  out  door  work 

Now  stands ;  the  waggoner,  with  wisp-wound  feet, 
And  wheelspokes  almost  filled,  his  destined  stage 
Scarcely  can  gain.     O'er  hill,  and  vale,  and  wood, 
Sweeps  the  snow-pinioned  blast,  and  all  things  veils 
In  white  array,  disguising  to  the  view 
Objects  well  known,  now  faintly  recognised. 
One  colour  clothes  the  mountain  and  the  plain, 
Save  where  the  feathery  flakes  melt  as  they  fall 
Upon  the  deep  blue  stream,  or  scowling  lake, 
Or  where  some  beetling  rock  o'erjutting  hangs 
Above  the  vaulty  precipice's  cove. 
Formless,  the  pointed  cairn  now  scarce  o'ertops 
The  level  dreary  waste ;  and  coppice  woods, 
Diminished  of  their  height,  like  bushes  seem. 
With  stooping  heads,  turned  from  the  storm,  the  flocks 
Onward  still  urged  by  man  and  dog-,  escape 
The  smothering  drift ;  while,  skulking  at  a  side, 
Is  seen  the  fox,  with  close  downfolded  tail, 
Watching  his  time  to  seize  a  straggling  prey  j 
Or  from  some  lofty  crag  he  ominous  howls, 
And  makes  approaching  night  more  dismal  »aM. 


Grahamc. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK — JANUARY  10. 


50 


in  fyt  C&arartfr  of  JHr.  ifeton. 


"  Just  popp'd  in,  you  know  !" 


LETTER 

from 
PA  U  L    PRY. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, 

I  hope  I  don't  intrude  —  I  have 
called  at  Lud gate-hill  a  great  many 
times  to  see  you,  and  made  many  kind 
inquiries,  but  I  am  always  informed  you 
are  "  not  at  home ;"  and  what's  worse,  I 
never  can  learn  when  you'll  be  "  at  home ;" 
I'm  constantly  told,  "  it's  very  uncertain." 
This  looks  very  odd;  I  don't  think  it 
correct.  Then  again,  on  asking  your 
people  what  the  Every-Day  Book  is  all 
about  ?  they  say  it's  about  every  thing ; 
but  that  you  know  is  no  answer — is  it  ? 
I  want  something  more  than  that.  When 
I  tell  'em  so,  and  that  I'm  so  much  en- 
gaged I  haven't  time  to  read,  they  say  the 
book  is  as  useful  to  people  engaged  in 
business  as  to  people  out  of  business — as 


if  /  was  in  business  !  I  wish  to  acquaint 
every  body,  that  I  am  not  in  business,  and 
never  was  in  business,  though  I've  a  dea 
of  business  to  do;  but  then  it's  for  my 
own  amusement,  and  that's  nobody's 
business,  you  know — as  I  also  told  'em. 
They  say  it's  impossible  to  describe  the 
contents  of  the  book,  but  that  all  the  par- 
ticulars are  in  the  Index  ;  that's  just  what 
I  wanted ;  but  behold  !  it  is  "  not  out" — 
that  is,  it  is  not  in — I  mean  not  in  the 
book — you  take.  Excuse  my  humorsome- 
ness  :  I  only  wish  to  know  when  I  can 
get  it  ?  They  say  in  a  few  days,  but,  bless 
you,  I  don't  believe  'em  ;  for  though  I  let 
'em  know  I've  a  world  of  things  to  com- 
municate to  you,  when  you've  time  to  sec 
me,  and  let  me  ask  you  a  few  questions, 
they  won't  credit  me,  and  why  should  I 
credit  them — I  was  not  born  yesterday, 
I  assure  you.  I'm  of  a  very  ancient 
stock,  and  I've  some  notion  you  and  I 
are  kinsmen— don't  you  think  we  are  ? 
I  dare  say  there's  a  likeness,  for  I'm  sure 


51  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  10.          52 

we  are  of  the  same  disposition ;   if  you  again,  I'll  be — Liston  !    They  shall   be 

aren't,  how   can  you  find  out  so  much  matched,  however,  if  you'll  help  me.     I've 

"  about  every  thing."     If  I  can  make  out  copied  out  my  song,  and  if  you'll  print  it 

that  you  are  one  of  the  Pry  family,  it  will  in  the  Every-Day  Book,  it  will  drive  'em 

be  mutually  agreeable — won't  it  ?     How  mad.     I  wish,    of  all  things,   that  Mr. 

people  will  stare— won't  they?  Cruikshank  could  see  me  in  the  charactei 

I  suppose  you've  heard  how  I've  been  of  Liston — he  could  hit  me  I  know — don't 

used  by  Mr.  Lislon — my  private  charac-  you   think  he   could  ? — just   as   I   am — 

ter  exposed  on  the  public  stage,  and  the  "quite  correct" — like  he  did  "Guy  Faux" 

whole  town  roaring  at  the  whole  of  the  last  5th  of  November.     I  never  laughed 

Pry  family.     But  we  are  neither  to  be  so  much  in  all  my  life  as  when  I  saw  that. 

cried  down  nor  laughed  down,  and  so  I'd  Bless   you,    I  can   mimic   Liston   all  to 

have  let  the  play -goers  know,if  the  managers  nothing.     Do  get  your  friend  George  to 

had  allowed  me  to  sing  a  song  on  New-  your  house  some  day — any  day  he  likes — 

year's  night,  in  imitation  of  Mr.  Liston  it's  all  one  to  me,  for  I  call  every  day  ; 

when  he's  a  playing  me.     Will  you  be-  and  as    I'm  an  "  every-day"  man,    you 

lieve  it — they  burst  out  a  laughing,  and  know,  why  you  might  pop  me  at  the  head 

would  not  let  me  go  on  the  boards — they  of  the  song  in  your  Every-Day  Book — 

said  the  audience  would  suppose  me  to  be  that's  a  joke   you  know — I   can't   help 

the  actor  himself;  what  harm  would  that  laughing — so   droll !     I've    enclosed   the 

have  done  the  theatre?— can  you   tell?  song,  you  see. 
They   said,  it  would  hurt  Mr.  Liston's 

feelings — never  Considering   mv  feelings  !      [The  wish  of  this  correspondent  is  complied  with, 
It        °r  .       ,  ,,  .,f  .     .1     c  and  the  manner  wherein,  it  is  presumed,  he  would 

Jt  ever  1  try  to  Serve  them  Or  their  theatre         have  sung  the  song,  is  hinted  at  parenthetically.] 

MR.  PAUL  FRY'S  SONG, 

Intended  to  have  been  sung  by  him  at  the  Theatre, 
In  the  Character  of  MR.  LISTON, 

ON  NEW  YEAR'S  EVE. 

TUNE Mr.  Liston's. 

(Pryingly}     I  hope  I  don't  intrude  ! — 
{Fearfully.')     I  thought  I  heard  a  cough — 
(Apologetically.}     I  hope  I  am  not  rude — 
(  Confidentially.}    I  say — the  Year's  going  off ! 


(Inquisitively.}     Where  can  he  be  going  to  ? 
(Ruminatively}     It's  very  odd  ! — it's  serious  ! — 
(Self -satisf actively}     I'm  rather  knowing  too  !— 
(Insinuatively.}     But  isn't  it  mysterious  ? 

(Comfortably.}    JTwas  better  than  the  other — 
(Informingly.}     The  one  that  went  before  ;— 
(Consolingly.}     But  then  there'll  be  another— 
( Delightedly}    And  that's  one  comfort  more  ! 

(Alarmedly}     I'm  half  afraid  he's  gone  I 
(Kindlily.}     Must  part  with  the  old  fellow  ! 
(Hastily.}     Excuse  me— I  must  run— (Exit.} 
(Returns.}     Forgot  my  umbrella. 

(Determinedly}     I'll  watch  the  new  one  though, 
(Circumspectly.}     And  see  what  he'll  be  at— (Exit.} 
(Returns.}     Beg  pardon— didn't  bow— (Bows  and  exit,} 
'Returns.}    Bid  pardon — left  my  hat 


53 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  11. 

(Lingeringfy.)  It's  always  the  wish  of  Paul, 
(Seriously.)  To  be  quite  correct  and  right — 
(Respectfully.}  Ladies  and  gentlemen — all — 
(Retreatingly.)  I  wish  you  very  good  night ! 

(Recollectlvely.)    And — ladies  and  gentlemen — all  ! 
(Inter jectively.}     You  laugh  so  much,  I  declare — 
(Vexedly.}     I'm  not  Mr.  Listen  !— I'm  Paul /— 
(Lastly.)     I  wish  you  a  happy  New  Year  \—(Exit  finally  : 


If  you  print  this  in  the  Every-Day 
Book  it  will  send  Listen  into  fits — it  will 
kill  him — won't  it  ?  But  you  know  that's 
all  right — if  he  takes  me  off  I've  a  right 
to  take  him  off— haven't  I  ?  I  say,  that's 
another  joke — isn't  it?  Bless  you,  I 
co'd  do  as  good  as  that  for  ever.  But  I 
want  to  see  you,  and  ask  you  how  you  go 
on  ?  and  I've  lots  of  intelligence  for  you 
— such  things  as  never  were  known  in 
this  world — all  true,  and  on  the  very  best 
authority,  you  may  take  my  word  for  it. 
Several  of  my  relations  have  sent  you 
budgets.  Though  they  know  you  won't 
publish  their  names  unless  they  like  it, 
they  don't  choose  to  sign  'em  to 
their  letters  for  private  reasons,— why 
don't  you  print  'em  ?  They  cann't  give  up 
their  authors  you  know,  (that's  impossi- 
ble,) but  what  does  that  signify  ?  And 
then  you  give  'em  so  much  trouble  to  call 
and  make  inquiries — not  that  they  care 
about  that,  but  it  looks  so.  However,  I'm 
in  a  great  hurry  and  so  you'll  excuse  me. 
— Mind  though  I  shall  pop  in  every  day 
till  I  catch  you.  I  hope  you'll  print  the 
song — it's  all  my  own  writing,  it  will  do 
for  Listen,  depend  on  it.  What  a  joke — 
isn't  it  a  good  one  ? 

Pryory  Place,        Yours  eternally, 
January  6,  1826.  PAUL  PRY. 

P.  S.  Don't  forget  the  Index — I  want 
to  learn  all  the  particulars— multum  in 
parvo — all  quite  correct. 

P.  S.  I'm  told  you've  eleven  children — 
is  it  true  ?     What  day  shall  you  have  an- 
other ? 
would 
don't 
curious. 


t  true  :  w  nat  day  snail  you  nave  an- 
er  ?  _  to-day  ?  —  Twelfthrfay  1  that 
uld  be  zjoke — wouldn't  it?  I  hope  I 
i't  intrude.  I  don't  wish  to  seem 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  36  •  07. 

Sfanuarp  n. 

Feast  Week. 

This  is  a  term  in  many  parts  of  Eng- 
and  for  an  annual  festivity  celebrated  on 


the  occasion  described   in  the  subjoined 
communication. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

THE  FEAST  WEEK. 

This  festival,  so  called,  is  supposed  to 
be  nearly  coeval  with  the  establishment 
of  Christianity  in  this  island.  Every 
new  church  that  was  founded  was  dedi- 
cated to  some  peculiar  saint,  and  was 
naturally  followed  by  a  public  religious 
celebration,  generally  on  the  day  of  that 
saint,  or  on  the  Sunday  immediately  fol- 
lowing. Whatever  might  be  the  origin, 
the  festival  part  is  still  observed  in  most 
of  the  villages  of  several  of  the  midland 
and  other  counties.  It  is  a  season  much 
to  be  remembered,  and  is  anticipated 
with  no  little  pleasure  by  the  expecting 
villagers.  The  joyful  note  of  preparation 
is  given  during  the  preceding  week  ;  and 
the  clash,  and  splash,  and  bustle  of 
cleansing,  and  whitewashing,  and  dust- 
ing, is  to  be  seen  and  heard  in  almost 
every  cottage.  Nor  is  the  still  more  im- 
portant object  of  laying  in  a  good  solid 
supply  for  a  hungry  host  of  visitors  for- 
gotten. Happy  those  who  can  command 
a  ham  for  the  occasion.  This  is  a  great 
favourite,  as  it  is  a  cut-and-come-again 
dish,  ready  at  hand  at  all  times.  But  this 
is  mostly  with  the  tip-topping  part.  Few 
but  can  boast  of  a  substantial  plum- 
pudding  ! — And  now  the  important  day 
is  arrived.  The  merry  bells  from  the 
steeple  announce  the  event ;  and  groups 
of  friends  and  relations,  not  forgetting 
distant  cousins  and  children,  are  seen 
making  their  way,  long  before  the  hour 
of  dinner,  to  the  appointed  spot.  This  is 
Sunday ;  and  in  the  afternoon  a  portion 
of  these  strangers,  clean  and  neatly 
dressed,  are  seen  flocking  to  the  village 
church,  where  the  elevated  band  in  the 
gallery,  in  great  force  both  in  noise  and 
number,  contribute  lustily  to  their  edifi- 
cation, and  the  clergyman  endeavours  to 
improve  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion  by 
an  appropriate  address.  During  the 
early  part  of  the  ensuing  week,  the  feast 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  12. 


is  kept  up  with  much  spirit  :  the  village 
presents  a  holiday  appearance,  and  open- 
housekeeping,  as  far  as  may  be,  is  the 
order  of  the  day  ;  the  bells  at  intervals 
send  forth  an  enlivening  peal  ;  all  work 
is  nearly  suspended  ;  gay  stalls  of  ginger- 
bread and  fruit,  according  to  the  season 
of  the  year,  together  with  swings  and 
roundabouts,  spread  out  their  allurements 
to  the  children  ;  bowls,  quoits,  and  nine- 
pins, for  the  men  ;  and  the  merry  dance  in 
the  evening,  for  the  lasses.  Fresh  visitors 
keep  dropping  in  ;  and  almost  all  who 
can  make  any  excuse  of  acquaintance  are 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  35-62. 

Sfanuarp  12. 

Leeches  unhurt  by  Frost. 
Among  the  cold-blooded  animals  whicl 
resist  the  effects  of  a  low  temperature, 
we  may  reckon  the  common  leech,  which 
is  otherwise  interesting  to  the  meteorolo- 
gist, on  account  of  its  peculiar  habits  and 
movements  under  different  states  of  the 
atmosphere.  A  group  of  these  animals 
left  accidentally  in  a  closet  without  a  fire, 


acknowledged,  and  are  hospitably  enter-  du"ng  the  frost  of  1816,  not  only  sur- 
vived, but  appeared  to  suffer  no  iniury 
from  being  locked  up  in  a  mass  of  ice  for 
many  days.* 


tained,  according  to  the  means  of  their 
village  friends.  As  the  week  advances, 
these  means  gradually  diminish  ;  and  as 
an  empty  house  has  few  attractions,  by 
the  end  of  the  week  the  bustle  ceases, 
and  all  is  still  and  silent,  as  if  it  had 
never  been. 


SWEEPING    RHETORIC. 

Certain    rewards   allowed    by   act   of 
parliament  to   firemen,    turncocks,    and 


Man  naturally  requires  excitement  and  otl\ei;s.'  wn°  first  appear  with  their  engines 

relaxation  ;  but  "it  is  essentially  necessary  and  implements  at  premises  sworn  to  be 

that  they  should  be  adapted  to  his  situa-  °n  °**  were  claimed  at  the  public  office, 

tion  and  circumstances.  The  feast  week,  Marlboroiigh-street,  in  this  month,  1826, 

however  alluring  it  may  appear  in  descrip-  and  resisted  on  the  ground  that  the 

tion,  is  in  reality  productive  of  greater  chimney,  which  belonged  to  a  brewery, 

evil  than  good.  The  excitement  lasts  too  and  was  more  than  eignty  feet  high,  was 

long,  and  the  enjoyment,  whatever  it  not>  and  COVL\d  not  be  on  fire.  A  witness 

may  be,  is  purchased  at  the  sacrifice  of  to  ****  end>  8ave  a  lively  specimen  of 

too  great  expense.  It  is  a  well-known  familiar  statement  and  illustration.  He 

fact,  that  many  of  the  poor  who  have  ^egan  by  telling  the  magistrate,  that  he 

exerted  every  effort  to  make  this  profuse,  w.as  a  sweep-chimney  by  profession— a 

but  short-lived  display,  have  scarcely  Piece  °f  information  very  unnecessary,  for 
bread  to  eat  for  weeks  after.  But  there  was  as  black  and  sooty  a  sweep  as  ever 

no  alternative,   if  they  expect  to  be  mounted  a  chimney-top,— and  then  went 


received  with  the  same  spirit  of  hospitality 
by  their  friends.  The  alehouses,  in  the 
interim,  are  too  often  scenes  of  drunken- 
ness and  disorder;  and  the  labouring  man 
who  has  been  idle  and  dissipated  for  a 
week,  is  little  disposed  for  toil  and  tem- 
perance the  next.  Here,  then,  the  illu- 
sion of  rural  simplicity  ends  !  These 
things  are  managed  much  better  where 
one  fair  day,  as  it  is  called,  is  set  apart 
in  each  year,  as  is  the  case  in  many  coun- 
ties ;  the  excitement,  which  is  intense  for 
ten  or  twelve  hours,  is  fully  sufficient  for 
the  purpose  ;  all  is  noise  and  merriment, 
and  one  general  and  -simultaneous  burst 
and  explosion,  if  it  may  be  so  expressed, 
takes  place.  You  see  groups  of  happy 
faces.  Every  one  is  willing  "  to  laugh 
he  knows  not  why,  and  cares  not  where- 
fore ;"  and  one  day's  gratification  serves 
him  for  every  days  pleasing  topic  of  re- 
ference for  weeks  to  come. 

S.  P. 


on  in  this  fashion—"  This  here  man, 
(pointing  to  the  patrol,)  your  wortship, 
has  told  a  false  affidavit.  I  knows  that 
ere  chimley  from  a  hinfant,  and  she 
knows  my  foot  as  well  as  my  own  mother. 
The  way  as  I  goes  up  her  is  this  —  I  goes 
in  all  round  the  boiler,  then  I  twistes  in 
the  chimley  like  the  smoke,  and  then  up 
I  goes  with  the  wind,  for,  your  wortship, 
there's  a  wind  in  her  that  would  blow  you 
out  like  a  feather,  if  you  didn't  know  her 
as  well  as  I  do,  and  that  makes  me  al- 
ways go  to  the  top  myself,  because  there 
isn't  a  brick  in  her  that  doesn't  know  my 
foot.  So  that  you  see,  your  wortship,  no 
soot  or  blacks  is  ever  in  her  :  the  wind 
won't  let  'em  stop  :  and  besides  they 
knows  that  I  go  up  her  regular.  So  that 
she  always  keeps  herself  as  clean  as  a  new 
pin.  I'll  be  bound  the  sides  of  her  is  as 
clean  this  minute  as  I  am  (not  saying 
much  for  the  chimney);  therefore,  your 

*  Howard  on  Climate. 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  12. 


58 


wortship,  that  ere  man  as  saw  two  yards 
of  fire  coming  out  of  her,  did  not  see  no 
such  thing,  I  say ;  and  he  has  told  your 
wortship,  and  these  here  gentlemen  pre- 
sent, a  false  affidavit,  I  say.  I  was  brought 
up  in  that  chimley,  your  wortship,  and  I 
can't  abear  to  hear  such  things  said — lies 
of  her;  and  that's  all  as  I  knows  at  pre- 
sent, please  your  wortship."* 

AMUSEMENTS. 

The  London  Christmas  evenings  of 
1826,  appear  to  have  been  kept  out  of 
doors,  for  every  place  of  entertainment 
was  overflowing  every  night. 

At  this  season,  from  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  a  full  tide  of  passengers  sets  in 
along  every  leading  street  to  each  of  the 
theatres.  Hackney  coaches  drawl,  and 
cabriolets  make  their  way,  and  jostle  each 
other,  and  private  carriages  swiftly  roll, 
and  draw  up  to  the  box  door  with  a 
vigorous  sweep,  which  the  horses  of  hired 
vehicles  are  too  aged,  or  too  low  in  con- 
dition to  achieve.  Within  a  hundred 
yards  of  either  playhouse,  hands  are  con- 
tinually thrust  into  each  coach  window, 
with  "  a  bill  of  the  play,"  and  repeated 
cries  of  "  only  a  penny !"  The  coach- 
door  being  opened,  down  fall  the  steps 
with  a  sharp  clackity-clack-click,  and  the 
companies  alight,  if  they  can,  without  the 
supernumerary  aid  of  attendant  pliers,  who 
offer  their  over-ready  arms  to  lean  upon, 
and  kindly  entreat — "  Take  care,  sir  ! — 
mind  how  you  step  ma'am — this  way  if 
you  please — this  way,"  all  against  your 
will,  and  ending  with  "  I  hope  you'll 
please  to  remember  a  poor  fellow !"  the 
"  poor  fellow"  having  done  nothing  but 
interrupt  you.  When  past  the  "  pay 
place/'  great  coats,  umbrellas,  shawls  or 
other  useful  accompaniments  to  and  from 
"the  house,"  though  real  encumbrances 
within  it,  may  be  safely  deposited  with 
persons  stationed  for  their  reception,  who 
attach  tickets  to  them,  and  deliver  corres- 
ponding numbers,  which  ensure  the  return 
of  your  property  on  your  coming  out ;  six- 
pence or  a  shilling  being  a  gratuity  for  the 
accommodation.  Then,  when  the  whole  is 
over,  there  is  the  strict  blockade  of 
coaches  further  than  the  eye  can  reach ; 
servants  looking  out  for  the  parties  they 
came  with,  and  getting  up  their  masters' 
carriages ;  and  a  full  cry  of  hackney  coach- 
men and  their  representatives,  vociferating 


*  The  Time*,  5th  January,  1826. 


"  Want  a  coach,  sir?  Here's  your  coach 
sir !  Which  is  it,  sir  ?  Coach  to  the  city, 
sir !  West  end,  sir  !  Here  !  Coach  to  the 
city  !  Coach  to  Whitechapel  !  Coach  to 
Portman-square !  Coach  to  Pentonville ! 
Coach  to  the  Regent's  Park !  This  way  ! 
this  way  !  Stand  clear  there  !  Chariot,  or 
a  coach,  sir?  No  chariots,  sir,  and  all  the 
coaches  are  hired  !  There's  a  coach  here, 
sir — just  below  !  Coachman,  draw  up !" 
and  drawing  up  is  impossible,  and  there 
is  an  incessant  confusion  of  calls  and 
complaints,  and  running  against  each 
other,  arising  out  of  the  immediate  wants 
of  every  body,  which  can  only  be  succes- 
sively gratified.  Pedestrians  make  their 
way  home,  or  to  the  inns,  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible, or  turn  in  to  sup  at  the  fish-shops, 
which,  in  five  minutes,  are  more  lively 
than  their  oysters  were  at  any  time. 
"Waiter!  Waiter!  Yes,  sir  !  Attend  to 
you  directly,  sir !  Yours  is  gone  for,  sir ! 
Why,  I've  ordered  nothing  !  It's  coming 
directly,  sir !  Ginger-beer — why  this  is 
poison  !  Spruce — why  this  is  ginger-beer ! 
Porter,  sir  !  I  told  you  brandy  and  water! 
Stewed  oysters !  I  ordered  scolloped  ! 
When  am  I  to  have  my  supper  ?  You've 
had  it,  sir — I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  the 
gentleman  that  sat  here  is  gone,  sir! 
Waiter  !  waiter !"  and  so  on  ;  and  he  who 
has  patience,  is  sure  to  be  indulged  with 
an  opportunity  of  retaining  it,  amidst 
loud  talking  and  laughter ;  varied  views 
of  the  new  pantomime  ;  conflicting  testi- 
mony as  to  the  merits  of  the  clown  and 
the  harlequin  ;  the  "  new  scenery,  dresses, 
and  machinery;"  likings  and  dislikings 
of  certain  actresses ;  "  the  lovely  v  Miss 
So-and-so,  or  "  that  detestable"  woman, 
Mrs.  Such-an-one,  that  clever  fellow, 
"  Thing-a-merry,"  or  that  stupid  dog, 
"  What-d'ye-call-um."  These  topics  fail- 
ing, and  the  oysters  discussed,  then  are 
stated  and  considered  the  advantages  of 
taking  something  "to  keep 'em  down  ;''  the 
comparative  merits  of  Burton,  Wind- 
sor, or  Edinburgh  ale;  the  qualities  of 
porter ;  the  wholesomeness  of  smoking ; 
the  difference  between  a  pipe  and  a  segar, 
and  the  preference  of  one  to  the  other ; 
whether  brandy  or  rum,  or  the  clear  spi- 
rit of  juniper,  is  the  best  preservative  of 
health ;  which  of  the  company  or  their 
friends  can  drink  most;  whether  the  last 
fight  was  "  a  cross,"  and  who  of  all  the  men 
in  the  fancy  is  most  "game  ;"  whether  the 
magistrates  dare  to  interfere  with  "  the 
ring  ;"  whether  if  fighting  should  be  "  put 
an  end  to"  Englishmen  will  have  half 


59 

the   courage 
years    ago 
isted ; 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  12. 


60 


they    had    three     hundred 
before    prize     fighting    ex- 
whether   Thurtell    was    not 


sitters  after  the  play,  till  they  adjourn  to 
"  spend  the  evening"  at  the  "  flash-and- 
foolish"  houses  which  "  keep  it  up"  all 


good  one"  to  the  last,  and  whether  there's  night  in  the  peculiar  neighbourhood  of 

a  better  "  trump"  in  the  room.     On  these  the   public   office,  Bow-street.      This  is 

points,  or  to  points  like  these,  the  con-  more  than  mere  animal  gratification,  as 

versation  of  an  oyster  room  is  turned  by  the  police  reports  exemplify. 


Capital  oysters,  I  declare  ! 
Excellent  spruce,  and  ginger  beer  ! 
Don't  you  take  vinegar  ?  there's  the  bread — 
We'll  just  have  a  pipe — and  then  to  bed. 


Why  should  not  this  be  deemed  a  real 
scene,  and  as  respectable  as  that  just  de- 
scribed. It  is  quite  as  lively  and  as  in- 
tellectual. The  monkey  eats,  and  accord- 
ing to  many  accounts  can  catch  fish  as 
well  as  man.  It  is  told  of  this  animal, 
that  from  love  of  the  crab  and  experience 
of  his  claws,  he  gently  shakes  his  tail  be- 
fore the  hole  of  the  crab,  who,  as  soon  as 
he  begins  to  *'  pull  him  by  his  long  tail," 


is  drawn  out  by  that  dependancy  and  falls 
a  prey  to  his  decoyer.  It  is  related  that  a 
party  of  officers  belonging  to  the  25th 
regiment  of  infantry,  on  service  at  Gibral- 
tar, amused  themselves  with  whiting  fish- 
ing at  the  back  of  the  rock  till  they  were 
obliged  to  shift  their  ground  from  being 
pelted  from  above,  they  did  not  know 
by  whom.  At  their  new  station  they 
caught  plenty  of  fish, but  the  drum  having 


Gl 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  13. 


62 


unexpectedly  beat  to  arms,  they  rowed 
hastily  ashore,  and  drew  their  boat  high 
and  dry  upon  the  beach.  On  their  re- 
turn they  were  greatly  surprised  to  find  it 
in  a  different  position  ashore,  and  some 
hooks  baited  which  they  had  left  bare.  In 
the  end  it  was  ascertained  that  their  pelt- 
ers  while  they  were  fishing  were  a  party 
of  young  monkeys.  They  were  driven  off 
by  two  or  three  old  ones  who  remained  se- 
cretly observing  the  whiting  fishing  of  the 
officers  till  they  had  retired.  The  old  mon- 
keys then  launched  the  boat,  put  to  sea, 
baited  their  hooks,  and  proceeded  to  work 
The  few  fish  they  caught,they  hauled  up  with 
infinite  gratification,  and  when  tired  they 
landed,  placed  the  boat  as  nearly  as  they 
could  in  its  old  position,  and  went  up  the 
rock  with  their  prey.  General  Elliot, 
while  commander  at  Gibraltar,  never 
suffered  the  monkeys  with  which  the  rock 
abounds  to  be  molested  or  taken. 

The  faculty  of  imitation  in  monkeys  is 
limited,  but  not  so  in  man ;  a  remark- 
able instance  of  this  is  lately  adduced 
in  a  pleasant  little  story  of  perhaps  the 
greatest  performer  on  our  stage. 

Garrick. 

At   a   splendid   dinner-party    at    lord 

's  they  suddenly  missed  Garrick,  and 

could  not  imagine  what  was  become  of 
him,  till  they  were  drawn  to  the  window 
by  the  convulsive  screams  and  peals  of 
laughter  of  a  young  negro  boy,  who  was 
rolling  on  the  ground  in  an  ecstasy  of  de- 
light to  see  Garrick  mimicking  a  turkey- 
cock  in  the  court  yard,  with  his  coat-tail 
stuck  out  behind,  and  in  a  seeming  flutter 
of  feathered  rage  and  pride.  Of  our  party 
only  two  persons  present  had  seen  the 
British  Roscius ;  and  they  seemed  as  will- 
ing as  the  rest  to  renew  their  acquaint- 
ance with  their  old  favourite.  This  anec- 
dote is  new :  it  is  related  by  the  able 
writer  of  a  paper  concerning  "  Persons 
one  would  wish  to  have  seen,"*  as  an  in- 
stance of  Garrick's  singleness  of  purpose 
when  he  was  fully  possessed  by  an  idea. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  34  •  45. 


13. 


1826,     Hilary  Cambridge  Term  begins. 
St.  VERONICA. 

Some  curious  circumstances  are  con- 
nected with  the  name  of  this  saint,  who 
appears  to  have  been  a  poor  ignorant 
girl,  born  near  Milan,  where  she  worked 
in  the  fields  for  her  living.  Conceiving  a 
desire  to  become  a  nun,  she  sat  up  at 
night  to  learn  to  read  and  write,  which, 
her  biographer  says,  for  want  of  an  in- 
structor, was  a  great  fatigue  to  her.  He 
proceeds  to  tell  us,  that  she  was  relieved 
from  labour  of  that  kind  in  the  following 
manner:  —  "  One  day,  being  in  great 
anxiety  about  her  learning,  the  mother  of 
God,  in  a  comfortable  vision,  bade  her 
banish  that  anxiety,  for  it  was  enough  if 
she  knew  three  letters."  So  Veronica 
became  a  nun,  seeking  "  the  greatest 
drudgery,"  desiring  "  to  live  always  on 
bread  and  water,"  and  dying  "  at  the 
hour  which  she  had  foretold,  in  the  year 
1497,  and  the  fifty-second  of  her  age. 
Her  sanctity  was  confirmed  by  miracles." 
We  gather  this  from  Alban  Butler,  who 
subjoins,  by  way  of  note,  thus  :  — 

"  The  print  of  the  holy  face  of  our 
Saviour  on  a  linen  cloth  is  kept  in  St. 
Peter's  church  at  Rome,  with  singular 
veneration.  —  Some  private  writers  and 
churches  have  given  the  name  of  St. 
Veronica  to  the  devout  woman  who  is 
said  to  have  presented  this  linen  to  our 
divine  Redeemer,  but  without  sufficient 
warrant." 


Before  saying  any  thing  concerning  the 
earlier  St.  Veronica,  or  "  this  linen " 
whereon  Romish  writers  allege  Christ 
impressed  his  own  portrait  by  wiping  his 
face  with  it,  mention  may  be  made  of 
another  portrait  of  him  which  Romish 
writers  affirm  he  miraculously  executed 
in  the  same  manner,  and  sent  to  Abgarus, 
king  of  Edessa,  in  the  way  hereafter 
related.  They  have  further  been  so  care- 
ful as  to  publish  a  print  of  this  pretended 
portrait,  with  representations  around  il- 
lustrating the  history  they  tell  of  it.  An 
engraving  from  it  immediately  follows. 
The  Latin  inscription  beneath  their  print 
is  placed  beneath  the  present  engraving 


*  In  the  New  Monthly  Magazine,  Jan.  1826. 


THE  EVERY-D/VY  BOOK.— JANUARY  13. 


64 


Cftrfeti  Bomfnf. 

Ex  ipsomet  Divino  Exemplari  AD  ABGARUM  missa  Genuas  in  Ecelesia  S'.1  Bartolomcei 
Clericorum  Reg.  S1.1  Pauli  Summa  Veneratione  asservato 

amiratfe&tme 

No  circumstance  is  more  remarkable 
than  the  existence  of  this  pretended  re- 
semblance, as  an  object  of  veneration  in 
the  Romish  church.  Being  one  of  the 
greatest  curiosities  in  its  numerous  cabi- 
nets of  relics,  it  has  a  place  in  this  work, 
which,  while  it  records  manners  and  cus- 
toms, endeavours  to  point  out  their  origin, 


and  the  means  by  which  they  have  been 
continued.  Nor  let  it  be  imagined  that 
these  representations  have  not  influenced 
our  own  country ;  there  is  evidence  to  the 
contrary  already,  and  more  can  be  adduced 
if  need  require,  which  will  incontestably 
prove  that  many  of  our  present  popular 
customs  are  derived  from  such  sources. 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— JANUARY  14. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  35  •  27. 

Sanuarg  14. 

1826.     Oxford  Hilary  Term  begins. 

SAILORS. 

Mariners  form  a  distinct  community, 
with  peculiar  manners,  little  known  to 
their  inland  fellow  countrymen,  except 
through  books.  In  this  way  Smollett  has 
done  much,  and  from  Mr.  Leigh  Hunt's 
*  Indicator,"  which  may  not  be  in  every 
one's  hands,  though  it  ought  to  be,  is  ex- 
tracted the  following  excellent  descrip- 
tion: 

SEAMEN  ON  SHORE. 

And  tirst  of  the  common  sailor. — The 
moment  the  common  sailor  lands,  he  goes 
tc  see  the  watchmaker,  or  the  old  boy  at 
the  Ship.  His  first  object  is  to  spend  his 
money :  but  his  first  sensation  is  the 
strange  firmness  of  the  earth,  which  he 
goes  treading  in  a  sort  of  heavy  light  way, 
half  waggoner  and  half  dancing  master, 
his  shoulders  rolling,  and  his  feet  touching 
and  going;  the  same  way,  in  short,  in 
which  he  keeps  himself  prepared  for  all 
the  rolling  chances  of  the  vessel,  when  on 
deck.  There  is  always,  to  us,  this  ap- 
pearance of  lightness  of  foot  and  heavy 
strength  of  upper  works,  in  a  sailor.  And 
he  feels  it  himself.  He  lets  his  jacket  fly 
open,  and  his  shoulders  slouch,  and  his 
hair  grow  long  to  be  gathered  into  a 
heavy  pigtail ;  but  when  full  dressed,  he 
prides  himself  on  a  certain  gentility  of 
toe ;  on  a  white  stocking  and  a  natty 
shoe,  issuing  lightly  out  of  the  flowing 
blue  trowser.  His  arms  are  neutral, 
hanging  and  swinging  in  a  curve  aloof; 
his  hands,  half  open,  look  as  if  they  had 
just  been  handling  ropes,  and  had  no 
object  in  life  but  to  handle  them  again. 
He  is  proud  of  appearing  in  a  new  hat 
and  slops,  with  a  belcher  handkerchief 
flowing  loosely  round  his  neck,  and  the 
corner  of  another  out  of  his  pocket.  Thus 
equipped,  with  pinchbeck  buckles  in  his 
shoes  (which  he  bought  for  gold)  he  puts 
some  tobacco  in  hi*  mouth,  not  as  if  he 
v/ere  going  to  use  it  directly,  but  as  if  he 
stuffed  it  in  a  pouch  on  one  side,  as  a 
pelican  does  fish,  to  employ  it  hereafter : 
and  so,  with  Bet  Monson  at  his  side,  and 
No.  55. 


perhaps  a  cane  or  whanghee  twisted 
under  his  other  arm,  sallies  forth  to  take 
possession  of  all  Lubberland.  He  buys 
every  thing  that  he  comes  athwart, — nuts, 
gingerbread,  apples,  shoe-strings,  beeu 
brandy,  gin,  buckles,  knives,  a  watch, 
(two,  if  he  has  money  enough,)  gowns 
and  handkerchiefs  for  Bet,  and^his  mother 
and  sisters,  dozens  of  "  superfine  best 
men's  cotton  stockings,"  dozens  of  "  su- 
perfine best  women's  cotton  ditto,"  best 
good  check  for  shirts  (though  he  has  too 
much  already),  infinite  needles  and  thread 
(to  sew  his  trowsers  with  some  day),  a 
footman's  laced  hat,  bear's  grease  to  make 
his  hair  grow  (by  way  of  joke),  several 
sticks,  all  sorts  of  jew  articles,  a  flute 
(which  he  can't  play  and  never  intends), 
a  leg  of  mutton  which  he  carries  some- 
where to  roast,  and  for  a  piece  of  which 
the  landlord  of  the  Ship  makes  him  pay 
twice  what  he  gave  for  the  whole ; — in 
short,  all  that  money  can  be  spent  upon, 
which  is  every  thing  but  medicine  gratis  ; 
and  this  he  would  insist  on  paying  for. 
He  would  buy  all  the  painted  parrots  on 
an  Italian's  head,  on  purpose  to  break 
them,  rather  than  not  spend  his  money. 
He  has  fiddles  and  a  dance  at  the  Ship, 
with  oceans  of  flip  and  grog ;  and  gives 
the  blind  fiddler  tobacco  for  sweetmeats, 
and  half  a  crown  for  treading  on  his  toe. 
He  asks  the  landlady  with  a  sigh,  after 
her  daughter  Nance  who  first  fired  his 
heart  with  her  silk  stockings  ;  and  finding 
that  she  is  married  and  in  trouble,  leaves 
five  crowns  for  her;  which  the  old  lady 
appropriates  as  part  payment  for  a  shil- 
ling in  advance.*  He  goes  to  the  port 
playhouse  with  Bet  Monson,  and  a  great 
red  handkerchief  full  of  apples,  ginger- 
bread nuts,  and  fresh  beef;  calls  out  for 
the  fiddlers  and  Rule  Britannia;  pelts 
Tom  Sikes  in  the  pit ;  and  compares 
Othello  to  the  black  ship's  cook  in  his 
white  night-cap.  When  he  comes  to 
London,  he  and  some  messmates  take  a 
hackney-coach,  full  of  Bet  Monsons  and 
tobacco  pipes,  and  go  through  the  streets 
smoking  and  lolling  out  of  window.  He 
has  ever  been  cautious  of  venturing  on 
horseback  ;  and  among  his  other  sights  in 
foreign  parts,  relates  with  unfeigned  as- 
tonishment how  he  has  seen  the  Turks 
ride, — "  Only,"  says  he,  guarding  against 
the  hearer's  incredulity,  "  they  have  sad- 
dle-boxes to  hold  'em  in,  fore  and  aft ; 
and  shovels  like  for  stirrups."  He  will 
tell  you  how  the  Chinese  drink,  and  the 
NEGURS  dance,  and  the  monkies  pelt  you 


67 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  « 4 


63 


with  cocoa-nuts;  and  how  king  Domv 
would  have  built  him  a  mud  hut  and 
made  him  a  peer  of  the  realm,  if  he  would 
have  stopped  with  him  and  taught  him  to 
make  trowsers.  He  has  a  sister  at  a 
"  school  for  young  ladies,"  who  blushes 
with  a  mixture  of  pleasure  and  shame  at 
his  appearance;  and  whose  confusion  he 
completes,  by  slipping  fourpence  into  her 
hand,  and  saying  out  loud  that  he  has  "  no 
more  copper"  about  him.  His  mother 
and  elder  sisters  at  home  doat  on  all  he 
says  and  does,  telling  him  however  that 
he  is  a  great  sea-fellow,  and  was  always 
wild  ever  since  he  was  a  hop-o'-my-thumb 
no  higher  than  the  window-locker.  He 
tells  his  mother  she  would  be  a  duchess 
in  Paranaboo;  at  which  the  good  old 
portly  dame  laughs  and  looks  proud. 
When  his  sisters  complain  of  his  romping, 
he  says  that  they  are  only  sorry  it  is  not 
the  baker.  He  frightens  them  with  a 
mask  made  after  the  New  Zealand  fashion, 
and  is  forgiven  for  his  learning.  .  Their 
mantle-piece  is  filled  by  him  with  shells 
and  shark's  teeth ;  and  when  he  goes  to  sea 
again,  there  is  no  end  of  tears,  and  God' 
bless  you,  and  home-made  gingerbread. 

His  officer  on  shore  does  much  of  all 
this,  only,  generally  speaking,  in  a  higher 
taste.  The  moment  he  lands  he  buys 
quantities  of  jewellery  and  other  valu- 
ables, for  all  the  females  of  his  acquaint- 
ance ;  and  is  taken  in  for  every  article. 
He  sends  in  a  cart  load  of  fresh  meat  to 
the  ship,  though  he  is  going  to  town  next 
day ;  and  calling  in  at  a  chandler's  for 
some  candles,  is  persuaded  to  buy  a 
dozen  of  green  wax,  with  which  he  lights 
up  the  ship  at  evening ;  regretting  that 
the  fine  moonlight  hinders  the  effect  of 
the  colour.  A  man,  with  a  bundle  be- 
neath his  arm,  accosts  him  in  an  under- 
tone ;  and,  with  a  look  in  which  respect 
for  his  knowledge  is  mixed  with  an 
avowed  zeal  for  his  own  interest,  asks  if 
his  honour  will  just  step  under  the  gang- 
way here,  and  inspect  some  real  India 
shawls.  The  gallant  lieutenant  says  to 
himself,  "  this  fellow  knows  what's  what 
by  his  face ;"  and  so  he  proves  it  by  being 
taken  in  on  the  spot.  When  he  brings 
the  shawls  home,  he  says  to  his  sister 
with  an  air  of  triumph,  "  there  Poll, 
there's  something  for  you  ;  only  cost  me 
twelve,  and  is  worth  twenty,  if  it's  worth 
a  dollar."  She  turns  pale — "  Twenty 
what,  my  dear  George  ?  Why,  you 
haven't  given  twelve  dollars  for  it,  I 
hope  1"  "  Not  I,  by  the  Lord."—"  That's 


lucky  ;  because  you  see,  my  dear  George, 
that  all  together  is  not  worth  more  thau 
fourteen  or  fifteen  shillings."  "  Fourteen 
or  fifteen  what !  Why,  it's  real  India,  en't 
it  ?  Why  the  fellow  told  me  so  ;  or  I'm 
sure  I'd  as  soon'' — (here  he  tries  to  hide 
his  blushes  with  a  bluster)  "  I'd  as  soon 
have  given  him  twelve  douses  en  the 
chaps  as  twelve  guineas."  "  Twelve 
GUINEAS,"  exclaims  the  sister;  and  then 
drawling  forth  "  Why  —  my — DEAR — 
George,"  is  proceeding  to  show  him  what 
the  articles  would  have  cost  him  at  Con- 
dell's,  when  he  interrupts  her  by  request- 
ing her  to  go  and  choose  for  herself  a  tea- 
table  service.  He  then  makes  his  escape 
to  some  messmates  at  a  coffee-house,  and 
drowns  his  recollection  of  the  shawls  in 
the  best  wine,  and  a  discussion  on  the 
comparative  merits  of  the  English  and 
West  Indian  beauties  and  tables.  At  the 
theatre  afterwards,  where  he  has  never 
been  before,  he  takes  a  lady  at  the  back 
of  one  of  the  boxes  for  a  woman  of  qua- 
lity: and  when  after  returning  his  long 
respectful  gaze  with  a  smile,  she  turns 
aside  and  puts  her  handkerchief  to  her 
mouth,  he  thinks  it  is  in  derision,  till 
his  friend  undeceives  him.  He  is  intro- 
duced to  the  lady ;  and  ever  afterwards, 
at  first  sight  of  a  woman  of  quality  (with- 
out any  disparagement  either  to  those 
charming  personages),  expects  her  to  give 
him  a  smile.  He  thinks  the  other  ladies 
much  better  creatures  than  they  are  taken 
for  ;  and  for  their  parts,  they  tell  him,  that 
if  all  men  were  like  himself,  they  would 
trust  the  sex  again  : — which,  for  aught  we 
know,  is  the  truth.  He  has,  indeed,  what 
he  thinks  a  very  liberal  opinion  of  ladies 
in  general ;  judging  them  all,  in  a  manner, 
with  the  eye  of  a  seaman's  experience. 
Yet  he  will  believe  nevertheless  in  the 
"  true-love"  of  any  given  damsel  whom 
he  seeks  in  the  way  of  marriage,  let  him 
roam  as  much,  or  remain  as  long  at  a 
distance  as  he  pleases.  It  is  not  that  he 
wants  feeling;  but  that  he  has  read  of  it, 
time  out  of  mind,  in  songs ;  and  he 
looks  upon  constancy  as  a  sort  of  exploit, 
answering  to  those  which  he  performs  at 
sea.  He  is  nice  in  his  watches  and  linen. 
He  makes  you  presents  of  cornelians,  an- 
tique seals,  cocoa-nuts  set  in  silver,  and 
other  valuables.  When  he  shakes  hands 
with  you,  it  is  like  being  caught  in  a 
windlass.  He  would  not  swagger  about 
the  streets  in  his  uniform,  for  the  world. 
He  is  generally  modest  in  company, 
though  liable  to  be  irritated  by  what  he 


THE  EVERY- DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  15. 


70 


thinks  un gentlemanly  behaviour.  He  is 
also  liable  to  be  rendered  irritable  by 
sickness ;  partly  because  he  has  been 
used  to  command  others,  and  to  be  served 
with  all  possible  deference  and  alacrity  ; 
and  partly,  because  the  idea  of  suffering 
pain,  without  any  honour  or  profit  to  get 
by  it,  is  unprofessional,  and  he  is  not 
accustomed  to  it.  He  treats  talents  un- 
like  his  own  with  great  respect.  He  often 
perceives  his  own  so  little  felt  that  it 
teaches  him  this  feeling  for  that  of  others. 
Besides,  he  admires  the  quantity  of  in- 
formation which  people  can  get,  without 
travelling  like  himself;  especially  when 
he  sees  how  interesting  his  own  becomes, 
to  them  as  well  as  to  every  body  else. 
When  he  tells  a  story,  particularly  if  full 
of  wonders,  he  takes  care  to  maintain  his 
character  for  truth  and  simplicity,  by  qua- 
lifying it  with  all  possible  reservations, 
concessions,  and  anticipations  of  objec- 
tion ;  such  as  "  in  case,  at  such  times  as, 
so  to  speak,  as  it  were,  at  least,  at  any 
rate."  He  seldom  uses  sea-terms  but 
when  jocosely  provoked  by  something 
contrary  to  his  habits  of  life ;  as  for  in- 
stance, if  he  is  always  meeting  you  on 
horseback,  he  asks  if  you  never  mean  to 
walk  the  deck  again ;  or  if  he  finds  you 
studying  day  after  day,  he  says  you  are 
always  overhauling  your  log-book.  He 
makes  more  new  acquaintances,  and  for- 
gets his  old  ones  less,  than  any  other  man 
in  the  busy  world  ;  for  he  is  so  compelled 
to  make  his  home  every  where,  remem- 
bers his  native  one  as  such  a  place  of 
enjoyment,  has  all  his  friendly  recollec- 
tions so  fixed  upon  his  mind  at  sea,  and 
has  so  much  to  tell  and  to  hear  when  he 
returns,  that  change  and  separation  lose 
with  him  the  most  heartless  part  of  their 
nature.  He  also  sees  such  a  variety  of 
customs  and  manners,  that  he  becomes 
charitable  in  his  opinions  altogether ;  and 
charity,  while  it  diffuses  the  affections, 
cannot  let  the  old  ones  go.  Half  the  se- 
cret of  human  intercourse  is  to  make  al- 
lowance for  each  other. 

When  the  officer  is  superannuated  or 
retires,  he  becomes,  if  intelligent  and  in- 
quiring, one  of  the  most  agreeable  old 
men  in  the  world,  equally  welcome  to  the 
silent  for  his  card-playing,  and  to  the 
conversational  for  his  recollections.  He 
is  fond  of  astronomy  and  books  of  voy- 
ages ;  and  is  immortal  with  all  who  know 
him,  for  having  been  round  the  world,  or 
seen  the  Transit  of  Venus,  or  had  one  of 
his  finger?  carried  off  by  a  New  Zealand 


hatchet,  or  a  present  of  feathers  from  an 
Otaheitean  beauty.  If  not  elevated  by 
his  acquirements  above  some  of  his  hum- 
bler tastes,  he  delights  in  a  corner-cup- 
board holding  his  cocoa-nuts  and  punch- 
bowl; has  his  summer-house  castellated 
and  planted  with  wooden  cannon;  and 
sets  up  the  figure  of  his  old  ship,  the  Bri- 
tannia or  the  Lovely  Nancy,  for  a  statue 
in  the  garden ;  where  it  stares  eternally 
with  red  cheeks  and  round  black  eyes,  as 
if  in  astonishment  at  its  situation. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  36  •  20. 

Sfanuarp  15. 

Changes  of  Climate. 

An  opinion  has  been  long  entertained, 
that  there  are  vicissitudes  in  the  climate  and 
temperature  of  the  air  unknown  to  former 
times,  and  that  such  variations  exist  in 
America  as  well  as  in  Europe.  It  is  said 
that  the  transatlantic  changes  have  been 
more  frequent,  and  the  heat  of  the  sun 
not  so  early  or  so  strongly  experienced 
as  formerly.  In  America,  these  altera- 
tions are  attributed  to  a  more  obvious 
cause  than  uncertain  hypothesis,  and  at 
not  many  degrees  distance.  For  instance, 
the  ice  in  the  great  river  St.  Lawrence,  at 
Quebec,  did  not  break  up  till  the  first 
week  in  May,  1817,  when  it  floated  down 
the  stream  in  huge  masses,  and  in  vast 
quantities;  these,  with  other  masses  from 
the  coast  of  Labrador,  &c.  spread  a 
general  coldness  many  degrees  to  the 
southward.  But  a  few  weeks  before  the 
snow  fell  in  some  parts  of  New  England, 
and  New  York,  to  a  considerable  depth, 
and  there  were  severe  frosts.  The  vessels 
from  England  and  Ireland,  which  arrived 
at  Quebec,  all  concurred  in  their  accounts 
of  the  dangers  which  they  encountered, 
and  the  cold  which  they  suffered.  In 
fine,  it  would  appear  that  the  ice  in  those 
regions  had  accumulated  to  so  alarming  a 
degree,  as  to  threaten  a  material  change 
in  all  the  adjacent  countries,  and  to  verify 
the  theory  of  some  who  imagined  that  the 
extreme  cold  of  the  north  was  gradually 
making  encroachments  upon  the  extreme 
heat  of  the  south.  They  have  remarked, 
in  confirmation  of  their  opinions,  that  the 
accounts  of  travellers  and  navigators, 
furnish  strong  reasons  for  supposing  that 
the  islands  of  ice  in  the  higher  northern 
latitudes,  as  well  as  the  glaciers  on  the 


7t 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY    15. 


Alps,  continue  perpetually  to  increase  in 
bulk.  At  certain  times,  in  the  ice  moun- 
tains of  Switzerland,  there  occur  fissures, 
which  show  the  immense  thickness  of  the 
frozen  matter ;  some  of  these  cracks  have 
measured  three  or  four  hundred  ells  deep. 
The  great  islands  of  ice,  in  the  northern 
seas  bordering  upon  Hudson's  Bay,  have 
been  observed  to  be  immersed  one 


Reasonings  of  this  kind  are  supported 
by  the  greatest  names,  and  countenanced 
by  the  authentic  reports  of  the  best  in- 
formed travellers.  Mr.  Bradley  attribute? 
the  cold  winds  and  wet  weather,  which 
sometimes  happen  in  May  and  June,  to 
the  solution  of  ice  islands  accidentally 
detached  and  floating  from  the  north. 
Mr.  Barham,  about  the  year  1718,  in  his 


hundred  fathoms  beneath  the  surface  of    voyage  from  Jamaica  to  England,  in  the 


the  sea,  and  to  have  risen  a  fifth  or  sixth 
part  above  the  surface,  measuring,  at  the 
same  time,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  in 
diameter.  It  has  been  shown  by  Dr. 
Lyster,  that  the  marine  ice  contains  some 
salt,  and  less  air,  than  common  ice,  and 


beginning  of  June,  met  with  some  of 
those  islands,  which  were  involved  in  such 
a  fog  that  the  ship  was  in  danger  of  strik- 
ing against  them.  One  of  them  measur- 
ed sixty  miles  in  length. 

On  the  22d  of  December,  1789,  there 


that  it  therefore  is  more  difficult  of  solu-..  was  an  instance  of  ice  islands  having  been 
tion.  From  these  premises,  he  endea-  wafted  from  the  southern  polar  regions, 
vours  to  account  for  the  perpetual  aug-  It  was  on  these  islands  that  the  Guardian 
mentation  of  those  floating  islands.  By  a  struck,  at  the  commencement  of  her 
celebrated  experiment  of  Mr.  Boyle,  it  passage  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope 
has  been  demonstrated  that  ice  evaporates  towards  Botany  Bay.  These  islands 

were  wrapt  in  darkness,  about  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  fathoms  long,  and  above 
fifty  fathoms  above  the  surface  of  the 
waves.  In  the  process  of  solution,  a 
fragment  from  the  summit  of  one  of  them 


very  fast,  in  severe  frosty  weather,  when 
the  wind  blows  upon  it ;  and  as  ice,  in  a 
thawing  state,  is  known  to  contain  six 
times  more  cold  than  water,  at  the  same 
degree  of  sensible  coldness,  it  is  easy  to 
conceive  that  winds  sweeping  over  islands 
and  continents  of  ice,  perhaps  much 
below  northing  on  Fahrenheit's  scale,  and 
rushing  thence  into  our  latitudes,  must 


broke  off,    and    plunging   into   the   sea, 
caused  a  tremendous  commotion  in  the 
water,  and  dense  smoke  all  around  it 
These  facts  were  strongly  urged  upon 


bring  most  intense  degrees  of  cold  along  public  attention  in  the  autumn  of  1817,* 
with  them.  If  to  this  be  added  the  as  grounds  of  not  only  curious  and  inter- 
quantity  of  cold  produced  by  the  evapo-  esting,  but  likewise  of  highly  important 
ration  of  the  water,  as  well  as  by  the  speculation.  A  supposed  change  in  the 
solution  of  ice,  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted  temper,  and  the  very  character  of  our 
but  that  the  arctic  seas  are  the  principal  seasons,  was  deemed  to  have  fallen  within 
source  of  the  cold  of  our  winters,  and  the  observation  of  even  young  men,  or  at 
that  it  is  brought  hither  by  the  regions  least  middle-aged  men ;  and  upon  this 
of  the  air  blowing  from  the  north,  and  supposition,  it  was  not  deemed  extrava- 
which  take  an  apparently  easterly  direc-  gant  to  anticipate  the  combined  force  of 
tipn,  by  their  coming  to  a  part  of  the  the  naval  world  employed  in  navigating 
surface  of  the  earth,  which  moves  faster  the  immense  masses  of  ice  into  the  more 
than  the  latitude  from  which  they  origi-  southern  oceans  ;  while  to  render  the 
nate.  Hence,  the  increase  of  the  ice  in  notion  more  agreeable,  and  to  enliven  the 
the  polar  regions,  by  increasing  the  cold  minds  of  such  as  might  think  such  matters 
of  our  climate,  adds',  at  the  same  time,  to  of  speculation  dull  or  uninteresting,  the 
the  bulk  of  the  glaciers  of  Italy  and  project  was  laid  before  them  in  a  versified 

garb,  characterising  the  arctic  region* 

There  in  her  azure  coif,  and  starry  stole, 

Grey  Twilight  sits,  and  rules  the  slumbering  pole ; 

Bends  the  pale  moon-beams  round  the  sparkling  coast, 

And  strews,  with  livid  hands,  eternal  frost ! 

There,  Nymphs  !  alight,  array  your  dazzling  powers, 

With  sudden  march  alarm  the  torpid  hours; 

On  ice-built  isles  expand  a  thousand  sails, 

Hinge  the  strong  helm,  and  catch  the  frozen  gales  ; 

The  winged  rocks  to  feverish  climates  guide, 

Where  fainting  zephyrs  pant  upon  the  tide  ; 


Switzerland. 


*  See  M.  Chronicle,  4  Oct. 


73 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  16. 


7-1 


Pass  where  to  Ceuta  Calpe's  thunder  roars, 
And  answering  echoes  shake  the  kindred  shores  ; 
Pass  where  with  palmy  plumes  Canary  smiles, 
And  in  her  silver  girdle  binds  her  isles  ; 
Onward,  where  Niger's  dusky  Naiad  laves 
A  thousand  kingdoms  with  prolific  waves, 
Or  leads  o'er  golden  sands  her  threefold  train 
In  steamy  channels  to  the  fervid  main, 
While  swarthy  nations  crowd  the  sultry  coast, 
Drink  the  fresh  breeze,  and  hail  the  floating  frost ; 
Nymphs !  veil'd  in  mist,  the  melting  treasures  steer, 
And  cool  with  artic  snows  the  tropic  year. 
So  from  the  burning  line,  by  monsoons  driv'n, 
Clouds  sail  in  squadrons  o'er  the  darken'd  heav'n  , 
Wide  wastes  of  sand  the  gelid  gales  pervade, 
And  ocean  cools  beneath  the  moving  shade. 


Darwin. 


NATUKALISTS  .  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  35  •  05. 


Sanuarp  16. 

110GMANY. 

Mr.  Reddock's  paper  on  this  subject, 
at  page  13.  has  elicited  the  following 
fetter  from  a  literary  gentleman,  concern- 
mg  a  dramatic  representation  in  England 
similar  to  that  which  Mr.  Reddock  in- 
stances at  Falkirk,  and  other  parts  of 
North  Britain.  Such  communications  are 
particularly  acceptable;  because  they  show 
to  what  extent  usages  prevail,  and  wherein 
they  differ  in  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try. Tt  will  be  gratifying  to  every  one 
who  peruses  this  work,  and  highly  so  to 
the  editor,  if  he  is  obliged  by  letters  from 
readers  acquainted  with  customs  in  their 
own  vicinity,  similar  to  those  that 
they  are  informed  of  in  other  counties, 
and  particularly  if  they  will  take  the 
trouble  to  describe  them  in  every  particu- 
lar. By  this  means,  the  Every- Day  Book 
will  become  what  it  is  designed  to  be 
made, — a  storehouse  of  past  and  present 
manners  and  customs.  Any  customs  of 
any  place  or  season  that  have  not  already 
appeared  in  the  worK,  are  earnestly  solicited 
from  those  who  have  the  means  of  fur- 
nishing the  information  The  only  con- 
dition stipulated  for,  as  absolutely  indis- 
pensable to  the  insertion  of  a  letter  re- 
specting facts  of  this  nature,  is,  that  the 
name  and  address  of  the  writer  be  com- 
municated to  the  ediior,  who  will  subjoin 
such  signature  as  the  writer  may  choose 
Ms  letter  should  bear  to  the  eye  of  the 
public.  The  various  valuable  articles  of 


this  kind  which  have  hitherto  appeared  in 
the  work,  however  signed  by  initials  or 
otherwise,  have  been  so  authenticated  to 
the  editor's  private  satisfaction,  and  he 
is  thus  enabled  to  vouch  for  the  genuine- 
ness of  such  contributions. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Everyday  Book. 

Sir, 

In  your  last  number  appeared  a  very 
amusing  article  touching  some  usages  and 
customs  in  Scotland,  and  communicated 
from  Falkirk.  In  the  description  of  the 
boys'  play,  ingeniously  suggested  as 
typical  of  the  Roman  invasion  under 
Agricola,  we,  however,  read  but  a  varied 
edition  of  what  is  enacted  in  other  parts 
besides  Scotland,  and  more  particularly 
in  the  western  counties,  by  those  troops 
of  old  Father  Christmas  boys,  which 
are  indeed  brief  chronicles  of  the  times. 
I  mean,  those  paper-decorated,  brick- 
dust-daubed  urchins,  'yclept  Mummers. 

To  be  sure  they  do  not  begin, 
"  Here  conies  in  the  king  of  Macedon ;" 
but  we  have  instead, 

"  Here  comes  old  Father  Christmas, 
Christmas  or  Christmas  not, 
I  hope  old  Father  Christmas  never  will  be 
forgot." 

And  then  for  the  Scottish  leader  Galgacus, 

we  find, 

"  Here  comes  in  St.  George,  St.  George 

That  man  of  mighty  name, 

With  sword  and  buckler  by  my  side 

1  hope  to  tvin  the  game." 

These  *'  western  kernes  "  have  it,  you  see, 
Mr.  Editor,  "  down  along,"  to  use  their 
own  dialect,  with  those  of  the  thistle. 
Then,  too,  we  havi  a  fight.  Oh  !  how 


75 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  16. 


76 


beautiful  to  my  boyish  eyes  were  their 
wooden  swords  and  their  bullying  gait ! 
—then  we  have  a  fight,  for  lo 

"  Here's  come  I,  the  Turkish  knight, 
Come  from  the  Sol  dan's  land  to  fight, 
And  be  the  foe's  blood  hot  and  bold 
With  my  sword  I'll  make  it  cold." 

A  vile  Saracenic  pun  in  the  very  minute 
of  deadly  strife.  But  they  fight — the 
cross  is  victorious,  the  crescent  o'erthrown, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  even  in  our 
pieces  of  mock  valour,  duels  we  have 
therein — the  doctor  is  sent  for ;  and  he  is 
addressed,  paralleling  again  our  players  of 
"  Scotia's  wild  domain,"  with 

'*  Doctor,  doctor,  can  you  tell 
What  will  make  a  sick  man  well  ?" 

and  thereupon  he  enumerates  cures  which 
would  have  puzzled  Galen,  and  put  Hip- 
pocrates to  a  "  non-plus ;"  and  he  finally 
agrees,  as  in  the  more  classical  drama  of 
your  correspondent,  to  cure  our  unbeliever 
for  a  certain  sum. 

The  "  last  scene  of  all  that  ends  this 
strange  eventful  history''  consists  in  the 
entrance  of  the  most  diminutive  of  these 
Thespians,  bearing,  as  did  .ZEneas  of  old, 
his  parent  upon  his  shoulders,  and  reciting 
this  bit  of  good  truth  and  joculation  (per- 
mitting the  word)  by  way  of  epilogue : 

*'  Here  comes  I,  little  Johnny  Jack, 
With  my  wife  and  family  at  my  back, 
Yet,  though  my  body  is  but  small, 
I'm  the  greatest  rogue  amongst  ye  all ; 
This  is  my  scrip — so  for  Christmas  cheer 
If  you've  any  thing  to  give  throw  it  in  here*" 

This  may  be  but  an  uninteresting  tail- 
piece to  your  correspondent's  clever  com- 
munication, but  still  it  is  one,  and  makes 
the  picture  he  so  well  began  of  certain 
usages  more  full  of  point. 

I  doat  upon  old  customs,  and  I  love 
hearty  commemorations,  and  hence  those 
mimics  of  whom  I  have  written — I  mean 
the  mummers — are  my  delight,  and  in  the 
laughter  and  merriment  they  create  I  for- 
get to  be  a  critic,  and  cannot  choose  but 
laugh  in  the  fashion  of  a  Democritus, 
rather  than  weep  worlds  away  in  the  style 
of  a  Diogenes. 

I  am,  &c.  &c. 

J.  S.  jun. 

Little  Chelsea, 
Jan.  4,  1826. 


In  the  preface  to  Mr.  Davies  Gilbert's 
work  on  "Ancient  Christmas  Carols," 
there  is  an  account  of  Cornish  sports, 


with  a  description  of  a  "  metrical  play,v 
which  seems  to  be  the  same  with  which 
is  the  subject  of  the  preceding  letter. 

Being  on  the  popular  drama,  and  as 
the  topic  arose  in  Mr.  Reddock's  commu- 
nication from  Scotland,  a  whimsical  dra- 
matic anecdote,  with  another  of  like  kin 
from  that  part  of  the  kingdom,  is  here  sub- 
joined from  a  Scottish  journal  of  this 
month  in  the  year  1823. 

New  Readings  of  Burns. 

We  were  lately  favoured  with  the  peru- 
sal of  a  Perth  play -bill,  in  which  Tarn 
O'Shanter,  dramatized,  is  announced  for 
performance  as  the  afterpiece.  A  ludi- 
crous mistake  has  occurred,  however,  in 
the  classification  of  the  Dramatis  Per- 
sonce.  The  sapient  playwright,  it  would 
appear,  in  reading  the  lines 

"  Tarn  had  got  planted  unco  richt, 

Fast  by  an  ingle  bleezin*  finely, 

Wi'  reaman'  swats  that  drank  divinely," 

very  naturally  conceiving  ream  an'  swats, 
from  the  delectable  style  of  their  carous- 
ing, to  be  a  brace  of  Tarn's  pot  compa- 
nions, actually  introduced  them  as  such, 
as  we  find  in  the  bill  that  the  characters 
of  "  Ream"  and  "  Swats"  are  to  be  per- 
sonated by  two  of  the  performers  ! 

This  reminds  us  of  an  anecdote,  con- 
nected with  the  same  subject,  which  had 
its  origin  nearer  home.  Some  time  ago 
we  chanced  to  be  in  the  shop  of  an  elderly 
bookseller,  when  the  conversation  turned 
upon  the  identity  of  the  characters  intro- 
duced by  Burns  in  his  Tarn  O'Shanter. 
The  bibliopole,  who  had  spent  the  early 
part  of  his  life  in  this  neighbourhood,  as- 
sured us  that,  "  exceptin'  Kerr,  he  kent 
every  body  to  leuk  at  that  was  mention- 
ed, frae  Tarn  himsel'  doun  to  his  mare 
Maggie."  This  being  the  first  time  we 
had  ever  heard  Mr.  Kerr's  cognomen  al- 
luded to,  in  connection  with  Tarn  O'Shan- 
ter,  we  expressed  considerable  surprise, 
and  stated  that  he  undoubtedly  must  have 
made  a  mistake  in  the  name.  "It  may 
be  sae,  but  its  a  point  easily  sattled,"  said 
he,  raxing  down  a  copy  of  Burns  from 
the  shelf.  With  "  spectacles  on  nose," 
he  turned  up  the  poem  in  question.  "Ay, 
ay,"  said  he,  in  an  exulting  tone,  "  I 
thocht  I  was  na  that  far  wrang — 

"  Care  mad  to  see  a  man  sae  happy, 
E'n  drowned  himself  amang  the  happy." 

Now,  I  kent  twa  or  three   o'   the   Kerr's 


77 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  17. 


that  leev't  in  the  town-head,  but  I  never 
could  fin'  out  whilk  o'  them  Burns  had  in 
his  e'e  when  he  wrote  the  poem."* 

To  Thespian  ingenuity  we  are  under 
an  obligation  for  an  invention  of  great 
simplicity,  which  may  be  useful  on  many 
occasions,  particularly  to  literary  persons 
who  are  too  far  removed  from  the  press 
to  avail  themselves  of  its  advantages  in 
printing  short  articles  for  limited  distribu- 
tion. 


A  Dramatic  Printing  Apparatus. 
Itinerant  companies  of  co  edians  fre- 
quently print  their  play-bills  by  the  fol- 
lowing contrivance  :  The  form  of  letter  is 
placed  on  a  flat  support,  having  ledges  at 
each  side,  that  rise  within  about  a  thir- 
teenth of  an  inch  of  the  inked  surface  of 
the  letter.  The  damped  paper  is  laid 
upon  the  letter  so  disposed,  and  previously 
inked,  and  a  roller,  covered  with  woollen 
cloth,  is  passed  along  the  ledges  over  its 
surface ;  the  use  of  the  ledges  is  to  pre- 
vent the  roller  from  rising  in  too  obtuse 
an  angle  against  the  first  letters,  or  going 
off  too  abruptly  from  the  last,  which  would 
cause  the  paper  to  be  cut,  and  the  im- 
pression to  be  injured  at  the  beginning 
and  end  of  the  sheet.  The  roller  must 
be  passed  across  the  page,  for  if  it  moves 
in  the  order  of  the  lines,  the  paper  will 
bag  a  little  between  each,  and  the  impres- 
sion will  be  less  neat.^- 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  35  *  65. 

Sfanuarp  17. 

Snow,  fyc. 

On  the  16th  and  17th  of  January,  1809, 
Mr.  Howard  observed,  that  the  snow  ex- 
hibited the  beautiful  blue  and  pink  shades 
at  sunset  which  are  sometimes  observ- 
able, and  that  there  was  a  strong  evapora- 
tion from  its  surface.  A  circular  area,  of 
five  inches  diameter,  lost  150  grains  troy, 
from  sunset  on  the  15th  to  sunrise  next 
morning,  and  about  50  grains  more  by  the 
following  sunset;  the  gauge  being  exposed 
to  a  smart  breeze  on  the  house  top.  The 
curious  reader  may  hence  compute  for 
himself,  the  enormous  quantity  raised  in 
those  24  hours,  without  any  visible  lique- 

*  Ayr  Courier. 

f  Dr.  Aikin's  Athenaeum. 


faction,  from  an  acre  of  snow  :  the  effects 
of  the  load  thus  given  to  the  air  were  soon 
perceptible.  On  the  17th,  a  small  bril- 
liant meteor  descended  on  the  S.  E. 
horizon  about  6  p.  m.  On  the  18th, 
though  the  moon  was  still  conspicuous, 
the  horns  of  the  crescent  were  obtuse. 
On  the  1 9th  appeared  the  Cirrus  cloud, 
followed  by  the  Cirrostratus.  In  the 
afternoon  a  freezing  shower  from  the  east- 
ward glazed  the  windows,  encrusted  the 
walls,  and  encased  the  trees,  the  garments 
of  passengers,  and  the  very  plumage  of 
(he  birds  with  ice.  Birds  thus  disabled 
were  seen  lying  on  the  ground  in  great 
numbers  in  different  parts  of  the  country. 
Nineteen  rooks  were  taken  up  alive  by 
one  person  at  Castle  Eaton  Meadow, 
Wilts.  The  composition  of  this  frozen 
shower,  examined  on  a  sheet  of  paper, 
was  no  less  curious  than  these  effects.  It 
consisted  of  hollow  spherules  of  ice,  filled 
with  water ;  of  transparent  globules  ol 
hail ;  and  of  drops  of  water  at  the  point 
of  freezing,  which  became  solid  on  touch- 
ing the  bodies  they  fell  on.  The  ther- 
mometer exposed  from  the  window  indi- 
cated 30,5°.  This  was  at  Plaistow.  The 
shower  was  followed  by  a  moderate  fall 
of  snow.  From  this  time  to  the  24th, 
there  were  variable  winds  and  frequent 
falls  of  snow,  which  came  down  on  the 
22d  in  flakes  as  large  as  dollars,  with 
sleet  at  intervals.  On  the  24th  a  steady 
rain  from  W.  decided  for  a  thaw.  This 
and  the  following  night  proved  stormy : 
the  melted  snow  and  rain,  making  about 
two  inches  depth  of  water  on  the  level, 
descended  suddenly  by  the  rivers,  and  the 
country  was  inundated  to  a  greater  extent 
than  in  the  year  1795.  The  River  Lea 
continued  rising  the  whole  of  the  26th, 
remained  stationary  during  the  27th,  and 
returned  into  its  bed  in  the  course  of  the 
two  following  days.  The  various  chan 
nels  by  which  it  intersects  this  part  of  the 
country  were  united  in  one  current,  above 
a  mile  in  width,  which  flowed  with  great 
impetuosity,  and  did  much  damage.  From 
breaches  in  the  banks  and  mounds,  the 
different  levels,  as  they  are  termed,  of 
embanked  pasture  land,  were  filled  to  the 
depth  of  eight  or  nine  feet.  The  cattle, 
by  great  exertions,  were  preserved,  being 
mostly  in  the  stall ;  and  the  inhabitants, 
driven  to  their  upper  rooms,  were  relieved 
by  boats  plying  under  the  windows.  The 
Thames  was  so  full  during  this  time,  that 
no  tide  was  perceptible;  happily,  how- 
ever, its  bank  suffered  no  injury;  and  the 


79 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  17. 


80 


recession  of  the  water  from  the  levels  pro- 
ceeded with  little  interruption  till  the  23d 
of  February,  when  it  nearly  all  subsided. 
No  lives  were  lost  in  these  parts ;  but 
several  circumstances  concurred  to  render 
this  inundation  less  mischievous  than  it 
might  have  been,  from  the  great  depth  o. 
snow  on  the  country.  It  was  the  time  of 
neap  tide ;  the  wind  blew  strongly  from 
the  ivestward,  urging  the  water  down  the 
Thames ;  while  moonlight  nights,  and  a 
temperate  atmosphere,  were  favourable  to 
the  poor,  whose  habitations  were  filled 
with  water.  On  the  28th  appeared  a 
lunar  halo  of  the  largest  diameter.  On 
the  29th,  after  a  fine  morning,  the  wind 
began  to  blow  hard  from  the  south,  and 
during  the  whole  night  of  the  30th  it  raged 
with  excessive  violence  from  the  west, 
doing  considerable  damage.  The  baro- 
meter rose,  during  this  hurricane,  one- 
tenth  of  an  inch  per  hour.  The  remainder 
of  the  noon  was  stormy  and  wet,  and  it 


closed  with  squally  weather  ;  which,  with 
the  frequent  appearance  of  the  rainbow, 
indicated  the  approach  of  a  drier  atmo- 
sphere, a  change  on  few  occasions  within 
Mr.  Howard's  recollection  more  desirable. 
Numerous  inundations,  consequent  on 
the  thaw  of  the  24th,  appear  to  have  pre- 
vailed in  low  and  level  districts  all  along 
the  east  side  of  the  island :  but  in  no 
part  with  more  serious  destruction  of  pro- 
perty, public  works,  and  the  hopes  of  the 
husbandman,  than  in  the  fens  of  Cam- 
bridgeshire:  where,  by  some  accounts. 
60,000,  by  others  above  150,000  acres  of 
land,  were  laid  under  deep  water,  through 
an  extent  of  15  miles.  It  is  a  fact  worth 
preserving,  that  about  500  sacks  filled 
with  earth,  and  laid  on  the  banks  of  the 
Old  Bedford  river,  at  various  places, 
where  the  waters  were  then  flowing  over, 
proved  effectual  in  saving  that  part  of  the 
country  from  a  general  deluge. 


on 


at 


It's  a  custom  at  Highgate,  that  all  who  go  through, 
Must  be  sworn  on  the  horns,  sir  !  —  and  so,  sir,  must  you  ! 
Bring  the  horns  !     shut  the  door  !  —  now,  sir,  take  off  your  hat  !-• 
When  you  come  here  again,  don't  forget  to  mind  that  ! 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  17. 


"  Have  you  been  sworn  at  Highgate  ?" 
is  a  question  frequently  asked  in  every 
r>art  of  the  kingdom  ;  for,  that  such  a  cus- 
tom exists  in  this  village  is  known  far  and 
near,  though  many  who  inquire,  and  are 
asked,  remain  ignorant  of  the  ceremony. 
As  the  practice  is  declining,  diligence  has 
been  exercised  to  procure  information  on 
the  spot,  and  from  every  probable  source, 
concerning  this  remarkable  usage. 

The  village  of  Highgate  take  its  name 
from  the  gate  across  the  public  road  into 
London,  opposite  the  chapel,  which  is 
sometimes  erroneously  called  the  church, 
for  it  is,  in  fact,  only  a  chapel  of  ease  to 
Hornsey  church.  This  road  runs  through 
land  belonging  to  the  bishopric  of  Lon- 
don, and  was  made,  by  permission  of  the 
bishop  in  former  times,  probably  when  the 
whole  of  this  spot,  and. the  circumjacent 
country,  was  covered  with  wood,  and  part 
of  the  great  forest  of  Middlesex,  which, 
according  to  Matthew  Paris,  was  infested 
by  wolves,  stags,  boars,  and  other  wild 
beasts,  besides  robbers.  This  gate,  from 
being  on  the  great  northern  eminence  to- 
wards London,  was  called  the  A/j^A-gate  ; 
as  the  land  became  cleared  of  wood,  houses 
arose  near  the  spot,  and  hence  the  village 
now  called  Highgate.  It  seems  probable, 
that  the  first  dwelling  erected  here  was 
the  gate-house.  The  occupier  of  the  inn 
of  that  name  holds  it  under  a  lease  from 
the  bishop,  under  which  lease  he  also 
farms  the  bishop's  toll.  In  the  year  1 769 
the  old  gate-house,  which  extended  over 
the  road,  was  taken  down,  and  the  present 
common  turnpike-gate  put  up.  So  much, 
then,  concerning  Highgate,  as  introduc- 
tory to  the  custom  about  to  he  related. 

"  Swearing  on  the  horns,"  which  now 
is  "  a  custom  more  honoured  in  the  breach 
than  in  the  observance,"  prevailed  at 
Highgate  as  a  continual  popular  amuse- 
ment and  private  annoyance.  An  old  and 
respectable  inhabitant  of  the  village  says, 
that  sixty  years  ago  upwards  of  eighty 
stages  stopped  every  day  at  the  Red  Lion, 
and  that  out  of  every  five  passengers  three 
were  sworn.  It  is  a  jocular  usage  of  the 
place,  from  beyond  the  memory  of  man, 
especially  encouraged  by  certain  of  the 
villagers,  to  the  private  advantage  of  pub- 
lic landlords.  On  the  drawing  up  of 
coaches  at  the  inn-doors,  particular  invi- 
tations were  given  to  the  company  to 
alight,  and  after  as  many  as  could  be  col- 
lected were  got  into  a  room  for  purposes  of 
refreshment,  the  subject  of  being  "  sworn 
at  Highgate"  was  introduced,  and  while 


a  little  artifice  easily  detected  who  had 
not  taken  the  oath,  some  perhaps  express- 
ed a  wish  to  submit  to  the  ceremony.  It 
often  happened  however,  that  before  these 
facts  could  be  ascertained  "the  horns" 
were  brought  in  by  the  landlord,  and  as 
soon  as  they  appeared,  enough  were  usually 
present  to  enforce  compliance.  "The 
horns,"  fixed  on  a  pole  of  about  five  feet 
in  height,  were  erected,  by  placing  the 
pole  upright  on  the  ground,  near  the 
person  to  be  sworn,  who  was  required 
to  take  off  his  hat,  and  all  present  having 
done  the  same,  the  landlord  then,  in  a  loud 
voice,  swore  in,  the  "  party  proponent." 
What  is  called  the  oath  is  traditional,  and 
varies  verbally  in  a  small  degree.  It  has 
been  taken  down  in  writing  from  the  lips 
of  different  persons  who  administer  it,  and 
after  a  careful  collation  of  the  different 
versions  the  following  may  be  depended  on 
as  correct. — The  landlord,  or  the  person 
appointed  by  him  to  "swear  in,"  pro- 
claims a'oud — 

"  Upstanding  and  uncovered  !  Si- 
lence!"  Then  he  addresses  himself  to 
the  person  he  swears  in,  thus  : — 

"  TAKE  NOTICE  what  I  now  say  unto 
you,  for  that  is  the  first  word  of  your 
oath — mind  that!  You  must  acknow- 
ledge me  to  be  your  adopted  Father,  I 
must  acknowledge  you  to  be  my  adopted 
son  (or  daughter.)  If  you  do  not  call  me 
father  you  forfeit  a  bottle  of  wine,  if  I  do 
not  call  you  son,  I  forfeit  the  same.  And 
now,  my  good  son,  if  you  are  travelling 
through  this  village  of  Highgate,  and  you 
have  no  money  in  your  pocket,  go  call  for  • 
a  bottle  of  wine  at  any  house  you  think 
proper  to  go  into,  and  book  it  to  your  fa- 
ther's score.  If  you  have  any  friends  with 
you,  you  may  treat  them  as  well,  but  if 
you  have  money  of  your  own,  you  must 
pay  for  it  yourself.  For  you  must  not 
say  you  have  no  money  when  you  have, 
neither  must  you  convey  the  money  out 
of  your  own  pocket  into  your  friends' 
pockets,  for  I  shall  search  you  as  well  as 
them,  and  if  it  is  found  that  you  or  they 
have  money,  you  forfeit  a  bottle  of  wine' 
for  trying  to  cozen  and  cheat  your  poor 
old  ancient  father.  You  must  not  eat 
brown  bread  while  you  can  get  white,  ex- 
cept you  like  the  brown  the  best ;  you 
must  not  drink  small  beer  while  you  can 
get  strong,  except  you  like  the  small  the 
best.  You  must  not  kiss  the  maid  while  you 
can  kiss  the  mistress,  except  you  like  the 
maid  the  best,  but  sooner  than  lose  a 
good  chance  you  may  kiss  them  both. 


83 


THE  L\  EUY-DAY  EOOK.-JANUARY  17. 


And  now,  my  good  son,  fo:  a  word  or  two 
of  advice.  Keep  from  all  houses  of  ill 
repute,  and  every  place  of  public  resort 
for  bad  company,  Beware  of  false 
friends,  for  they  will  turn  to  be  your  foes, 
and  inveigle  you  into  houses  where  you 
may  lose  your  money  and  get  no  redress, 
Keep  from  thieves  of  every  denomination. 
And  now,  my  good  son,  I  wish  you  a  safe 
journey  through  Highgate  and  this  life. 
I  charge  you,  my  good  son,  that  if  you 
know  any  in  this  company  who  have  not 
taken  this  oath,  you  must  cause  them  to 
take  it,  or  make  each  of  them  forfeit  a 
bottle  of  wine,  for  if  you  fail  to  do  so  you 
wLl  forfeit  a  bottle  of  wine  yourself.  So 
now,  my  son,  God  bless  you !  Kiss  the 
horns  or  a  pretty  girl  if  you  see  one  here, 
which  you  like  best,  and  so  be  free  of 
Highgate  !" 

If  a  female  be  in  the  room  she  is  usually 
saluted,  if  not,  the  horns  must  be  kissed : 
the  option  was  not  allowed  formerly.  As 
soon  as  the  salutation  is  over  the  swearer- 
in  commands  "  silence  V  and  then  ad- 
dressing himself  to  his  new-made  "  son," 
he  says,  "I  have  now  to  acquaint  you 
with  your  privilege  as  a  freeman  of  this 
place.  If  at  any  time  you  are  going 
through  Highgate  and  want  to  rest  your- 
self, and  you  see  a  pig  lying  in  a  ditch  you 
have  liberty  to  kick  her  out  and  take  her 
place;  but  if  you  see  three  lying  together 
you  must  only  kick  out  the  middle  one 
and  lie  between  the  other  two  !  God 
save  the  kgig  !"  This  important  privi- 
Jege  of  the  freemen  of  Highgate  was  first 
discovered  by  one  Joyce  a  blacksmith, 
who  a  few  years  ago  kept  the  Coach  and 
Horses,  and  subjoined  the  agreeable  in- 
formation to  those  whom  "  he  swore  in." 

When  the  situation  of  things  and  per- 
sons seems  to  require  it,  the  "  bottle  of 
wine"  is  sometimes  compounded  for  by  a 
modus  of  sundry  glasses  of  "  grog,"  and  in 
many  cases  a  pot  of  porter. 

There  is  one  circumstance  essential  for 
a  freeman  of  Highgate  to  remember,  and 
"  that  is  the  first  word  of  his  oath, — mind 
that  .'"  If  he  fail  to  recollect  that,  he  is 
subject  to  be  resworn  from  time  to  time, 
and  so  often,  until  he  remember  that.  He 
is  therefore  never  to  forget  the  injunction 
before  he  swears,  to  take  notice  what  is 
said,  "  for  that  is  the  first  word  of  your 
oath — mind  that  /"  Failure  of  memory 
is  deemed  want  of  comprehension,  which 
is  no  plea  in  the  high  court  of  Highgate 


"  mind  that  /"   That  is,  that  that  "  that," 
is  "  that" 


There  is  no  other  formality  in  the  ad- 
ministration or  taking  of  this  oath,  than 
what  is  already  described  ;  and  the  only 
other  requisite  for  "  a  stranger  in  High" 
gate"  to  be  told,  is,  that  now  in  the  year 
1826,  there  are  nineteen  licensed  houses 
in  this  village,  and  that  at  each  of  these 
houses  the  "  horns"  are  kept,  and  the  oath 
administered  by  the  landlord  or  his 
deputy. 

To  note  the  capabilities  of  each  house, 
their  signs  are  here  enumerated,  with  the 
quality  of  horns  possessed  by  each. 

1.  THE  GATE-HOUSE  is  taken  first  in 
order,  as  being  best  entitled  to  priority, 
because  it  has  the  most  respectable  ac- 
commodation in  Highgate.     Besides  the 
usual  conveniences  of  stabling  and  beds, 
it  has  a  coffee-room,  and  private  rooms 
for  parties,  and  a  good  assembly-room. 
The  horns  there  are  Stag's. 

2.  Mitre,  has  Stag's  horns. 

3.  Green  Dragon,  Stag's  horns. 

4.  Red  Lion  and  Sun,  Bullock's  horns. 
The  late  husband  of  Mrs.  Southo,  the 

present  intelligent  landlady  of  this  house, 
still  lives  in  the  recollection  of  many 
inhabitants,  as  having  been  a  most  face- 
tious swearer  in. 

5.  Bell,  Stag's  horns.    This  house  now 
only  known  as  the  sign  of  the  "  Bell," 
was  formerly  called  the  "  Bell  and  Horns." 
About  fifty  years  ago,  it  was  kept  by  one 
Anderson,  who  had  his  "  horns"  over  his 
door,  to  denote  that  persons  were  sworn 
there    as    well    as    at  the    Gate-house. 
Wright,  the  then  landlord  of  the  "  Red 
Lion  and  Sun,"  determined  not  to  be 
outrivalled,  and  hung  out  a  pair  of  bul- 
lock's horns   so  enormous  in   size,   and 
otherwise  so  conspicuous,  as  to  eclipse 
the  "  Bell  and  Horns ;"  at  last,  all  the 
public  houses  in  the  village  got  "  horns," 
and  swore  in.     It  is  within  recollection 
that  every  house    in  Highgate  had  "  the 
horns"  at  the  door  as  a  permanent  sign. 

6.  Coach  and  Horses,     .      Ram's  horns. 

7.  Castle, Ram's  horns. 

8.  Red  Lion,     ....     Ram's  horns. 

9.  Wrestler's,      ....     Stag's  horns. 

10.  Bull, Stag's  horns. 

11.  Lord  Nelson,      .     .     .     Stag's  horns. 

12.  Duke  of  Wellington,    .    Stag's  horns. 
This  house  is  at  the  bottom  of  Highgate 

Hill,  towards  Finchley,  in  the  angle 
formed  by  the  intersection  of  the  old  road 


85 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-- JANUARY  17. 


86 


over  the  hill,  and  the  road  through  the 
archway  to  Holloway.  It  therefore  com- 
mands the  Highgate  entrance  into  Lon- 
don, and  the  landlord  avails  himself  of 
his  "  eminence"  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  by 
proffering  his  "  horns"  to  all  who  desire 
to  be  free  of  Highgate. 

13.  Crown,       .       Stag's  herns.     This  is 
the  first  public  house  in  Highgate  coming 
from  Holloway.         i 

14.  Duke's  Head,     .      .       Stag's  horns. 

15.  Cooper's  Arms,     .      .     Ram's  horns. 

16.  Rose  and  Crown,       .       Stag's  horns. 

17.  Angel,     ....      .*    Stag's  horns. 

18.  Flask, Ram's  horns. 

This  old  house  is  now  shut  up.     It  is 

at  the  top  of  Highgate  Hill,  close  by  the 
pond,  which  was  formed  there  by  a  hermit, 
who  caused  gravel  to  be  excavated  for  the 
making  of  the  road  from  Highgate  to 
Islington,  through  Holloway.  Of  this 
labour  old  Fuller  speaks,  he  calls  it  a 
"  t*,vo-handed  charity,  providing  water  on 
the  hill  where  it  was  wanting,  and  cleanli- 
ness in  the  valley  which  before,  especially 
in  winter,  was  passed  with  difficulty." 

19.  Fox  and  Crown  .  Ram's  Horns. 
This  house,  commonly  called  the  "  Fox  v 
and  the  "  Fox  under  the  Hill,"  is  nearly 
at  the  top  of  the  road  from  Kentish  Town 
to  Highgate,  and  though  not  the  most 
remarked  perhaps,  is  certainly  the  most 
remarkable  house  for  "  swearing  on  the 
horns."  Guiver,  the  present  landlord, 
(January  1826)  came  to  the  house  about 
Michaelmas  1824,  and  many  called 
upon  him  to  be  sworn  in ;  not  having 
practised  he  was  unqualified  to  indulge 
the  requisitionists,  and  very  soon  finding, 
that  much  of  the  custom  of  his  house  de- 
pended on  the  "custom  of  Highgate,"  and 
imagining  that  he  had  lost  something  by 
his  indifference  to  the  usage,  he  boldly 
determined  to  obtain  "  indemnity  for  the 
past,  and  security  for  the  future."  There- 
upon he  procured  habiliments,  and  an 
assistant,  and  he  is  now  an  office-bearer 
as  regards  the  aforesaid  "manner"  of  High- 
gate,  and  exercises  his  faculties  so  as  to 
dignify  the  custom.  Robed  in  a  domino 
with  a  wig  and  mask,  and  a  book  wherein 
is  written  the  oath,  he  recites  it  in  this 
costume  as  he  reads  it  through  a  pair  of 
spectacles.  The  staff  with  "  the  horns"  is 
held  by  an  old  villager  who  acts  as  clerk, 
and  at  every  full  stop,  calls  aloud, 
"  Amen  !"  This  performance  furnishes 
the  representation  of  the  present  engrav- 
ing from  a  sketch  by  Mr.  George  Cruik- 
shank.  He  has  waggishly  misrepresented 


one  of  the  figures,  which  not  being  tha 
landlord,  who  is  the  most  important  cha- 
racter, no  way  affects  the  general  fidelity 
of  the  scenes  sometimes  exhibited  m  the 
parlour  of  the  Fox  and  Crown. 

It  is  not  uncommon  for  females  to  be 
"sworn  at  Highgate."  On  such  occa- 
sions the  word  "  daughter"  is  substituted 
for  "son,"  and  other  suitable  alterations 
are  made  in  the  formality.  Anciently  there 
was  a  register  kept  at  the  gate-house, 
wherein  persons  enrolled  their  names 
when  sworn  there,  but  the  book  unac- 
countably disappeared  many  years  ago.1 — 
Query.  Is  it  in  Mr.  Upcott's  collection  of 
autographs  ? 

There  seems  to  be  little  doubt,  that  the 
usage  first  obtained  at  the  Gate-house ; 
where,  as  well  as  in  other  public  houses, 
though  not  in  all,  at  this  time,  deputies 
are  employed  to  swear  in.  An  old  inha- 
bitant, who  formerly  kept  a  licensed 
house,  says,  "  In  my  time  nobody  came 
to  Highgate  in  any  thing  of  a  carriage, 
without  being  called  upon  to  be  sworn  in. 
There  was  so  much  doing  in  this  way  at 
one  period,  that  I  was  obliged  to  hire  a 
man  as  a  '  swearer-in  :'  I  have  sworn  in 
from  a  hundred  to  a  hundred  and  twenty 
in  a  day.  Bodies  of  tailors  used  to  come 
up  here  from  town,  bringing  five  or  six 
new  shopmates  with  them  to  be  sworn ; 
and  I  have  repeatedly  had  parties  of  la- 
dies and  gentlemen  in  private  carriages 
come  up  purposely  to  be  made  free  of 
Highgate  in  the  same  way." 

Officers  of  the  guards  and  other  regi- 
ments repeatedly  came  to  the  Gate-house 
and  called  for  "  the  horns."  Dinner  parties 
were  formed  there  for  the  purpose  of  ini- 
tiating strangers,  and  as  pre-requisite  for 
admission  to  sundry  convivial  societies, 
now  no  more,  the  freedom  of  Highgate 
was  indispensable. 

Concerning  the  origin  of  this, custom, 
there  are  two  or  three  stories.  One  is, 
that  it  was  devised  by  a  landlord,  who  had 
lost  his  licence,  as  a  means  of  covering 
the  sale  of  his  liquors ;  to  this  there  seems 
no  ground  of  credit. 

Another,  and  a  probable  account,  is,  to 
this  effect — That  Highgate  being  the  place 
nearest  to  London  where  cattle  rested  on 
their  way  from  the  north  for  sale  in  Smith- 
field,  certain  graziers  were  accustomed  to 
put  up  at  the  Gate-house  for  the  night, 
but  as  they  could  not  wholly  exclude 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  18. 


stnmjers,  who  like  themselves  were  tra- 
velling on  their  business,  they  brought  an 
ox  to  the  deer,  and  those  who  did  not 
choose  to  kiss  its  horns,  after  going 
through  the  ceiemony  described,  were  not 
deemed  fit  members  of  their  society. 

It  is  imagined  by  some,  because  it  is  so 
stated  in  a  modern  book  or  two  as  likely, 
that  the  horns  were  adopted  to  swear 
this  whimsical  oath  upon,  because  it  was 
tendered  at  the  parish  ofHorns-ey,  where- 
in Highgate  is  situated. 

The  reader  may  choose  either  of  these 
origins  ;  he  has  before  him  all  that  can  be 
known  upon  the  subject. 


An  anecdote  related  by  Mrs.  Southo  of 
the  Red  Lion  and  Sun,  may,  or  may  not, 
be  illustrative  of  this  custom.  She  is  a 
native  of  Hoddesdon  in  Hertfordshire, 
where  her  father  kept  the  Griffin,  and  she 
says,  that  when  any  fresh  waggoner  came 
to  that  house  with  his  team,  a  drinking 
horn,  holding  about  a  pint,  fixed  on  a 
stand  made  of  four  rams'  horns,  was 
brought  out  of  the  house,  and  elevated 
above  his  head,  and  he  was  compelled  to 
pay  a  gallon  of  beer,  and  to  drink  out  of 
the  horn.  She  never  heard  how  the  usage 
originated  ;  it  had  been  observed,  and 
the  stand  of  rams'  horns  had  been  in  the 
nouse,  from  time  immemorial. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  35  •  52. 


18. 

St.  Priscian. 
In  the  church  of  England  calendar. 

OLD  TWELFTH  DAY. 

This  is  still  observed  in  some  parts  of 
England 

Don  Sebastian. 

In  default  of  holiday  making  by  the 
editor,  who  during  the  Christmas  season 
has  been  employed  in  finishing  the 
index  es,which  will  be  in  the  readers' hands 
in  tew  days  to  enable  them  to  complete 
tl  e  "»rst  volume  of  this  work,  he  has  now 
a>id  then  turned  to  his  collections  to  re- 
li  n  e  the  wearisomeness  of  his  occupation, 
ind  finding  the  following  anecdote  in 

The  Times"  of  Dec.  1825,  he  subjoins 


from  his  stores  an  illustration  of  the 
curious  fact  it  relates  to.  "  It  may  be 
mentioned,"  The  Times  says,  "  as  a  sin- 
gular species  of  infatuation,  that  many 
Portuguese  residing  in  Brazil  as  well  as 
Portugal,  still  believe  in  the  coming  of 
Sebastian,  the  romantic  king,  who  was 
killed  in  Africa  about  the  year  1578,  in  a 
pitched  battle  with  the  emperor  Muley 
Moluc.  Some  of  these  old  visionaries 
will  go  out,  wrapped  in  their  large  cloaks, 
on  a  windy  night,  to  watch  the  move- 
ments of  the  heavens,  and  frequently,  if 
an  exhalation  is  seen  flitting  in  the  air, 
resembling  a  falling  star,  they  will  cry 
out,  "  there  he  comes  !"  Sales  of  horses 
and  other  things  are  sometimes  effected, 
payable  at  the  coming  of  king  Sebastian. 
It  was  this  fact  that  induced  Junot,  when 
asked  what  he  would  be  able  to  do  with 
the  Portuguese,  to  answer,  what  can  I  do 
with  a  people  who  are  still  waiting  for 
the  coming  of  the  Messiah  and  king  Se- 
bastian ?" 

This  superstitious  belief  is  mentioned 
in  a  MS.  Journal  of  a  Residence  at  Lis- 
bon in  1814,  written  by  an  individual 
personally  known  to  the  editor,  who  ex- 
tracts from  the  narrative  as  follows  : — 

•It  is  the  daily  practice  at  Lisbon  for 
the  master  of  the  family  to  cater  for  the 
wants  of  his  table  himself.  According  to 
ancient  usage,  he  must  either  employ  and 
pay  a  porter  to  carry  home  his  purchases 
at  market,  or  send  a  servant  for  them.  A 
certain  doctor,  well  known  to  be  a  lover 
of  fish,  and  an  enthusiastic  expectant  of 
Don  Sebastian,  was  watched  several  days 
in  the  fish  market  by  some  knavish  youths, 
who  contrived  a  trick  upon  him.  One 
morning,  they  observed  him  very  intent 
upon  a  fine  large  fish,  yet  disagreeing 
with  the  fishmonger  as  to  its  price.  One 
of  these  knaves  managed  to  inform  the 
man,  if  he  would  let  the  doctor  have  the 
fish  at  his  own  price  he  would  pay  the 
difference,  and  the  fishmonger  soon  con- 
cluded the  bargain  with  the  doctor.  As 
soon  as  he  was  gone,  one  of  the  party, 
without  the  fishmonger's  knowledge,  in- 
sinuated down  the  fish's  throat  a  scroll  of 
parchment  curiously  packed,  and  shortly 
afterwards,  the  doctor's  servant  arrived 
for  his  master's  purchase.  On  opening 
the  fish,  in  order  to  its  being  cooked,  the 
parchment  deposit  was  found,  and  the 
credulous  man,  to  his  astonishment  and 
delight,  read  as  follows  : — 

"Worthy  and  well-beloved  Signor 

,  respected  by  the  saints  and  now 


THE  EVKRY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  19. 


90 


revered  by  men.  From  our  long  observ- 
ation of  thine  heart's  integrity,  and  in 
full  knowledge  of  thy  faith  and  firm  be- 
lief, thou  art  selected  as  the  happy  instru- 
ment of  our  return ;  but  know,  most 
worthy  Signer,  the  idea  of  a  white 
horse  in  clouds  of  air,  is  a  mere  fable 
invented  by  weak  men.  It  will  be  fai 
otherwise,  but  be  thou  circumspect  and 
secret,  and  to  thee  these  things  will  be 
explained  hereafter.  Know,  that  by  the 
element  of  water,  by  which  we  make  this 
known,  we  shall  return.  Not  far  from 
Fort  St.  Juliana  is  a  spot  thou  knowest 
well,  a  smooth  declivity  towards  the  sea ; 
it  is  there  we  first  shall  touch  the  shore 
of  our  loved  Portugal  to-morrow's  night 
at  twelve.  Be  thou  there  alone,  and 
softly  gliding  on  the  water's  surface  a 
small  boat  shall  appear.  Be  silent  and  re- 
main quiet  on  our  appearance, for  until  we 
can  join  our  prayers  with  thine  thou  must 
not  speak ;  load  not  thyself  with  coin,  for 
soon  as  dawn  appears  a  troop  of  goodly 
horse  from  Cintra's  Road  will  rise  upon 
thy  view.  But  be  not  destitute  of  where- 
with to  bear  thine  expense.  All  thy  future 
life  shall  be  thy  prince's  care. 

"SEBASTIAN." 


The  trick  succeeded  ;  for  the  next  day 
the  doctor  left  Lisbon  as  privately  as  pos- 
sible, while  his  trepanners  who  had  watch- 
ed him  quickly  followed,  two  in  a  boat 
hired  for  the  purpose,  and  two  on  shore, 
to  make  a  signal.  The  boat  arrived  at 
the  appointed  hour,  and  the  doctor  ex- 
pected nothing  less  than  the  landing  of 
the  long  expected  and  well-beloved  Sebas- 
tian. It  reached  the  shore,  and  by  those 
who  stepped  out  and  their  confederates 
concealed  on  the  beach,  the  doctor  was 
eased  of  some  doubloons  he  had  with 
him,  received  a  cool  dip  in  the  water,  and 
was  left  on  the  beach  to  bewail  his  folly. 
The  story  soon  got  wind,  and  now  (in 
1814)  there  are  wags  who,  when  they 
observe  the  doctor  coming,  affect  to  see 
something  in  the  sky ;  this  hint  con- 
cerning Don  Sebastian's  appearance  is 
usually  intimated  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
doctor's  cane. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  36  •  12. 


Sanuarp  19. 

Feast  of  Lanthorns. 

This  is  a  festival  with  the  Chinese  on 
the  fifteenth  day  of  the  first  month  of  their 
year.  It  is  so  called  from  the  great  num- 
ber of  lanthorns  hung  out  of  the  houses, 
and  in  the  streets ;  insomuch  that  it  ra- 
ther appears  a  season  of  madness,  than  of 
feasting.  On  this  day  are  exposed  lant- 
horns of  all  prices,  whereof  some  are  said 
to  cost  two  thousand  crowns.  Some  of 
their  grandees  retrench  somewhat  every 
dr.y  out  of  their  table,  their  dress,  their 
equipage,  &c.  to  appear  the  more  magni- 
ficent in  lanthorns.  They  are  adorned  with 
gilding,  sculpture,  painting,  japanning, 
&c.  and  as  to  their  size,  it  is  extravagant ; 
some  are  from  twenty-five  to  thirty  feet 
diameter;  they  represent  halls  and  cham- 
bers. Two  or  three  such  machines  toge- 
ther would  make  handsome  houses.  In 
lanthorns  of  these  dimensions  the  Chinese 
are  able  to  eat,  lodge,  receive  visits,  have 
balls,  and  act  plays.  The  great  multi- 
tude of  smaller  lanthorns  usually  consist 
of  six  faces  or  lights,  each  about  four  feet 
high,  and  one  and  a  half  broad,  framed 
in  wood  finely  gilt  and  adorned;  over 
these  are  stretched  a  fine  transparent  silk, 
curiously  painted  with  flowers,  trees,  and 
sometimes  human  figures.  The  colours 
are  extremely  bright;  and  when  the 
torches  are  lighted,  they  appear  highly 
beautiful  and  surprising. 


'French  Lark  Shooting. 

To  the  gentleman  whose  letter  from 
Abbeville,  descriptive  of  "  Wild  fowl 
shooting  in  France,"  is  on  p.  1575  of 
vol.  I.,  the  editor  is  indebted  for  another 
on  "  Lark  shooting,"  which  is  successfully 
practised  there  by  a  singular  device  un- 
known to  sportsmen  in  this  country.* 


*  To  his  former  letter  J.  J.  H.  are  printed  as 
in'.tiaL  by  mistake,  inctcad  of  J.  H.  H. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  ROOK.— JANUARY  19. 


Boating  m  Jfrawe 


As  far-off  islanders, 


Innocent  of  trade,  unskilled  in  commerce, 
To  whom  a  glass  or  toy  unknown  before 
Is  wonderful,  give  freely,  flocks  and  fruits 
To  gain  mere  baubles ;  so,  these  silly  birds 
Attracted  by  the  glisten  of  the  twirler, 
Hover  above  the  passing  strange  decoy, 
Intent  to  gaze,  and  fall  the  gunnel's  prey. 

Abbeville. 
Dear  Sir, 
If  I  do  not  send  you  your   wished   for 


Partridge  and  quail  shooting  cease  in 
this  delightful  part  of  the  world  about  the 
middle  of  October,  for  by  that  time  the 


wood  cuts  I  at  least  keep  my  promise  of    partridges  are  so  very  wild  and  wary  that 


letting  you  hear  from  me.     I  told  you  in 
my  last  you  should  have  something  about 


there  is  no  getting  near  them.     The  rea- 
son of  this  is,  that  our  fields  here  are  all 


our  krk-shooting,  and  so  you  shall,  and     open  without  either  hedge  or   ditch,  and 


at  this  time  too ;  though  I  assure  you 
writing  flying  as  I  almost  do,  is  by  no 
means  so  agreeable  to  me  as  snooting  fly- 
ing, which  is  the  finest  sport  imaginable. 
When  I  come  home  I  will  tell  you  all 


when  the  corn  and  hemp  are  off,  the  stub- 
ble is  pulled  up  so  close  by  the  poor  peo- 
ple for  fuel,  that  there  is  no  cover  for  par- 
tridges ;  as  to  the  quails,  they  are  all 
either  "  killed  off,"  or  take  their  depar- 


about  it,  for  the  present  I  can  only   ac-     ture  for  a  wilder  climate  ;  and  then  there 


luaint  you  with  enough  to    let 


qu 

the  secret  of  the  enjoyment  that 


rou  into 
should 

always  find  in  France,  if  I  had  no  other 
attraction  to  the  country.  I  must  "  level" 
at  once,  for  I  have  no  time  to  spare,  and 
so  "  here  goes,"  as  the  boy  says. 


is  nothing  left  for  the  French  gentry  to 
amuse  themselves  with  but  lark-shooting. 
These  birds  are  attracted  to  any  given 
spot  in  great  numbers  by  a  singular  con- 
trivance, called  a  miroir.  This  is  a  small 
machine,  made  of  a  piece  of  mahogany, 


93 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY    20. 


94 


shaped  like  a  chapeau  bras,  and  highly 
polished  ;  or  else  it  is  made  of  common 
wood,  inlaid  with  small  bits  of  looking 
glass,  so  as  to  reflect  the  suns  rays  up- 
wards. It  is  fixed  on  the  top  of  a  thin 
iron  rod,  or  upright  spindle,  dropped 
through  an  iron  loop  or  ring  attached  to 
a  piece  of  wood,  to  drive  into  the  ground 
as  here  represented. 


By  pulling  a  string  fastened  to  the 
spindle,  the  miroir  twirls,  and  the  reflect- 
ed light  unaccountably  attracts  the  larks, 
who  hover  over  it,  and  become  a  mark  for 
the  sportsman.  In  this  way  I  have  had 
capital  sport.  A  friend  of  mine  actually 
shot  six  dozen  before  breakfast.  While  he 
sat  on  the  ground  he  pulled  the  twirler 
himself,  and  his  dogs  fetched  the  birds  as 
they  dropped.  However,  I  go  on  in  the 
common  way,  and  employ  a  boy  to  work 
the  twirler.  Ladies  often  partake  in  the 
amusement  on  a  cold  dry  morning,  not  by 
shooting  but  by  watching  the  sport.  So 
many  as  ten  or  a  dozen  parties  are  some- 
times out  together,  firing  at  a  distance  of 
about  five  hundred  yards  apart,  and  in 
this  way  the  larks  are  constantly  kept  on 
the  wing.  The  most  favourable  mornings 
are  when  there  is  a  gentle  light  frost,  with 
little  or  no  wind,  and  a  clear  sky — for 
when  there  are  clouds  the  larks  will  not 
approach.  One  would  think  the  birds 
themselves  enjoyed  their  destruction,  for 
the  fascination  of  the  twirler  is  so  strong, 
as  to  rob  them  of  the  usual  "  fruits  of  ex- 
perience." After  being  fired  at  several 
times  they  return  to  the  twirler,  and  form 
again  into  groupes  above  it.  Some  of 
them  even  fly  down  and  settle  on  the 
ground,  within  a  yard  or  two  of  the  as- 
tonishing instrument,  looking  at  it  "this 


way  and  that  way,  and  all  ways  together," 
as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

Larks  in  France  fetch  from  three  to  four 
sous  a  piece.  In  winter,  however,  when 
they  are  plentiful,  they  are  seldom  eaten, 
because  here  they  are  always  dressed  with 
the  trail,  like  snipes  and  woodcocks ;  but 
for  this  mode  of  cooking  they  are  not  fit- 
ted  when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground, 
because  they  are  then  driven  to  eat  turnip- 
tops,  and  other  watery  herbs,  which  com- 
municate an  unpleasant  flavourto  the  trail. 
Were  you  here  at  the  season,  to  eat  larks  in 
their  perfection,  and  dressed  as  we  dress 
them,  I  think  your  praise  of  the  cooking 
would  give  me  the  laugh  against  you,  if 
you  ever  afterwards  ventured  to  declaim 
against  the  use  of  the  gun,  which,  next  to 
my  pencil,  is  my  greatest  hobby.  I  send 
you  a  sketch  of  the  sport,  with  the  boy  at 
the  twirler — do  what  you  like  with  it. 

I  rather  think  I  did  not  tell  you  in  my 
last,  that  the  decoy  ducks,  used  in  wild- 
fowl shooting,  are  made  of  wood — >any 
stump  near  at  hand  is  hacked  out  any 
how  for  the  body,  while  a  small  limb  of 
any  tree  is  thrust  into  the  stump  for  the 
duck's  neck,  and  one  of  the  side  branches 
left  short  makes  his  head.  These  ducks 
answer  the  purpose  with  their  living  pro- 
totypes, who  fly  by  moonlight,  and  have 
not  a  perfect  view,  and  don't  stay  for  dis- 
tinctions, like  philosophers. 

It  will  not  be  long  before  I'm  off  for 
England,  and  then,  &c. 

I  am,  &c. 

J.  H.  H. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  37*02. 

Sfanuarp  20. 

Fabian. 
In  the  church  of  England  calendar.* 

DEDICATION. 

The  dedication  of  each  day  in  the  year, 
by  the  Romish  church,  in  honour  of  a 
saint,  which  converts  every  day  into  a  fes- 
tival, is  a  fact  pretty  well  known  to  the 
readers  of  the  Every-Day  Book.  It  is 
also  generally  known,  that  in  certain  al- 
manacs every  part  of  the  human  body  is 
distributed  among  the  days  throughout 
the  year,  as  subjects  of  diurnal  influence ; 
but  it  is  not  perhaps  so  well  known,  that 

*  See  vol.  i.  p.  135. 


95 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK —JANUARY  2i. 


every  joint  of  each  finger  on  each  hand 
was  appropriated  to  some  saint.  The 
proof  of  this  is  supplied  by  two  very  old 
prints,  from  engravings  on  wood,  at  the 
British  Museum.  They  are  among  a  col- 
lection of  ancient  wood  cuts  pasted  in  a 
folio  volume.  It  would  occupy  too  much 
room  to  give  copies  of  these  representa- 
tions in  fac-simile  :  the  curiously  inclined, 
who  have  access  to  the  Museum  print- 
room,  may  consult  the  originals ;  general 
readers  may  be  satisfied  with  the  follow, 
ing  description  :— 

Right  Hand. 

The  top  joint  of  the  thumb  is  dedicated 
to  GOD  ;  the  second  joint  to  the  Virgin ; 
the  top  joint  of  \heforefinger  to  Barna- 
bas, the  second  joint  to  John,  the  third 
to  Paul;  the  top  joint  of  the  second  fin- 
ger to  Simeon  Cleophas,  the  second 
joint  to  Tathideo,  the  third  to  Joseph ; 
the  top  joint  of  the  third  finger  to  Zac- 
cheus,  the  second  to  Stephen,  the  third  to 
Luke ;  the  top  joint  of  the  little  finger 
to  Leatus,  the  second  to  Mark,  the  third 
joint  to  Nicodemus. 

Left  Hand. 

The  top  joint  of  the  thumb  is  dedicated 
to  Christ,  the  second  joint  to  the  Virgin; 
the  top  joint  of  the  fore  finger  to  St. 
James,  the  second  to  St.  John  the  evange- 
list, the  third  to  St.  Peter  ;  the  first  joint 
of  the  second  finger  to  St.  Simon,  the  se- 
cond joint  to  St.  Matthew,  the  third  to  St. 
James  the  great;  the  top  joint  of  the 
third  finger  to  St.  Jude,  the  second  joint 
to  St.  Bartholomew,  the  third  to  St.  An- 
drew; the  top  joint  of  the  little  finger  to 
St.  Matthias,  the  second  joint  to  St.  Tho- 
mas, the  third  joint  to  St.  Philip. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature ...  36  .  92. 

Sfanuarg  21. 

St.  Agnes. 

In  the  church  of  England  calendar.* 
How  to  sleep  well  in  cold  weather. 

Obtain  a  free  circulation  of  the  blood 
by  walking,  or  other  wholesome  exercise, 
so  as  to  procure  a  gentle  glow  over  the 
entire  surface  of  the  body.  Hasten  to 
your  chamber,  undress  yourself  quickly, 
and  jump  into  bed  without  suffering 
its  temperature  to  be  heightened  by  the 

*  See  vol.  i.  p.  141. 


machine  called  a  -warming-pan.  Your 
bed  will  be  warmed  by  your  own  heat, 
and  if  you  have  not  eaten  a  meat  supper, 
or  drank  spirits,  you  will  sleep  well  and 
warm  all  night.  Calico  sheets  are  adapted 
to  this  season — blankets  perhaps  are  bet- 
ter; but  as  they  absorb  perspiration  they 
should  be  washed  before  they  come  into 

use  with  sheets  in  summer  time. 

• 

Extraordinary  sleeper. 

Samuel  Clinton,  of  Timbury,  near  Bath, 
a  labouring  man,  about  twenty-five  years 
of  age,  had  frequently  slept,  without  inter- 
mission, for  several  weeks.  On  the  13th 
of  May,  1694,  he  fell  into  a  profound 
sleep,  out  of  which  he  could  by  no  means 
be  roused  by  those  about  him  ;  but  after 
a  month's  time,  he  rose  of  himself,  put  on 
his  clothes,  and  went  about  his  business 
as  usual.  From  that  time  to  the  9th  of 
April  following  he  remained  free  from 
any  extraordinary  drowsiness,  but  then 
fell  into  another  protracted  sleep.  His 
friends  were  prevailed  on  to  try  what  re- 
medies might  effect,  and  accordingly  he 
was  bled,  blistered,  cupped,  and  scarified, 
but  to  no  purpose.  In  this  manner  he 
lay  till  the  7th  of  August,  when  he  awak- 
ed, and  went  into  the  fields,  where  he 
found  people  busy  in  getting  in  the  har- 
vest, and  remembered  that  when  he  fell 
asleep  they  were  sowing  their  oats  and 
barley.  From  that  time  he  remained  well 
till  the  17th  of  August,  1697,  when  he 
complained  of  a  shivering,  and,  after  some 
disorder  of  the  stomach,  the  same  day  fell 
fast  asleep  again.  Dr.  Oliver  went  to  see 
him ;  he  was  then  in  an  agreeable  warmth, 
but  without  the  least  sign  of  his  being 
sensible  ;  the  doctor  then  held  a  phial  of 
sal-ammoniac  under  his  nose,  and  in- 
jected about  half  an  ounce  up  one  of  his 
nostrils,  but  it  only  made  his  nose  run 
and  his  eyelids  shiver  a  little.  The  doc- 
tor then  filled  his  nostrils  with  powder  of 
white  hellebore,  but  the  man  did  not  dis 
cover  the  least  uneasiness.  About  ten 
days  after,  the  apothecary  took  fourteen 
ounces  of  blood  from  his  arm  without  his 
making  the  least  motion  during  the  ope- 
ration. The  latter  end  of  September  Dr. 
Oliver  again  visited  him,  and  a  gentle- 
man present  ran  a  large  pin  into  his  arm 
to  the  bone,  but  he  gave  not  the  least  sign 
of  feeling.  In  this  manner  he  lay  till  the 
19th  of  November,  when  his  mother  hear- 
ing him  make  a  noise  ran  immediately  to 
him,  and  asked  him  how  he  did,  and  what 
^e  would  have  to  eat?  to  which  he  re- 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  22. 


plied,  "  very  well,  I  thank  you ;  I'll  take 
some  bread  and  cheese."  His  mother, 
overjoyed,  ran  to  acquaint  his  brother  that 
he  was  awake,  but  on  their  goiug  up  stairs 
they  found  him  as  fast  asleep  as  ever. 
Thus  he  continued  till  the  end  of  Janu- 
ary, at  which  time  he  awoke  perfectly  well 
and  very  little  altered  in  his  flesh,  and 
went  about  his  business  as  usual.* 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  37 


35. 


Sanuarp  22. 


St.   fincent. 
In  the  church  of  England  calendar.^ 


on  tfce 


The  Hyde-park  river — which  no  river  is, 

The  Serpentine — which  is  not  serpentine 
When  frozen,  every  skater  claims  as  his, 

In  right  of  common,  there  to  intertwine 
With  countless  crowds,  and  glide  upon  the  ice. 

Lining  the  banks,  the  timid  and  unwilling 
Stand  and  look  on,  while  some  the  fair  entice 

By  telling,  "  yonder  skaters  are  quadrilling" — 
And  here  the  skatelesshire  the  "  best  skates"  for  a  shilling. 


Vol..  11—56. 


Phil.  Tr*n«. 


t  See  vol.  i.  p.  15J. 


99 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  22. 


100 


A  hard  frost  is  a  season  of  holidays  in 
London.  The  scenes  exhibited  are  too 
agreeable  and  ludicrous  for  the  pen  to 
describe.  They  are  for  the  pencil;  and 
Mr.  Cruikshank's  is  the  only  one  equal 
to  the  series.  In  a  work  like  this  there 
is  no  room  for  their  display,  yet  he  has 
hastily  essayed  the  preceding  sketch  in  a 
short  hour.  It  is  proper  to  say,  that  how- 
ever gratifying  the  representation  may  be 
to  the  reader,  the  friendship  that  extorted 
it  is  not  ignorant  that  scarcely  a  tithe  of 
either  the  time  or  space  requisite  has 
been  afforded  Mr.  Cruikshank  for  the  sub- 
ject. It  conveys  some  notion  however  of 
part  of  the  doings  on  u  the  Serpentine  in 
Hyde-park"  when  the  thermometer  is 
below  "  freezing,"  and  every  drop  of  wa- 
ter depending  from  trees  and  eaves  be- 
comes solid,  and  hangs 

"  like  a  diamond  in  the  sky." 
The  ice-bound  Serpentine  is  the  resort  of 
every  one  who  knows  how  or  is  learning 
to  skate,  and  on  a  Sunday  its  broad  sur- 
face is  covered  with  gazers  who  have  "  as 
much  right"  to  be  on  it  as  skaters,  and 
therefore  "  stand"  upon  the  right  to  in- 
terrupt the  recreation  they  came  to  see. 
This  is  especially  the  case  on  a  Sunday. 
The  entire  of  this  canal  from  the  wall  of 
Kensington-gardens  to  the  extremity  at 
the  Knightsbridge  end  was,  on  Sunday 
the  15th  of  January,  1826,  literally 
a  mob  of  skaters  and  gazers.  At  one 
period  it  was  calculated  that  there  were 
not  less  than  a  hundred  thousand  persons 
upon  this  single  sheet  of  ice. 

The  coachmen  on  the  several  roads,  par- 
ticularly on  the  western  and  northern 
roads,  never  remembered  a  severer  frost 
than  they  experienced  on  the  Sunday 
night  just  mentioned.  Those  who  recol- 
lected that  of  1814,  when  the  Thames 
was  frozen  over,  and  booths  raised 
on  the  ice,  declared  that  they  did  not 
feel  it  so  severely,  as  it  did  not  come 
on  so  suddenly.  The  houses  and  trees  in 
the  country  had  a  singular  appearance  on 
the  Monday,  owing  to  the  combination  of 
frost  and  fog;  the  trees,  and  fronts  of 
houses,  and  even  the  glass  was  covered 
with  thick  white  frost,  and  was  no  more 
transparent  than  ground-glass. 

Butchers,  in  the  suburbs,  where  the  frost 
was  felt  more  keenly  than  in  the  metro- 
polis, were  obliged  to  keep  their  shops 
shut  in  order  to  keep  out  the  frost ;  many 
of  them  carried  the  meat  into  their  par- 
lours, and  kept  it  folded  up  in  cloths 


round  the  fires,  and  unfolded  it  as  their 
customers  came  in  and  required  it.  The 
market  gardeners  also  felt  the  severity  of 
the  weather — it  stopped  their  labours,  and 
some  of  the  men,  attended  by  their  wives, 
went  about  in  parties,  and  with  frosted 
greens  fixed  at  the  tops  of  rakes  and  hoes, 
uttered  the  ancient  cry  of  "  Pray  re- 
member the  gardeners !  Remember  the 
poor  frozen  out  gardeners  '."* 


The  Apparition. 

Twas  silence  all,  the  rising  moon 
With  clouds  had  veil'd  her  light, 

The  clock  struck  twelve,  when,  lo !  I  saw 
A  very  chilling  sight. 

Pale  as  a  snow-ball  was  its  face, 

Like  icicles  its  hair; 
For  mantle,  it  appeared  to  me 

A  sheet  of  ice  to  wear. 

Tho'  seldom  given  to  alarm, 

I'faith,  I'll  not  dissemble, 
My  teeth  all  chatter'd  in  my  head, 

And  every  joint  did  tremble. 

At  last,  I  cried,  "  Pray  who  are  you, 

And  whither  do  you  go  V 
Methought  the  phantom  thus  replied, 

*'  My  name  is  Sally  Snow ; 

"  My  father  is  the  Northern  Wind, 
My  mother's  name  was  Water ; 

Old  parson  Winter  married  them, 
And  I'm  their  hopeful  Daughter. 

"  I  have  a  lover — Jackey  Frost, 
My  dad  the  match  condemns ; 

I've  run  from  home  to-night  to  meet 
My  love  upon  the  Thames." 

I  stopp'd  Miss  Snow  in  her  discourse, 

This  answer  just  to  cast  in, 
"  I  hope,  if  John  and  you  unite, 

Your  union  wo'n't  be  lasting  ! 

"  Besides,  if  you  should  rnarry  him, 
But  ill  you'd  do,  that  I  know  ; 

For  surely  Jackey  Frost  must  be 
A  very  slippery  fellow." 

She  sat  her  down  before  the  fire, 

My  wonder  now  increases  ; 
For  she  I  took  to  be  a  maid, 

Then  tumbled  into  pieces ! 

For  air,  thin  air,  did  Hamlet's  ghost, 
His  foremost  cock-crow  barter  ; 

But  what  I  saw,  and  now  describe, 
Resolv'd  itself  to  water. 


*  Morning  Herald,  16th  January,  1826. 


101 


TEiE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  22. 


102 


GREAT  FROST,  1814. 

The  severest  and  most  remarkable 
frost  in  England  of  late  years,  commenced 
in  December,  1813,  and  generally 
called  "  the  Great  Frost  in  1814,''  was 
preceded  by  a  great  fog,  which  came  on 
with  the  evening  of  the  27th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1813.  It  is  described  as  a  darkness 
that  might  be  felt.  Cabinet  business  of 
great  importance  had  been  transacted, 
and  lord  Castlereagh  left  London  about 
two  hours  before,  to  embark  for  the  con- 
tinent. The  prince  regent,  (since  George 
IV.)  proceeding  towards  Hatfield  on  a 
visit  to  the  marquis  of  Salisbury,  was 
obliged  to  return  to  Carlton-house,  after 
being  absent  several  hours,  during  which 
period  the  carriages  had  not  reached  be- 
yond Kentish-town,  and  one  of  the  out- 
riders fell  into  a  ditch.  Mr.  Croker,  se- 
cretary of  the  admiralty,  on  a  visit  north- 
ward, wandered  likewise  several  hours  in 
making  a  progress  not  more  than  three  or 
four  miles,  and  was  likewise  compelled  to 
put  back.  It  was  "  darkness  that  might  be 
felt." 

On  most  of  the  roads,  excepting  the 
high  North-road,  travelling  was  performed 
with  the  utmost  danger,  and  the  mails 
were  greatly  impeded. 

On  the  28th,  the  Maidenhead  coach 
coming  to  London,  missed  the  road  near 
Hartford  bridge  and  was  overturned. 
Lord  Hawarden  was  among  the  passen- 
gers, and  severely  injured. 

On  the  29th,  the  Birmingham  mail 
was  nearly  seven  hours  in  going  from  the 
Post-office  to  a  mile  or  two  below  Ux- 
•bridge,  a  distance  of  twenty  miles  only  : 
and  on  this,  and  other  evenings,  the  short 
stages  in  the  neighbourhood  of  London 
had  two  persons  with  links,  running  by 
the  horses'  heads.  Pedestrians  carried 
links  or  lanterns,  and  many,  who  were 
not  so  provided,  lost  themselves  in  the 
most  frequented,  and  at  other  times  well- 
known  streets.  Hackney-coachmen  mis- 
took the  pathway  for  the  road,  and  the 
greatest  confusion  prevailed. 

On  the  31st,  the  increased  fog  in  the 
metropolis  was,  at  night,  truly  alarming. 
It  required  great  attention  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  public  streets  to  pro- 
ceed any  distance,  and  persons  who  had 
material  business  to  transact  were  un- 
avoidably compelled  to  carry  torches. 
The  lamps  appeared  through  the  haze  like 
small  candles.  Careful  hackney-coach- 
men got  off  the  box  and  led  their  horses, 
while  others  drove  only  at  a  walking 


pace.  There  were  frequent  meetings  of 
carriages,  and  great  mischief  ensued. 
Foot  passengers,  alarmed  at  the  idea  of 
being  run  down,  exclaimed,  "  Who  is 
coming  ?"— "  Mind  !"  —  «  Take  care  !" 
&c.  Females  who  ventured  abroad  were 
in  great  peril ;  and  innumerable  people 
lost  their  way. 

After  the  fogs,  there  were  heavier 
falls  of  snow  than  had  been  within  the 
memory  of  man.  With  only  short  inter- 
vals, it  snowed  incessantly  for  forty-eight 
hours,  and  this  after  the.  ground  was 
covered  with  ice,  the  result  of  nearly  four 
weeks  continued  frost.  During  this  long 
period,  the  wind  blew  almost  continually 
from  the  north  and  north-east,  and  the 
cold  was  intense.  A  short  thaw  of  about 
one  day,  rendered  the  streets  almost  im- 
passable. The  mass  of  snow  and  water 
was  so  thick,  that  hackney-coaches  with 
an  additional  horse,  and  other  vehicles, 
could  scarcely  plough  their  way  through. 
Trade  and  calling  of  all  kinds  in  the 
streets  were  nearly  stopped,  and  consi- 
derably increased  the  distresses  of  the 
industrious.  Few  carriages,  even  stages, 
could  travel  the  roads,  and  those  in  ~the 
neighbourhood  of  London  seemed  de- 
serted. From  many  buildings,  icicles,  a 
yard  and  a  half  long,  were  seen  suspended . 
The  water-pipes  to  the  houses  were  all 
frozen,  and  it  became  necessary  to  have 
plugs  in  the  streets  for  the  supply  of  all 
ranks  of  inhabitants.  The  Thames,  from 
London  Bridge  to  Blackfriars,  was  com- 
pletely blocked  up  at  ebb-tide  for  nearly 
a  fortnight  Every  pond  and  river  near 
the  metropolis  was  completely  frozen. 

Skating  was  pursued  with  great  avidity 
on  the  Canal  in  St.  James's,  and  the  Ser- 
pentine in  Hyde-park.  On  Monday  the 
10th  of  January,  the  Canal  and  the  Basin 
in  the  Green-park  were  conspicuous  for 
the  number  of  skaters,  who  administered 
to  the  pleasure  of  the  throngs  on  the 
banks ;  some  by  the  agility  and  grace  of 
their  evolutions,  and  others  by  tumbles 
and  whimsical  accidents  from  clumsy  at- 
tempts. A  motley  collection  of  all  orders 
seemed  eager  candidates  for  applause. 
The  sweep,  the  dustman,  the  drummer, 
the  beau,  gave  evidence  of  his  own  good 
opinion,  and  claimed  that  of  the  belles  who 
viewed  his  movements.  In  Hyde-park,  a 
more  distinguished  order  of  visitors 
crowded  the  banks  of  the  Serpentine. 
Ladies,  in  robes  of  the  richest  fur,  bid  de- 
fiance to  the  wintry  winds,  and  ventured 
on  the  frail  surface.  Skaters,  in  gicat 


103 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  22. 


104 


numbers,  of  first-rate  notoriety,  executed 
some  of  the  most  difficult  movements  of 
the  art,  to  universal  admiration.  A  lady 
and  two  officers,  who  performed  a  reel 
with  a  precision  scarcely  conceivable,  re- 
ceived  applause  so  boisterous  as  to  terrify 
the  fair  cause  of  the  general  expression, 
and  occasion  her  to  forego  the  pleasure  she 
received  from  the  amusement.  Two  ac- 
cidents occurred:  a  skating  lady  dislo- 
cated the  patella  or  kneepan,  and  five 
gentlemen  and  a  lady  were  submerged  in 
the  frosty  fluid,  but  with  no  other  injury 
than  from  the  natural  effect  of  so  cold  an 
embrace. 

On  the  20th,  in  consequence  of  the 
great  accumulation  of  snow  in  London,  it 
became  necessary  to  relieve  *he  roofs  of 
the  houses  by  throwing  off  the  load  col- 
lected upon  them.  By  this  means  the 
carriage-ways  in  the  middle  of  the  streets 
were  rendered  scarcely  pas»«tble;  and  the 
streams  constantly  flowing  from  the  open 
plugs,  added  to  the  general  mass  of  ice. 

Many  coach  proprietors,  on  the  northern 
and  western  roads,  discontinued  to  run 
their  coaches.  In  places  where  the  roads 
were  low,  the  snow  had  drifted  above  car- 
riage height.  On  Finchley-common,  by 
the  fall  of  one  night,  it  lay  to  a  depth 
of  sixteen  feet,  and  the  road  was  impass- 
able even  to  oxen.  On  Bagshot-heath 
and  about  Esher  and  Cobham  the  road 
was  completely  choked  up.  Except  the 
Kent  and  Essex  roads,  no  others  were 
passable  beyond  a  few  miles  from  London. 
The  coaches  of  the  western  road  remained 
stationary  at  different  parts.  The  Windsor 
coach  was  worked  through  the  snow  at 
Colnbrook,  which  was  there  sixteen  feet 
deep,  by  employing  about  fifty  labourers. 
At  Maidenhead-lane,  the  snow  was  still 
deeper ;  and  between  Twyford  and  Read- 
ing it  assumed  a  mountainous  appear- 
ance. Accounts  say  that,  on  parts  of 
Bagshot-heath,  description  would  fail  to 
convey  an  adequate  idea  of  its  situation. 
The  Newcastle  coach  went  off  the  road 
into  a  pit  upwards  of  eight  feet  deep,  but 
without  mischief  to  either  man  or  horse. 
The  middle  North-road  was  impassable 
at  Highgate-hill. 

On  the  22d  of  January,  and  for  some 
time  afterwards,  the  ice  on  the  Serpentine 
in  Hyde-park  bore  a  singular  appear- 
ance, from  mountains  of  snow  which 
sweepers  had  collected  together  in  dif- 
ferent situations.  The  spaces  allotted  for 


the  skaters  were  in  circles,  squares,  and 
oblongs.  Next  to  the  carriage  ride  on  the 
north  side,  many  astonishing  evolutions 
were  performed  by  the  skaters.  Skipping 
on  skates,  and  the  Turk-cap  backwards, 
were  among  the  most  conspicuous.  The 
ice,  injured  by  a  partial  thaw  in  some 
places,  was  much  cut  np,  yet  elegantly 
dressed  females  dashed  between  the  hil- 
locks of  snow,  with  great  bravery. 

At  this  time  the  appearance  of  the 
river  Thames  was  most  remarkable.  Vast 
pieces  of  floating  ice,  laden  generally  with 
heaps  of  snow,  were  slowly  carried  up 
and  down  by  the  tide,  or  collected  where 
the  projecting  banks  or  the  bridges  re- 
sisted the  flow.  These  accumulations 
sometimes  formed  a  chain  of  glaciers, 
which,  uniting  at  one  moment,  were  at 
another  cracking  and  bounding  against 
each  other  in  a  singular  and  awful  manner 
with  loud  noise.  Sometimes  these  ice 
islands  rose  one  over  another,  covered 
with  angry  foam,  and  were  violently  im- 
pelled by  the  winds  and  waves  through 
the  arches  of  the  bridges,  with  tremen- 
dous crashes.  Near  the  bridges,  the 
floating  pieces  collected  about  mid-water, 
or  while  the  tide  was  less  forcible,  and 
ranged  themselves  on  each  other ;  the 
stream  formed  them  into  order  by  its 
force  as  it  passed,  till  the  narrowness  of 
the  channel  increased  the  power  of  the 
flood,  when  a  sudden  disruption  taking 
place,  the  masses  burst  away,  and  floated 
off.  The  river  was  frozen  over  for  the 
space  of  a  week,  and  a  complete  Frost 
Fair  held  upon  it,  as  will  be  mentioned 
presently. 

Since  the  establishment  of  mail-coaches 
correspondence  had  not  been  so  inter- 
rupted as  on  this  occasion.  Internal 
communication  was  completely  at  a  stand 
till  the  roads  could  be  in  some  degree 
cleared.  The  entire  face  of  the  country 
was  one  uniform  sheet  of  snow ;  no  trace 
of  road  was  discoverable. 

The  Post-office  exerted  itself  to  have 
the  roads  cleared  for  the  conveyance  of 
the  mails,  and  the  government  interfered 
by  issuing  instructions  to  every  parish  in 
the  kingdom  to  employ  labourers  in  re- 
opening the  ways. 


In  the  midland  counties,  particularly 
on  the  borders  of  Northamptonshire  and 
Warwickshire,  the  snow  lay  to  a  height 


1J5 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  22. 


106 


altogether  unprecedented.  AtDunchurch, 
a  small  village  on  the  road  to  Birming- 
nara,  through  Coventry,  and  for  a  few 
miles  round  that  place,  in  all  directions, 
the  drifts  exceeded  twenty-four  feet,  and 
no  tracks  of  carriages  or  travellers  could 
oe  discovered,  except  on  the  great  road, 
for  many  days. 

The  Cambridge  mail  coach  coming 
to  London,  sunk  into  a  hollow  of 
the  road,  and  remained  with  the  snow 
drifting  over  it,  from  one  o'clock  to  nine 
in  the  morning,  when  it  was  dragged  out 
by  fourteen  waggon  horses.  The  pas- 
sengers, who  were  in  the  coach  the  whole 
of  the  time,  were  nearly  frozen  to  death. 

On  the  26th,  the  wind  veered  to  the 
south-west,  and  a  thaw  was  speedily  dis- 
cernible. The  great  fall  of  the  Thames 
at  London-bridge  for  some  days  presented 
a  scene  both  novel  and  interesting.  At 
the  ebbing  of  the  tide,  huge  fragments  of 
ice  were  precipitated  down  the  stream 
with  great  violence,  accompanied  by  a 
noise,  equal  to  the  report  of  a  small  piece 
of  artillery.  On  the  return  of  the  tide, 
they  were  forced  back ;  but  the  obstacles 
opposed  to  their  passage  through  the 
arches  were  so  great,  as  to  threaten  a 
total  stoppage  to  the  navigation  of  the 
river.  The  thaw  continued,  and  these 
appearances  gradually  ceased. 

On  the  27th,  28th,  and  29th,  the  roads 
and  streets  were  nearly  impassable  from 
floods,  and  the  accumulation  of  snow. 
On  Sunday  the  30th  a  sharp  frost  set  in, 
and  continued  till  the  following  Saturday 
evening,  the  5th  of  February. 

The  Falmouth  mail  coach  started  from 
thence  for  Exeter,  after  h;iving  proceeded 
a  few  miles  was  overturned,  without  ma- 
terial injury  to  the  passengers.  With  the 
assistance  of  an  additional  pair  of  horses 
it  reached  the  first  stage  ;  affer  which  all 
endeavours  to  proceed  were  found  per- 
fectly useless,  and  the  letters  were  sent  to 
Bodmin  by  the  guard  on  horseback.  The 
Falmouth  and  Plymouth  coach  and  its 
passengers  were  obliged  to  remain  at  St. 
Austell. 

At  Plymouth,  the  snow  was  nearly  four 
feet  high  in  several  of  the  streets. 

At  Liverpool,  on  the  17th  of  January, 
Fahrenheit's  thermometer,  in  the  Athe- 
naeum, stood  at  fifteen  degrees ;  seven 
below  the  freezing  point.  From  the  ice 
accumulated  in  the  Mersey,  boats  could 


not  pass  over.  Almost  all  labour  with- 
out doors  was  at  a  stand. 

At  Gloucester,  Jan.  17.  The  severity 
of  the  frost  had  not  been  exceeded  by 
any  that  preceded  it.  The  Severn  was 
frozen  over,  and  people  went  to  Tewkes- 
bury  market  across  the  ice  on  horseback. 
The  cold  was  intense.  The  thermometer, 
exposed  in  a  north-eastern  aspect,  stood 
at  thirteen  degrees,  nine  below  the  freez- 
ing point.  On  the  eastern  coast,  it  stood 
as  low  as  nine  and  ten  ;  a  degree  of  cold 
unusual  in  this  county. 

Bristol,  Jan.  18.  The  frost  continued 
in  this  city  with  the  like  severity.  The 
Floating  Harbour  from  Cumberland  basin 
to  the  Feeder,  at  the  bottom  of  Avon- 
street,  was  one  continued  sheet  of  ice ; 
and  for  the  first  time  in  the  memory  of 
man,  the  skater  made  his  appearance 
under  Bristol-bridge.  The  Severn  was 
frozen  over  at  various  points,  so  as  to  bear 
the  weight  of  passengers. 

At  Whitehaven,  Jan.  18,  the  frost  had 
increased  in  severity.  All  the  ponds  and 
streams  were  frozen ;  and  there  was 
scarcely  a  pump  in  the  town  that  gave 
out  water.  The  market  was  very  thinly 
attended-,  it  having  been  found  in  many 
parts  impossible  to  travel  until  the  snow 
was  cut. 

At  Dublin,  Jan.  14,  the  snow  lay  in  a 
quantity  unparalleled  for  half  a  century. 
In  the  course  of  one  day  and  night,  it 
descended  so  inconceivably  thick  and 
rapid,  as  to  block  up  all  the  roads,  and 
preclude  the  possibility  of  the  mail  coaches 
being  able  to  proceed,  and  it  was  even 
found  impracticable  to  send  the  mails  on 
horseback.  Thus  all  intercourse  with  the 
interior  was  cut  off,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  18th,  when  an  intense  frost  suddenly 
commenced,  that  the  communication  was 
opened,  and  several  mail  bags  arrived 
from  the  country  on  horseback. 

The  snow  in  many  of  the  narrow  streets 
of  Dublin,  after  the  footways  had  been  in 
some  measure  cleared,  was  more  than  six 
fe^t.  It  was  nearly  impossible  for  any 
carriage  to  force  a  passage,  and  few  ven- 
tured on  the  hazardous  attempt.  Acci- 
dents, both  distressing  and  fatal,  occurred. 
In  several  streets  and  lanes  the  poorer 
inhabitants  were  literally  blocked  up  in 
their  houses,  and  in  the  attempt  to  go 
abroad,  experienced  every  kind  of  misery. 
The  number  of  deaths  from  cold  and 
distress  were  greater  than  at  any  other 
period,  unless  at  the  time  of  the  plague. 
There  were  eighty  funerals  on  the  Sunday 


107 


THE  EVERY  DAY-BOOK —JANUARY  22. 


108 


before  this  date.  The  coffin -makers  in 
Cook-street  could  with  difficulty  com- 
plete their  numerous  orders :  and  not  a 
few  poor  people  lay  dead  in  their  wretched 
rooms  for  several  days,  from  the  impos- 
sibility of  procuring  assistance  to  convey 
them  to  the  Hospital-fields,  and  the  great 
difficulty  and  danger  of  attempting  to 
open  the  ground,  which  was  very  uneven, 
and  where  the  snow  remained  in  some 
parts,  twenty  feet  deep. 

From  Canterbury,  January  25,  the 
communication  with  the  metropolis  was 
not  open  from  Monday  until  Saturday 
preceding  this  date,  when  the  snow  was 
cut  through  by  the  military  at  Chatham- 
hill,  and  near  Gravesend ;  and  the  stages 
proceeded  with  their  passengers.  The 
mail  of  the  Thursday  night  arrived  at 
Canterbury  late  on  Friday  evening,  the 
bags  having  been  conveyed  part  of  the 
distance  upon  men's  shoulders.  The  bags 
of  Friday  and  Saturday  night  arrived 
together  on  Sunday  morning  about  ten 
o'clock. 

Dalrymple,  North  Britain,  January 
29. — Wednesday,  the  26th,  was  an  epoch 
ever  to  be  remembered  by  the  inhabitants 
of  this  village.  The  thaw  of  that  and  the 
preceding  day  had  opened  the  Doon, 
formerly  "  bound  like  a  rock,"  to  a  con- 
siderable distance  above  this ;  and  the 
melting  of  the  snow  on  the  adjacent  hills 
swelled  the  river  beyond  its  usual  height, 
and  burst  up  vast  fragments  of  ice  and 
congealed  snow.  It  forced  them  forward 
with  irresistible  impetuosity,  bending 
trees  like  willows,  carrying  down  Skel- 
ton-bridge,  and  sweeping  all  before  it. 
The  overwhelming  torrent  in  its  awful 
progress  accumulated  a  prodigious  mass 
of  the  frozen  element,  which,  as  if  in 
wanton  frolic,  it  heaved  out  into  the  fields 
on  both  sides,  covering  acres  of  ground 
many  feet  deep.  Alternately  loading 
and  discharging  in  this  manner,  it  came 
to  a  door  or  two  in  the  village,  as  if  to 
apprize  the  inhabitants  of  its  powers. 
The  river  having  deserted  its  wonted 
channel,  endeavoured  to  make  its  grand 
entry  by  several  courses  successively  in 
Saint  Valley,  and  finding  no  one  of  them 
sufficient  for  its  reception,  took  them 
altogether,  and  overrunning  the  whole 
holm  at  once,  appeared  here  in  terrific 
grandeur,  between  seven  and  eight  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  when  the  moon  retreated 
behind  a  cloud,  and  the  gloom  of  night 
added  to  the  horrors  of  the  tremendous 
scene.  Like  a  sea,  it  overflowed  all  the 


gardens  on  the  east  side,  from  the  cross 
to  the  bridge,  and  invaded  the  houses 
behind  by  the  doors  and  windows,  ex- 
tinguishing the  fires  in  a  moment,  lifting 
and  tumbling  the  furniture,  and  gushing 
out  at  the  front  doors  with  incredible 
rapidity.  Its  principal  inroad  was  by 
the  end  of  a  bridge.  Here,  while  the 
houses  stood  as  a  bank  on  either  side,  it 
came  crashing  and  roaring  up  the  street 
in  full  career,  casting  forth,  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  cross,  floats  of  ice  like  mill- 
stones. The  houses  on  the  west  side 
were  in  the  same  situation  with  those  on 
the  east.  At  one  place  the  water  was 
running  on  the  house-eaves,  at  another 
it  was  near  the  door-head,  and  midway 
up  the  street,  it  stood  three  feet  and  a 
half  above  the  door.  Had  it  advanced 
five  minutes  longer  in  this  direction,  the 
whole  village  must  have  been 'inundated. 

During  this  frost  a  great  number  of 
the  fish  called  golden  maids,  were  picked 
up  on  Brighton  beach  and  sold  at  good 
prices.  They  floated  ashore  quite  blind, 
having  been  reduced  to  that  state  by  the 


Annexed  are  a  few  of  the  casualties 
consequent  on  this  great  frost.  A  woman 
was  found  frozen  to  death  on  the  High- 
gate-road.  She  proved  to  have  been  a 
charwoman,  returning  from  Highgate, 
where  she  had  been  at  work,  toPancras. 

A  poor  woman  named  Wood,  while 
crossing  Blackheath  from  Leigh  to  the 
village  of  Charlton,  accompanied  by  her 
two  children,  was  benighted,  and  missed 
her  way.  After  various  efforts  to  extri- 
cate herself,  she  fell  into  a  hole,  and  was 
nearly  buried  in  the  snow.  From  this, 
however,  she  contrived  to  escape,  and 
again  proceeded ;  but  at  length,  being 
completely  exhausted,  and  her  children 
benumbed  with  cold,  she  sat  down  on 
the  trunk  of  a  tree,  where,  wrapping  her 
children  in  her  cloak,  she  endeavoured  by 
loud  cries  to  attract  the  attention  of  some 
passengers.  Her  shrieks  at  length  were 
heard  by  a  waggoner,  who  humanely 
waded  through  the  snow  to  her  assistance, 
and  taking  her  children,  who  seemed  in 
a  torpid  state,  in  his  arms,  he  conducted 
her  to  a  public-house ;  one  of  the  infants 
was  frozen  to  death,  and  the  other  was 
recovered  with  extreme  difficulty. 

As  some  workmen  were  clearing  away 
the  snow,  which  was  twelve  feet  deep,  at 


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11G 


Kipton,  on  the  border  of  Northampton-  mass  as  to  render  it  immovable  by  the 
shire,  the  body  of  a  child  about  three  tide. 

years  old  was  discovered,  and  imme-  On  Tuesday,  February  1,  the  river 
diately  afterwards  the  body  of  its  mother,  presented  a  thoroughly  solid  surface  over 
She  was  the  wife  of  a  soldier  of  the  16th  that  part  which  extends  from  Blackfriars 
regiment,  returning  home  with  her  infant  Bridge  to  some  distance  below  Three 
after  accompanying  her  husband  to  the  Crane  Stairs,  at  the  bottom  of  Queen- 
place  of  embarkation.  It  was  supposed  street,  Cheapside.  The  watermen  placed 
they  had  been  a  week  in  the  snow.  notices  at  the  end  of  all  the  streets  lead- 

There  was  found  lying  in  the  road  ing  to  the  city  side  of  the  river,  an- 
leading  from  Longford  to  Upham,  frozen  nouncing  a  safe  footway  over,  which 
to  death,  a  Mr.  Apthorne,  a  grazier,  at  attracted  immense  crowds,  and  in  a  short 
Coltsworth.  He  had  left  Hounslow  at  time  thousands  perambulated  the  rugged 
dusk  on  Monday  evening,  after  having  plain,  where  a  variety  of  amusements 
drank  rather  freely,  and  proposed  to  go  were  provided.  Among  the  more  curious 
that  night  to  Marlow.  of  these  was  the  ceremony  of  roasting  a 

On  his  return  from  Wakefield  market,  small  sheep,  or  rather  toasting  or  burning 
Mr.  Husband,  of  Holroyd  Hall,  was  it  over  a  coal  fire,  placed  in  a  large  iron 
frozen  to  death,  within  little  more  than  pan.  For  a  view  of  this  extraordinary 
a  hundred  yards  of  the  house  of  his  spectacle,  sixpence  was  demanded,  and 
nephew,  with  whom  he  resided.  willingly  paid.  The  delicate  meat,  when 

Mr.  Chapman,  organist,  and  master  of  done,  was  sold  at  a  shilling  a  slice,  and 
the  central  school  at  Andover,  Hants,  termed  "  Lapland  mutton."  There  were 
was  frozen  to  death  near  Wallop,  in  that  a  great  number  of  booths  ornamented 
county.  with  streamers,  flags,  and  signs,  and 

A  young  man  named  Monk,  while  within  them  there  was  a  plentiful  store 
driving  a  stage-coach  near  Ryegate,  was  of  favourite  luxuries  with  most  of  the 
thrown  off  the  box  on  a  lump  of  frozen  multitude,  gin,  beer,  and  gingerbread. 
snow,  and  killed  on  the  spot.  The  thoroughfare  opposite  Three  Crane 

Stairs  was  complete  and  well  frequented. 

The  thermometer  during  this  intense  It  was  strewed  with  ashes,  and  afforded 
frost  was  as  low  as  7°  and  8°  of  Fahren-  a  very  safe,  although  a  very  rough  path, 
heit,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  London.  Near  Blackfriars  Bridge,  however,  the 
There  are  instances  of  its  having  been  way  was  not  equally  severe ;  a  plumber, 
lower  in  many  seasons,  but  so  long  a  named  Davis,  having  imprudently  ven- 
continuance  of  very  cold  weather  was  tured  to  cross  with  some  lead  in  his 
never  experienced  in  this  climate  within  hands,  sank  between  two  masses  of  ice, 
the  memory  of  man.  and  rose  no  more.  Two  young  women 

nearly  shared  a  similar  fate;  they  were 

4frOS»t  jf&UT 1814*  rescued  from  their  perilous  situation  by 

the    prompt   efforts    of   two   watermen. 

On  Sunday,  the  30th  of  January,  the  Many  a  fair  nymph  indeed  was  em- 
immense  masses  of  ice  that  floated  from  braced  in  the  icy  arms  of  old  Father 
the  upper  parts  of  the  river,  in  conse-  Thames ;— three  young  quakeresses  had 
quence  of  the  thaw  on  the  two  preceding  a  sort  of  semi-bathing,  near  London 
days,  blocked  up  the  Thames  between  Bridge,  and  when  landed  on  terra-firma, 
Blackfriars  and  London  Bridges  ;  and  made  the  best  of  their  way  through  the 
afforded  every  probability  of  its  being  Borough,  amidst  the  shouts  of  an  ad- 
frozen  over  in  a  day  or  two.  Some  ad-  miring  populace.  From  the  entire  ob- 
venturous  persons  even  now  walked  on  struction  the  tide  did  not  appear  to  ebb 
different  parts,  and  on  the  next  day,  for  some  days  more  than  one  half  the 
Monday  the  31st,  the  expectation  was  usual  mark. 

realized.  During  the  whole  of  the  after-  On  Wednesday,  Feb.  2,  the  sports  were 
noon,  hundreds  of  people  were  assembled  repeated,  and  the  Thames  presented  a 
on  Blackfriars  and  London  Bridges,  to  complete  "  FROST  FAIR."  The  grand 
see  people  cross  and  recross  the  Thames  "  mall"  or  walk  now  extended  from  Black- 
on  the  ice.  Atone  time  seventy  per-  friars  Bridge  to  London  Bridge;  this  was 
sons  were  counted  walking  from  Queen-  named  the  "  City-road,"  and  was  lined 
hithe  to  the  opposite  shore.  The  frost  on  each  side  by  persons  of  all  descriptions, 
of  Sunday  night  so  united  the  vast  Eight  or  ten  printing  presses  were  erected 


Ill 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  22. 


and  numerous  pieces  commemorative  of 
the  "great  frost"  were  printed  on  the 
ice.  Some  of  these  frosty  typographers 
displayed  considerable  taste  in  their  spe- 
cimens. At  one  of  the  presses,  an  orange- 
coloured  standard  was  hoisted,  with  the 
tvatch-word  "  ORANGE  BOVEW,"  in  large 
characters.  This  was  in  allusion  to  the 
recent  restoration  of  the  stadtholder  to 
the  government  of  Holland,  which  had 
been  for  several  years  under  the  dominion 
of  the  French.  From  this  press  the  fol- 
lowing papers  were  issued. 

"  FROST  FAIR. 

"  Amidst  the  arts  which  on  the  THAMES  ap- 
pear, 

To  tell  the  wonders  of  this  icy  year, 

PRINTING  claims  prior  place,  which  at  one 
view 

Erects  a  monument  of  THAT  and  You." 

Another  : 

"  You  that  walk  here,  and  do  design  to  tell 
Your  children's  children  what  this  year  be- 
fell, 

Come,  buy  this  print,  and  it  will  then  be  seen 
That  such  a  year  as  this  has  seldom  been." 

Another  of  these  stainers  of  paper  ad- 
dressed the  spectators  in  the  following 
terms  ,  "  Friends,  now  is  your  time  to 
support  the  freedom  of  the  press.  Can 
the  press  have  greater  liberty  ?  here  you 
find  it  working  in  the  middle  of  the 
Thames ;  and  if  you  encourage  us  by 
buying  our  impressions,  we  will  keep  it 
going  in  the  true  spirit  of  liberty  during 
the  frost."  One  of  the  articles  printed 
and  sold  contained  the  following  lines  : 

"  Behold,  the  river  Thames  is  frozen  o'er, 
Which  lately  ships  of  mighty  burden  bore  ; 
Now  different  arts  and  pastimes  here  you  see, 
But  printing  claims  the  superiority." 

The  Lord's  prayer  and  several  other 
pieces  were  issued  from  these  icy  printing 
offices,  and  bought  with  the  greatest 
avidity. 

On  Thursday,  Feb.  3,  the  number  of 
adventurers  increased.  Swings,  book- 
stalls, dancing  in  a  barge,  suttling-booths, 
playing  at  skittles,  and  almost  every  ap- 
pendage of  a  fair  on  land,  appeared  now  on 
the  Thames.  Thousands  flocked  to  this 
singular  spectacle  of  sports  and  pastimes. 
The  ice  seemed  to  be  a  solid  rock,  and 
presented  a  truly  picturesque  appearance. 
The  view  of  St.  Paul's  and  of  the  city 
with  the  white  foreground  had  a  very  sin- 
gular effect ; — in  many  parts,  mountains 
of  ice  upheaved  resembled  lhe  rude  in- 
terior cf  a  stone  quarry. 


Friday,  Feb.  4.  Each  day  brought  a, 
fresh  accession  of  "  pedlars  to  sell  their 
wares;  "and  the  greatest  rubbisn  of  all 
sorts  was  raked  up  and  sold  at  double  and 
treble  the  original  cost.  Books  and  toys, 
labelled  "  bought  on  the  Thames,"  were 
in  profusion.  The  watermen  profited 
exceedingly,  for  each  person  paid  a  toll  of 
twopence  or  threepence  before  he  was 
admitted  to  "  Frost  Fair  j"  some  douceur 
was  expected  on  the  return.  Some  of 
them  were  said  to  have  taken  six  pounds 
each  in  the  course  of  a  day. 

This  afternoon,  about  five  o'clock,  three 
persons,  an  old  man  and  two  lads,  were 
on  a  piece  of  ice  above  London-bridge, 
which  suddenly  detached  itself  from  the 
main  body,  and  was  carried  by  the  tide 
through  one  of  the  arches.  They  laid 
themselves  down  for  safety,  and  the 
boatmen  at  Billingsgate,  put  off  to  their 
assistance,  and  rescued  them  from  their 
impending  danger.  One  of  them  was 
able  to  walk,  but  the  other  two  were  car- 
ried, in  a  state  of  insensibility,  to  a  public- 
house,  where  they  received  every  atten- 
tion their  situation  required. 

Many  persons  were  on  the  ice  till  late 
at  night,  and  the  effect  by  moonlight  was 
singularly  novel  and  beautiful.  The  bo- 
som of  the  Thames  seemed  to  rival  the 
frozen  climes  of  the  north. 

Saturday,  Feb.  5.  This  morning  augured 
unfavourably  for  the  continuance  of 
"FROST  FAIR."  The  wind  had  veered 
to  the  south,  and  there  was  a  light  fall  of 
snow.  The  visitors,  however,  were  not 
to  be  deterred  by  trifles.  Thousands 
again  ventured,  and  there  was  still  much 
life  and  bustle  on  the  frozen  element ;  the 
footpath  in  the  centre  of  the  river  was 
hard  and  secure,  and  among  the  pedes- 
trians were  four  donkies ;  they  trotted  a 
nimble  pace,  and  produced  considerable 
merriment.  At  every  glance,  there  was  a 
novelty  of  some  kind  or  other.  Gaming 
was  carried  on  in  all  its  branches.  Many 
of  the  itinerant  admirers  of  the  profits 
gained  by  E  O  Tables,  Rouge  et  Noir, 
Te-totum,  wheel  of  fortune,  the  garter, 
&c.  were  industrious  in  their  avocations, 
and  some  of  their  customers  left  the  lures 
without  a  penny  to  pay  the  passage  over 
a  plank  to  the  shore.  Skittles  was  played 
by  several  parties,  and  the  drinking  tents 
were  filled  by  females  and  their  compa- 
nions, dancing  reels  to  the  sound  of  fid- 
dles, while  others  sat  round  large  fires, 
drinking  rum,  grog,  and  other  spirits. 
Tea,  coffee,  and  eatables,  were  provided 


113 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK, —JANUARY  22. 


114 


in  abundance,  and  passengers  were  invited 
to  eat  by  way  of  recording  their  visit. 
Several  tradesmen,  who  at  other  times 
were  deemed  respectable,  attended  with 
their  wares,  and  sold  books,  toys,  and 
trinkets  of  almost  every  description. 

Towards  the  evening,  the  concourse 
thinned ;  rain  began  to  fall,  and  the  ice  to 
crack,  and  on  a  sudden  it  floated  with 
the  printing  presses,  booths,  and  merry- 
makers, to  the  no  small  dismay  of  pub- 
licans, typographers,  shopkeepers,  and 
sojourners. 

A  short  time  previous  to  the  general 
dissolution,  a  person  near  one  of  the 
printing  presses,  handed  the  following 
jeu  d 'esprit  to  its  conductor;  request- 
ing that  it  might  be  printed  on  the 
Thames. 

To  Madam  Tabitha  Thaw. 

"  Dear  dissolving  dame, 
"  FATHER  FROST  and  SISTER  SNOW 
have  Boneyed  my  borders,-  formed  an  idol 
of  ice  upon  my  bosom,  and  all  the  LADS 
OF  LONDON  come  to  make  merry  :  now  as 
you  love  mischief,  treat  the  multitude 
with  a  few  CRACKS  by  a  sudden  visit,  and 
obtain  the  prayers  of  the  poor  upon  both 
banks.  Given  at  my  own  press,  the  5th 
Feb.  1814.  THOMAS  THAMES." 

The  thaw  advanced  more  rapidly  than 
indiscretion  and  heedlessness  retreated. 
Two  genteel-looking  young  men  ven- 
tured on  the  ice  above  Westminster 
Bridge,  notwithstanding  the  warnings  of 
the  watermen.  A  large  mass  on  which 
they  stood,  and  which  had  been  loosened 
by  the  flood  tide,  gave  way,  and  they 
floated  down  the  stream.  As  they  passed 
under  Westminster  Bridge  they  cried 
piteously  for  help.  They  had  not  gone 
far  before  they  sat  down,  near  the  edge ; 
this  overbalanced  the  mass,  they  were 
precipitated  into  the  flood,  and  over- 
whelmed for  ever. 

A  publican  named  Lawrence,  of  the 
Feathers,  in  High  Timber-street,  Queen- 
hithe,  erected  a  booth  on  the  Thames 
opposite  Brook's-wharf,  for  the  accom- 
modation of  the  curious.  At  nine  at  night 
he  left  it  in  the  care  of  two  men,  taking 
away  all  the  liquors,  except  some  gin, 
which  he  gave  them  for  their  own  use. 

Sunday,  Feb.  6.  At  two  o'clock  this 
morning,  the  tide  began  to  flow  with 
great  rapidity  at  London  Bridge  ;  the 
thaw  assisted  the  efforts  of  the  tide,  and 
the  booth  last  mentioned  was  violently 
hurried  towards  Blackfwars  Bridge.  There 


were  nine  men  in  it,  but  in  their  alarm 
they  neglected  the  fire  and  candles,  which 
communicating  with  the  covering,  set  it 
in  a  flame.  They  succeeded  in  getting 
into  a  lighter  which  had  broken  from  its 
moorings.  In  this  vessel  they  were 
wrecked,  for  it  was  dashed  to  pieces 
against  one  of  the  piers  of  Blackfriars 
Bridge :  seven  of  them  got  on  the  pier 
and  were  taken  off  safely ;  the  other  two 
got  into  a  barge  while  passing  Puddle- 
dock. 

On  this  day,  the  Thames  towards  high 
tide  (about  3  p.  m.)  presented  a  miniature 
idea  of  the  Frozen  Ocean  ;  the  masses  of 
ice  floating  along,  added  to  the  great 
height  of  the  water,  formed  a  striking 
scene  for  contemplation.  Thousands  of 
disappointed  persons  thronged  the  banks ; 
and  many  a  'prentice,  and  servant  maid, 
"  sighed  unutterable  things,"  at  the  sud- 
den and  unlocked  for  destruction  of 
"  FROST  FAIR." 

Monday,  Feb.  7.  Immense  fragments 
of  ice  yet  floated,  and  numerous  lighters, 
broken  from  their  moorings,  drifted  in 
different  parts  of  the  river ;  many  of  them 
were  complete  wrecks.  The  frozen  ele- 
ment soon  attained  its  wonted  fluidity, 
and  old  Father  Thames  looked  as  cheerful 
and  as  busy  as  ever. 

The  severest  English  winter,  however 
astonishing  to  ourselves,  presents  no  views 
comparable  to  the  winter  scenery  of  more 
northern  countries.  A  philosopher  and 
poet  of  our  own  days,  who  has  been  also 
a  traveller,  beautifully  describes  a  lake  in 
Germany : — 

Christmas  out  of  doors  at  Ratzburg. 
By  S.  T.  COLERIDGE,  Esq 

The  whole  lake  is  at  this  time  one  mass 
of  thick  transparent  ice,  a  spotless  mirror 
of  nine  miles  in  extent !  The  lowness  of 
the  hills,  which  rise  from  the  shores  of  the 
lake,  preclude  the  awful  sublimity  of  Al- 
pine scenery,  yet  compensate  for  the  want 
of  it,  by  beauties  of  which  this  very  low- 
ness  is  a  necessary  condition.  Yesterday 
I  saw  the  lesser  lake  completely  hidden 
by  mist ;  but  the  moment  the  sun  peeped 
over  the  hill,  the  mist  broke  in  the  mid- 
dle, and  in  a  few  seconds  stood  divided, 
leaving  a  broad  road  all  across  the  lake; 
and  between  these  two  walls  of  mist  the 
sunlight  burnt  upon  the  ice,  forming  a 
road  of  golden  fire,  intolerably  bright! 
and  the  mist  walls  themselves  partook  of 


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116 


the  blaze  in  a  multitude  of  shining  co- 
lours. This  is  our  second  post.  About  a 
month  ago,  before  the  thaw  came  on, 
there  was  a  storm  of  wind ;  -during  the 
whole  night,  such  were  the  thunders  and 
howlings  of  the  breaking  ice,  that  they 
have  left  a  conviction  on  my  mind,  that 
there  are  sounds  more  sublime  than  any 
sight  can  be,  more  absolutely  suspending 
the  power  of  comparison,  and  more  utterly 
absorbing  the  mind's  self-consciousness  in 
its  total  attention  to  the  object  working 
upon  it  Part  of  the  ice,  which  the  vehe- 
mence of  the  wind  had  shattered,  was 
driven  shoieward,  and  froze  anew.  On 
the  evening  of  the  next  day  at  sunset,  the 
shattered  ice  thus  frozen  appeared  of  a 
deep  blue,  and  in  shape  like  an  agitated 
sea ;  beyond  this,  the  water  that  ran  up 
between  the  great  islands  of  ice  which 
had  preserved  their  masses  entire  and 
smooth,  shone  of  a  yellow  green ;  but  all 
these  scattered  ice  islands  themselves  were 
of  an  intensely  bright  blood  colour — they 
seemed  blood  and  light  in  union !  On 
some  of  the  largest  of  these  islands,  the 
fishermen  stood  pulling  out  their  immense 
nets  through  the  holes  made  in  the  ice  for 
this  purpose,  and  the  men,  their  net  poles, 
and  their  huge  nets,  were  a  part  of  the 
glory — say  rather,  it  appeared  as  if  the  rich 
crimson  light  had  shaped  itself  into  these 
forms,  figures,  and  attitudes,  to  make  a 
glorious  vision  in  mockery  of  earthly 
things. 

The  lower  lake  is  now  all  alive  with 
skaters  and  with  ladies  driven  onward 
by  them  in  their  ice  cars.  Mercury  surely 
was  the  first  maker  of  skates,  and  the 
wings  at  his  feet  are  symbols  of  the  in- 
vention. In  skating,  there  are  three  pleas- 
ing circumstances — the  infinitely  subtle 
particles  of  ice  which  the  skaters  cut  up, 
and  which  creep  and  run  before  the  skate 
like  a  low  mist  and  in  sunrise  or  sunset 
become  coloured ;  second,  the  shadow  of 
the  skater  in  the  "water,  seen  through  the 
transparent  ice ;  and  third,  the  melan- 
choly undulating  sound  from  the  skate 
not  without  variety  ;  and  when  very  many 
are  skating  together,  the  sounds  and  the 
noises  give  an  impulse  to  the  icy  trees, 
and  the  woods  all  round  the  lake  trinkte. 


In  the  frosty  season  when  the  sun 
Was  set,  and  visible  for  many  a  mile, 
The  cottage  windows  through  the  twilight 
blazed, 

heeded  not  the  summons ; — happy  time 


It  was  indeed  for  all  of  us,  to  me 
It  was  a  time  of  rapture  !  clear  and  loud 
The  village  clock  tolled  six !  I  wheel'd  about 
Proud  and  exulting,  like  an  untired  horse 
That  cared  not  for  its  home.     All  shod  with 

steel 

We  hissed  along  the  polished  ice,  in  games 
Confederate,  imitative  of  the  chase 
And   woodland  pleasures,  the    resounding 

horn, 
The  pack  loud   bellowing  and  the   hunted 

hare. 
So  through  the  darkness  and  the  cold  we 

flew, 

And  not  a  voice  was  idle  ;  with  the  din, 
Meanwhile  the  precipices  rang  aloud, 
The  leafless  trees  and  every  icy  crag 
Tinkled  like  iron,  while  the  distant  hills 
Into  the  tumult  sent  an  alien  sound 
Of  melancholy — not   unnoticed,  while  the 

stars 
Eastward,  were  sparkling  clear,  and  in  the 

west 
The  orange  sky  of  evening  died  away. 

Not  seldom  from  the  uproar  I  retired 
Into  a  silent  bay,  or  sportively 
Glanced   sideway,    leaving  the  tumultuous 

throng 

To  cut  across  the  image  of  a  star 
That  gleamed  upon  the  ice  ;  and  oftentimes 
Where  we  had  given  our  bodies  to  the  wind, 
And  all  the  shadowy  banks  on  either  side 
Came  sweeping  through  the  darkness,  shun- 
ning still 

The  rapid  line  of  motion,  then  at  once 
Have  I,  reclining  back  upon  my  heels, 
Stopped  short ;  yet  still  the  solitary  cliffs 
Wheeled  by  me  even  as  if  the   earth  had 

rolled 

With  visible  motion  her  diurnal  round  ! 
Behind  me   did  they    stretch    in    solemn 

train 
Feebler    and    feebler,    and     I   stood   and 

watched 
Till  all  was  tranquil  as  a  summer  sea. 

Wordsworth. 


The  earliest  notice  of  skating  in  Eng- 
land is  obtained  from  the  earliest  descrip- 
tion of  London.  Its  historian  relates 
that,  "  when  the  great  fenne  or  moore 
(which  watereth  the  walles  of  the  citie  on 
the  north  side)  is  frozen,  many  young 
men  play  upon  the  yce."  Happily,  and 
probably  for  want  of  a  term  to  call  it  by, 
he  describes  so  much  of  this  pastime  in 
Moorfields,  as  acquaints  us  with  their 
mode  of  skating :  "  Some,"  he  says, 
"  stryding  as  wide  as  they  may,  doe  slide 
swiftly,"  this  then  is  sliding ;  but  he  pro- 
ceeds to  tell  us,  that  "  some  tye  bones  to 


117 


•THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  23. 


118 


their  feete,  and  under  their  heeles,  and 
shoving  themselves  by  a  little  picked 
staffe  doe  slide  as  swiftly  as  a  birde  flyeth 
in  the  air,  or  an  arrow  out  of  a  crosse- 
bow."*  Here,  although  the  implements 
were  rude,  we  have  skaters ;  and  it  seems 
that  one  of  their  sports  was  for  two  to 
start  a  great  way  off  opposite  to  each 
other,  and  when  they  met,  to  lift  their 
poles  and  strike  each  other,  when  one  or 
both  fell,  and  were  carried  to  a  distance 
from  each  other  by  the  celerity  of  their 
motion.  Of  the  present  wooden  skates, 
shod  with  iron,  there  is  no  doubt,  we  ob- 
tained a  knowledge  from  Holland. 

The  icelanders  also  used  the  shank- 
bone  of  a  deer  or  sheep  about  a  foot  long, 
which  they  greased,  because  they  should 
not  be  stopped  by  drops  of  water  upon 
them,  f 

It  is  asserted  in  the  "  Encyclopaedia 
Britannica,"  that  Edinburgh  produced 
more  instances  of  elegant  skaters  than 
perhaps  any  other  country,  and  that  the 
institution  of  a  skating  club  there  contri- 
buted to  its  improvement.  "  I  have 
however  seen,  some  years  back,"  says 
Mr.  Strutt,  "  when  the  Serpentine  river 
was  frozen  over,  four  gentlemen  there 
dance,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  expression, 
a  double  minuet  in  skates  with  as  much 
ease,  and  I  think  more  elegance,  than  in 
a  ball  room ;  others  again,  by  turning  and 
winding  with  much  adroitness,  have  rea- 
dily in  succession  described  upon  the  ice 
the  form  of  all  the  letters  in  the  alphabet." 
The  same  may  be  observed  there  during 
every  frost,  but  the  elegance  of  skaters  on 
that  sheet  of  water  is  chiefly  exhibited  in 
quadrilles,  which  some  parties  go  through 
with  a  beauty  scarcely  imaginable  by 
those  who  have  not  seen  graceful  skating. 
In  variety  of  attitude,  and  rapidity  of 
movement,  the  Dutch,  who,  of"  necessity, 
(journey  long  distances  on  their  rivers  and 
canals,  are  greatly  our  superiors. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  36  •  35. 


Sanuarp  23. 

1826.  Hilary  Term  begins. 

LARKING. 

It  appears  that  our  ingenious  neigh- 
bours, the  French,  are  rivalled  by  the 
lark-catchers  of  Dunstaple,  in  the  mode 
of  attracting  those  birds. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

6,  Bermondsey  New  Road- 
Sir,  January  18,  1826. 

In  the  present  volume  of  your  Every- 
Day  Book,  p.  93,  a  correspondent  at  Ab- 
beville has  given  an  account  of  lark- 
shooting  in  that  country,  in  which  he 
mentions  a  machine  called  a  miroir,  as 
having  been  used  for  the  purpose  of  at- 
tracting the  birds  within  shot.  Perhaps 
you  are  not  aware  that  in  many  parts  of 
England  a  similar  instrument  is  employed 
for  catching  the  lark  when  in  flight,  and  at 
Dunstaple.  At  that  place,  persons  go 
out  with  what  is  called  a  larking  glass, 
which  is,  if  I  may  so  term  it,  a  machine 
made  somewhat  in  the  shape  of  a  cucum- 
ber. This  invention  is  hollow,  and  has 
holes  cut  round  it,  in  which  bits  of  look- 
ing-glass are  fitted  ;  it  is  fixed  on  a  pole, 
and  has  a  sort  of  reel,  from  which  a  line 
runs;  this  line,  at  a  convenient  distance,  is 
worked  backward  and  forward,  so  as  to 
catch  the  rays  of  the  sun :  the  larks  seeing 
themselves  in  the  glass,  as  some  think, 
but  more  probably  blinded  by  the  glare 
of  it,  come  headlong  down  to  it,  a  net  is 
drawn  over  them,  and  thus  many  are 
taken,  deceived  like  ourselves  with  glit- 
tering semblances.  Yes  !  lords  as  we  deem 
ourselves  of  the  creation,  we  are  as  easily 
lured  by  those  who  bait  our  passions  or 
propensities,  as  those  poor  birds.  This 
simple  truth  I  shall  conclude  with  the  fol- 
lowing lines,,  which,  be  they  good,  bad, 
or  indifferent,  are  my  own,  and  such  as 
they  are  I  give  them  to  thee  : — 


As  in  the  fowler's  glass  the  lark  espies 

His  feath'ry  form  from  'midst  unclouded  skies; 

And  pleased,  and  dazzled  with  the  novel  sight, 

Wings  to  the  treacherous  earth  his  rapid  flight. 

So,  in  the  glass  of  self  conceit  we  view 

Our  soul's  attraction,  and  pursue  it  too, 


*  Fitzstephen. 

*  Fosbroke's  Diet,  of  Antiquities. 


119  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  24,  25.  12C 

In  every  shape  wherein  it  may  arise, 

In  gold,  or  land,  or  love  before  our  eyes. 

And  in  the  wary  net  are  captive  ta'en, 

By  the  sure  hand  of  woman,  or  of  gain.  S.  R.  Jackson. 

Samiarp  24. 

The  scenes  and   weather  which  some- 

r'ATURALiSTs'  CALENDAR.  times  prevail   on   the  Vigil   of  St.  Paul 
M-  an  Temperature  ...  36  •  57.  are   described   in    some  verses   inserted 
by    Dr.   Forster  in  his  "  Perennial  Ca- 
lendar." 

St.  Pants  Eve. 

Winter's  white  shrowd  doth  cover  all  the  grounde, 

And  Caecias  blows  his  bitter  blaste  of  woe ; 
The  ponds  and  pooles,  and  streams  in  ice  are  bounde, 

And  famished  birds  are  shivering  in  the  snowe. 
Still  round  about  the  house  they  flitting  goe, 

And  at  the  windows  seek  for  scraps  of  foode 
Which  Charity  with  hand  profuse  doth  throwe, 

Right  weeting  that  in  need  of  it  they  stoode, 
For  Charity  is  shown  by  working  creatures'  goode. 

The  sparrowe  pert,  the  chaffinche  gay  and  cleane, 

The  redbreast  welcome  to  the  cotter's  house, 
The  livelie  blue  tomtit,  the  oxeye  greene, 

The  dingie  dunnock,  and  the  swart  colemouse ; 
The  titmouse  of  the  marsh,  the  nimble  wrenne, 

The  bullfinch  and  the  goldspinck,  with  the  king 
Of  birds  the  goldcrest.     The  thrush,  now  and  then. 

The  blackbird,  wont  to  whistle  in  the  spring, 
Like  Christians  seek  the  heavenlie  foode  St.  Paul  doth  bring. 

the  origin  of  this  custom,  is  stated  by  Stow 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR.  to  the  following  purport. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  36  •  60.  Mentioning  the  opinion  already  noticed, 

which,   strange   to  tell,  has  been   urged 

P»  ever  since  his  time,  he  says  in  its  refuta- 

J»  tiorl)  «But   true   it   is    i   have   read   an 

Conversion  of  St.  Paul*  ancient  deed  to  this  effect,"  and  the  "  ef- 

This  Romish  festival  was  first  adopted  fect"  is,  that  in  1274,  the  dean  and  chapter 

by  the  church  of  England   in    the   year  of  St-  Paul  s  granted  twenty-two  acres  of 

1662,  during  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  £nd,  part  of  their  manor  of  Westley,  in 

<,      p       ^  r>  Essex,  to  sir  William  Baud,  knt.,  for  the 

T.      AULS       AY.  purpose  of  being  enclosed  by  him  within 

Buck  and  Doe  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  his  park  of  Curingham  ;  in  consideration 

Formerly  a  buck's  head  was  carried  in  whereof  he  undertook  to  bring  to  them  on 

procession  at  St.  Paul's  Cathedral.  This  the  feast  day  of  the  Conversion  of  St.  Paul, 

by  some  antiquaries  is  presumed  to  have  in  winter,  a  good   doe,   seasonable   and 

been  the  continuation  of  a  ceremony  in  sweet;  and  upon  the  feast  of  the  comme- 

more   ancient  times  when,  according  to  moration  of  St.  Paul  in  summer,  a  good 

certain  accounts,  a  heathen  temple  existed  buck,  and  offer  the  same  to  be  spent  (or 

on  that  site.     It  is  remarkable  that  this  divided)  among  the  canons  resident ;  the 

notion  as  to  the  usage  is  repeated  by  wri-  doe  to  be  brought  by  one  man  at  the  hour 

ters  whose   experience  in    other  respects  of  procession,  and  through  the  procession 

has    obtained  them  v/ell-earned  regard  :  to  the  high  altar,  and  the  bringer  to  have 

nothing ;  the  buck  to  be  brought  by  all 

*  See  vol.  i.  p.  175.  his  men  in  like  manner,  and   they  to  be 


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122 


paid  twelve  pence  only,  by  the  chamber- 
lain of  the  church,  and  no  more  to  be  re- 
quired. For  the  performance  of  this 
annual  present  of  venison,  he  charged  his 
lands  and  bound  his  heirs;  and  twenty 
seven  years  afterwards,  his  son,  sir  Walter, 
confirmed  the  grant. 

The  observance  of  this  ceremony,  as  to 
the  buck,  was  very  curious,  and  in  this 
manner.  On  the  aforesaid  feast-day  of 
the  commemoration,  the  buck  being 
brought  up  to  the  steps  of  the  high  altar 
in  St.  Paul's  church  at  the  hour  of  proces- 
sion, and  the  dean  and  chapter  being  ap- 
parelled in  their  copes  and  vestments, 
with  garlands  of  roses  on  their  heads,  they 
sent  the  body  of  the  buck  to  be  baked; 
and  having  fixed  the  head  on  a  pole, 
caused  it  to  be  borne  before  the  cross  in 
their  procession  within  the  church,  until 
they  issued  out  of  the  west  door.  There 
the  keeper  that  brought  it  blew  "  the 
death  of  the  buck/'  and  then  the  homers 
that  were  about  the  city  answered  him  in 
like  manner.  .For  this  the  dean  and 
chapter  gave  each  man  fourpence  in 
money  and  his  dinner,  and  the  keeper  that 
brought  it  was  allowed  during  his  abode 
there,  meat,  drink  and  lodging,  at  the  dean 
and  chapter's  charges,  and  five  shillings  in 
money  at  his  going  away,  together  with  a 
loaf  of  bread,  with  the  picture  of  St.  Paul 
on  it.  It  appears  also  that  the  granters  of 
the  venison  presented  to  St.  Paul's  ca- 
thedral two  special  suits  of  vestments,  to 
be  worn  by  the  clergy  on  those  two 
days;  the  one  being  embroidered  with 
bucks,  and  the  other  with  does. 

The  translator  of  Dupre's  work  on  the 
"Conformity  between  modern  and  ancient 
ceremonies,"  also  misled  by  other  autho- 
rities, presumed  that  the  "  bringing  up  a 
fat  buck  to  the  altar  of  St.  Paul's  with 
hunters,  horns  blowing,  &c.  in  the  middle 
of  divine  service,"  was  of  heathen  deriva- 
tion, whereas  we  see  it  was  only  a  provi- 
sion for  a  venison  feast  by  the  Romish 
clergy,  in  return  for  some  waste  land  of 
one  of  their  manors. 

NATURALIST'S  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperatare  .  .  .35  -10. 


Sanuarp  26. 

"  St.  George  hf  was  for  England". 

So  says  a  well-known  old  ballad,  and 
we  are  acquainted,  by  the  following  com- 
munication, that  our  patron  saint  still 


appears  in  England,  through  his  personal 
representatives,  at  this  season  of  the  year. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, 

I  send  you  an  account  of  the  Christ- 
mas drama  of  "  St.  George,"  as  acted  in 
Cornwall,  subscribing  also  my  name  and 
address,  which  you  properly  deem  an  in- 
dispensable requisite.  I  thereby  vouch 
for  the  authenticity  of  what  I  send  you. 
Having  many  friends  arid  relations  in  the 
west,  at  whose  houses  I  have  had  fre- 
quent opportunities  of  seeing  the  festi- 
vities and  mixing  in  the  sports  of  their 
farm,  and  other  work-people,  at  the  joy- 
ous times  of  harvest  home,  finishing  the 
barley  mow,  (of  which  more  hereafter  it 
agreeable,)  Christmas,  &c.  In  some  of 
the  latter  it  is  still  customary  for  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house  and  his  guests  to  join  at 
the  beginning  of  the  evening,  though  this 
practice,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  gradually 
wearing  out,  and  now  confined  to  a  few 
places.  I  have  "  footed  if  away  in  sir 
Roger  de  Coverley,  the  hemp-dressers,&c. 
(not  omitting  even  the  cushion  dance,) 
with  more  glee  than  I  ever  slided  through 
the  chaine  anglaise,  or  demi-queue  de  chat, 
and  have  formed  acquaintance  with  the 
master  of  the  revels,  or  leader  of  the  pa- 
rish choir,  (generally  a  shrewd  fellow, 
well  versed  in  song,)  in  most  of  the 
western  parishes  in  Cornwall  ;  and  from 
them  have  picked  up  much  information 
on  those  points,  which  personal  observa- 
tion alone  had  not  supplied  to  my  satis- 
faction. 

You  may  be  sure  that  "St.  George" 
with  his  attendants  were  personages  too 
remarkable  not  to  attract  much  of  my  at- 
tention, and  I  have  had  their  adventures 
represented  frequently ;  from  different 
versions  so  obtained,  I  am  enabled  to 
state  that  the  performances  in  different 
parishes  vary  only  in  a  slight  degree  from 
each  other. 

St.  George  and  the  other  tragic  per- 
formers are  dressed  out  somewhat  in  the 
style  of  morris-dancers,  in  their  shirt- 
sleeves, and  white  trowsers  much  deco- 
rated with  ribands  and  handkerchiefs, 
each  carrying  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand, 
if  they  can  be  procured,  otherwise  a  cud- 
gel. They  wear  high  caps  of  paste- 
board, adorned  with  beads,  small  pieces 
of  looking-glass,  coloured  paper,  &c. ;  se- 
veral long  strips  of  pith  generally  hang 
down  fiom  the  top,  with  small  pieces 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  26. 


124 


of  different  coloured  cloth,  strung  on  them : 
fhe  whole  has  a  very  smart  effect. 

Father  Christmas  is  personified  in  a 
grotesque  manner,  as  an  ancient  man, 
wearing  a  large  mask  and  wig,  and  a 
huge  club,  wherewith  he  keeps  the  by- 
standers in  order. 

The  doctor,  who  is  generally  the  merry- 
andrew  of  the  piece,  is  dressed  in  any  ri- 
diculous way,  with  a  wig,  three-cornered 
hat,  and  painted  face. 

The  other  comic  characters  are  dressed 
according  to  fancy. 

The  female,  where  there  is  one,  is 
usually  in  the  dress  worn  half  a  century 
ago. 

The  hobby-horse,  which  is  a  character 
sometimes  introduced,  wears  a  represent- 
ation of  a  horse's  hide. 

Besides  the  regular  drama  of  "  St. 
George,"  many  parties  of  mummers  go 
about  in  fancy  dresses  of  every  sort,  most 
commonly  the  males  in  female  attire,  and 
vice  versa. 

This  Christmas  play,  it  appears,  is,  or 
was  in  vogue  also  in  the  north  of  Eng- 
land as  well  as  in  Scotland.  A  corres- 
pondent of  yours  (Mr.  Reddock)  has  al- 
ready given  an  interesting  account  of 
that  in  Scotland,  and  a  copy  of  that  acted 
at  Newcastle,  printed  there  some  thirty  or 
forty  years  since,  is  longer  than  any 
I  have  seen  in  the  west.  By  some  the 
play  is  considered  to  have  reference  to 
the  time  of  the  crusades,  and  to  have 
been  introduced  on  the  return  of  the  ad- 
venturers from  the  Holy- Land,  as  typify- 
ing their  battles.  Before  proceeding  with 
our  drama  in  the  west,  I  have  merely  to 
observe  that  the  old  fashion  was  to  conti- 
nue many  of  the  Christmas  festivities  till 
Candlemas-day,  (February  2,)  and  then 
"  throw  cards  and  candlesticks  away.'' 
Battle  of  St.  George. 

[  One  of  the  party  steps  in,  crying  out — 
"  Room,  a  room,  brave  gallants,  room, 

Within  this  court 

I  do  resort, 

To  show  some  sport 

And  pastime, 

Gentlemen  and  ladies,  in  the  Christmas 
time — 

[After  this  note  of  preparation,  old 
Father  Christmas  capers  into  the  room, 
saying, 

Here  comes  I,  old  Father  Christmas, 
Welcome,  or  welcome  not, 

I  hope  old  Father  Christmas 
Will  never  be  forgot. 


I  was  born  in  a  rocky  country,  where 
there  was  no  wood  to  make  me  a  cradle  ; 
I  was  rocked  in  a  stouring  bowl,  which 
made  me  round  shouldered  then,  and  I 
am  round  shouldered  still. 

[He  then  frisks  about  the  room,  until  he 
thinks  he  has  sufficiently  amused  the 
spectators,  when  he  makes  his  exit 
with  this  speech, 

Who  went  to  the  orchard,  to  steal 
apples  to  make  gooseberry  pies  against 
Christmas  ? 

[These  prose  speeches,  you  may  suppose, 
depend  much  upon  the  imagination  of 
the  actor. 

Enter  Turkish  Knight. 
Here  comes  I,  a  Turkish  knight, 
Come  from  the  Turkish  land  to  fight, 
And  if  St..  George  do  meet  me  here 
I'll  try  his  courage  without  fear. 

Enter  St.  George. 
Here  comes  I,  St.  George ; 

that  worthy  champion  bold, 
And,  with  my  sword  and  spear, 

I  won  three  crowns  of  gold. 
I  fought  the  dragon  bold, 

and  brought  him  to  the  slaughter, 
By  that  I  gained  fair  Sabra, 

the  king  of  Egypt's  daughter. 
T.  K.  Saint  George,  I  pray  be  not  too 

bold, 
If  thy  blood   is  hot,   I'll   soon  make   it 

cold. 
St.  G.   Thou  Turkish   knight,  I  pray 

forbear, 

I'll  make  thee  dread  my  swor^J  and  spear. 

[They  fight  until  the  T.  knight  falls. 

St.  G.  I  have  a  little  bottle,  which  goes 

by  the  name  of  Elicumpane, 
If  the  man  is  alive  let  him  rise  and  fight 

again. 

[The  knight  here  rises  on  one  knee,  and 
endeavours  to  continue  the  fight,  but 
is  again  struck  down. 
T.  K.  Oh !  pardon  me,  St.  George,  oh  ! 

pardon  me  I  crave. 
Oh  !  pardon  me  this  once,  and  I  will  be 

thy  slave. 
St.  G.    I'll    never    pardon  a  Turkish 

Knight, 
Therefore  arise,  and  try  thy  might. 

[The    knight    gets  up,  and    they   again 
fight,  till  the  knight  receives  a  heavy 
blow,  and  then  drops  on  the  ground 
as  dead. 
St.  G.  Is  there  a  doctor  to  be  found, 

To  cure  a  deep  and  deadly  wound  ? 


125 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  27. 


126 


hare 


Enter  Doctor. 

Oh  !  yes,  there  is  a  doctor  to  be  found, 
To  cure  a  deep  and  deadly  wound. 
St.  G.  What  can  you  cure  ? 
Doctor.  I  can  cure  the  itch,  the  palsy, 

and  gout, 
If  the  devil's  in  him,  I'll  pull  him  out. 

[  The  Doctor  here  performs  the  cure  with 
sundry  grimaces,  and  St.  George  and 
the  Knight  again  fight,  lohen  the 
latter  is  knocked  down,  and  left  for 
dead. 

(Then  another  performer  enters,  and  on 
seeing  the  dead  body,  says, 

Ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust, 
If  uncle  Tom  Pearce  won't 
Aunt  Molly  must. 

[The   hobby-horse    here    capers 
takes  off  the  body. 

Enter  Old  Squire. 
Here  comes  I,  old,  old  squire, 
As  black  as  any  friar, 
As  ragged  as  a  colt, 
To  leave  fine  clothes  for  malt. 

Enter  Hub  Bub. 

Here  comes  I  old  Hub  Bub  Bub  Bub, 
Upon  my  shoulders  I  carries  a  club, 
And  in  my  hand  a  frying  pan, 
So  am  not  I  a  valiant  man. 

[These  characters  serve  as  a  sort  oj 
burlesque  on  St.  George  and  the 
other  hero,  and  may  be  regarded  in 
the  light  of  an  anti-masque. 

Enter  the  Box-holder. 
Here  comes  I,  great  head  and  little  wit, 
Put  your  hand  in  your  pocket  and  give 

what  you  think  fit. 
Gentlemen  and   ladies,  sitting  down  at 

your  ease, 
Put  your  hands  in  your  pocket*,  give  me 

what  you  please. 
St.  G.  Gentlemen  and  Ladier.  the  sport 

is  almost  ended, 

Come  pay  to  the  box,  it  is  highly  com- 
mended. 
The  box  it  would  speak,  if  it  had  *Hit  a 

tongue ; 
Come  throw  in  your  money,  and  think  U 

no  wrong. 

The  characters  now  generally  finish 
with  a  dance,  or  sometimes  a  song  or  two 
is  introduced.  In  some  of  the  performances, 
two  or  three  other  tragic  heroes  are  brought 
forward,  as  the  king  of  Egypt  and  his 


son,  &c. ;  but  they  are  all  of  them  much 
in  the  style  of  that  I  have  just  described, 
varying  somewhat  in  length  and  number 
of  characters. 

I  am,  Sir, 

Your  constant  reader, 

W.  S. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  36  •  20. 


Sfattuarp  27 


WEIGHTS  AND  MEASURES. 

1826.  The  alteration  of  the  standard 
this  year,  in  order  to  its  uniformity 
throughout  the  kingdom,  however  incon- 
venient to  individuals  in  its  first  applica- 
tion, will  be  ultimately  of  the  highest 
public  advantage.  The  difference  between 
beer,  wine,  corn,  and  coal  measure,  and 
the  difference  of  measures  of  the  same 
denomination  in  different  counties,  were 
occasions  of  fraud  and  grievance  without 
remedy  until  the  present  act  of  parlia- 
ment commenced  to  operate.  In  the 
twelfth  year  of  Henry  VII.  a  standard  was 
established,  and  the  table  was  kept  in  the 
treasury  of  the  king's  exchequer,  with 
drawings  on  it,  commemorative  of  the  re- 
gulation, and  illustrating  its  principles. 
The  original  document  passed  into  the 
collection  of  the  liberal  Harley,  earl  of 
Oxford,  and  there  being  a  print  of  it  with 
some  of  its  pictorial  representations,  an 
engraving  is  here  given  of  the  mode  of 
trial  which  it  exhibits  as  having  been  used 
in  khe  exchequer  at  that  period. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK —JANUARY  27. 


123 


Crial  of  2i2Refgl)ts  anU 


untor  feenrp  VII. 


From  the  same  instrument  is  also  taken 
the  smaller  diagram.  They  are  curious 
specimens  of  the  care  used  by  our  ances- 
tors to  establish  and  exemplify  rules  by 
which  all  purchases  and  sales  were  to  be 
effected.  In  that  view  only  they  are  in- 
troduced here.  Conformity  to  the  new 
stand "i rd  is  every  man's  business  and  in- 


terest, and  daily  experience  will  prove  it? 
wisdom  and  justice.  It  would  be  obvi- 
ously inexpedient  to  state  any  of  the  par- 
liamentary provisions  in  this  work,  which 
now  merely  records  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable and  laudable  acts  in  tne  nistory 
of  oxir  legislation. 


129 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  28. 


ISO 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  37  •  82. 

Sfanuarj)  28, 

An  Appearance  of  the  Season. 
Apology  will  scarcely  be  required 


introducing  a  character,  who  at  this  sea- 
son of  the  year  comes  forth  in  renovated 
honours,  and  may  aptly  be  termed  one  oi 
its  evcr-blues — 


for 


"  The  great  image  of  authority  !" 

Shakspeare. 


not  a  peculiar  of  either  Farnngdons,  nor 
him  of  Cripplegate,  or  St.  Giles  in  the 
Fields,  or  of  any  ward  or  precinct  within 
the  bills  :  not  this  or  that  "  good  man" — 
nut  the  universal  parish  beadle.  "  How 
Christmas  and  consolatory  he  looks  !  how 
redolent  of  good  cheer  is  he  !  He  is  a 
cornucopia — an  abundance.  What  pud- 
ding sleeves! — what  a  collar,  ted,  and 
like  a  beef  steak,  is  his  !  He  is  a  walk- 
VOL.  IT.— 57 


ing  refreshment !  He  looks  like  a  whole 
parish,  full,  important  —  but  untaxed. 
The  children  of  charity  gaze  at  him  with 
a  modest  smile.  The  straggling  boys 
look  on  him  with  confidence.  They  do 
not  pocket  their  marbles.  They  do  not 
fly  from  their  familiar  gutter.  This  is  a 
red-letter  day  ;  and  the  cane  is  reserved 
for  to-morrow." 

For     thft     pleasant     verbal     descrip. 


131 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY 


132 


lion  we  are  indebted  to  an  agreeable 
writer  in  the  "  London  Magazine  j"*  his 
corporal  lineaments  are  "  borrowed" 
(with  permission)  from  a  new  caricature,f 
if  it  may  be  given  so  low  a  name,  wherein 
this  figure  stands  out,  the  very  gem  and 
jewel,  in  a  grouping  of  characters  of  all 
sorts  and  denominations  assembled  with 
"  infinite  fancy"  and  "fun,"  to  illustrate 
the  designer's  views  of  the  age.  It  is 
a  graphic  satire  of  character  rather  than 
caricatura;  mostly  of  class-characters, 
not  persons ;  wherein  the  ridicule  bears 
heavily,  but  is  broad  and  comprehensive 
enough  to  shift  from  one  neighbour  to 
another. 


The  print,  wherein  our  beadle  is  fore- 
most, though  not  first,  is  one  of  the  plea- 
santest "  drolls  "  of  the  century,  and  seems 
to  hit  at  all. that  is.  In  this  whimsical 
representation,  a  painted  show-board, 
at  the  window  of  a  miserable  garret,  de- 
clares it  to  be  "  The  Office  of  the  Peru- 
vian Mining  Company."  On  the  case- 
ment of  the  first  floor,  in  the  same  here- 
ditament of  poverty,  is  a  bill  of  "  Eligant 
rooms  to  let."  Wigs  in  the  shop-win- 
dow illustrate  the  punning  announcement 
above  it — "  Nature  improved  by  Rickets," 
which  is  the  name  of  the  proprietor,  a 
capital  barber,  who  stands  at  the  door, 
and  points  to  a  ragged  inscription  de- 
pending from  the  parti-coloured  pole  of 
his  art,  from  whence  we*  learn  that  "  No- 
body is  to  be  s(  )aved  during  di(  )ine 
service,  by  command  of  the  magistracy." 
He  enforces  attention  to  this  fact  on  an 
unshaved  itinerant,  with  "  Subscription  for 
putting  down  Bartlemy  fair"  placarded  on 
his  back.  This  fellow  has  a  pole  in  his 
right  hand  for  "The  preservation  of  public 
morals,"  and  a  puppet  of  punch  lolling 
from  his  left  coat  pocket.  An  apple-stall 
is  taken  care  of  by  a  fat  body  with  a 
screaming  child,  whose  goods  appear  to 
be  coveted  by  two  little  beings  untutored 
in  the  management  of  the  eye.  We 
gather  from  the  "New  Times,"  on  the 
ground,  that  the  fruit  woman  is  Sarah 
Crumpage,  and  that  she  and  Rickets,  the 
former  for  selling  fruit,  and  the  latter  for 
shaving  on  the  Sunday,  "  were  convicted 


*  For1  December,  1825. 

+  The  Progress  of  Cant ;  designed  and  etched 
by  one.  of  the  authors  of  "Odes  and  Addresses  to 
threat  People  ;"  and  published  by  T.  Maclean, 
irlayniarket,  L.  Relfe,  Cornhill,  and  Dickenson, 
New  Bond-street. 


on  the  oath  of  the  notorious  Johnson,  and 
fined  ten  shillings  each."  Next  to  the 
barber's  is  "  the  Star  eating-house,"  with 
"  Ladies  School "  on  the  first-floor  case- 
ment, and  "  Mangleing  took  in/'  At  the 
angle  of  the  penthouse  roofs  of  these 
dwellings  "  an  angel's  head  in  stone  with 
pigeon's  wings"  deceives  a  hungry  cat 
into  an  attempt  to  commit  an  assault 
upon  it  from  the  attic  window.  Opposite 
the  cook's  door  an  able-bodied  waggoner, 
with  a  pennon  from  his  whip,  inscribed 
"  Knowledge  is  Power,"  obscures  part  of 
another  whereon  all  that  remains  is 
"  NICK'S  INSTITUTION."  A  " steeled  but- 
cher," his  left  hand  resting  at  ease  within 
his  apron,  cleaver  hung,  and  carelessly 
capped,  with  a  countenance  indicating  no 
other  spirit  than  that  of  the  still,  and  no 
disposition  to  study  deeper  than  the  bot- 
tom of  a  porter  pot,  carries  the  flag  of  the 
"  London  University  : "  a  well-fed  urchin, 
his  son,  hangs  by  his  father's  sleeve,  and 
drags  along  a  wheeled  toy,  a  lamb — em- 
blem of  many  a  future  "  lamb  his  riot 
dooms  to  bleed."  A  knowing  little  Jew- 
boy,  with  the  flag  of  the  "  Converted 
Jews,"  relieves  the  standard-bearer  of  the 
"  School  for  Adults"  from  the  weight  of 
his  pocket  handkerchief,  and  his  banner 
hides  the  letter  "  d"  on  another  borne  by 
a  person  of  uneven  temper  in  canonicals, 
and  hence  for  "The  Church  in  danger," 
we  read  "  The  Church  in  anger."  Close 
at  the  heels  of  the  latter  is  an  object  al- 
most as  miserable,  as  the  exceedingly  mi- 
serable figure  in  the  frontispiece  to  the 
"  Miseries  of  Human  Life."  This  rear- 
ward supporter  of  "  the  church  in  dan- 
ger," alias  in  "  anger,"  is  a  poor,  under- 
sized, famine-worn,  badged  charity  boy, 
with  a  hat  abundantly  too  large  for  its 
hydrocephalic  contents,  and  a  coat  to  his 
heels,  and  in  another  person's  shoes,  a 
world  too  wide  for  his  own  feet — he  carries 
a  crooked  little  wand  with  "  No  Po- 
pery "on  it;  this  standard  is  so  low,  that 
it  would  be  lost  if  the  standard-bearer 
were  not  away  from  the  procession.  A 
passionate  person  in  a  barrister's  wig, 
with  a  shillelagh,  displays  "  Catholic 
Claims."  Opposite  to  a  church  partly 
built,  is  a  figure  clearly  designating 
a  distinguished  preacher  of  the  established 
church  of  Scotland  in  London,  planting 
the  tallest  standard  in  the  scene  upright 
on  the  ground,  from  whence  is  unfurled 
"  No  Theatre"— the  flag-bearer  of  "  The 
Caledonian  Chapel,"  stands  behind,  in  the 
act  of  tossing  up  a  halfpenny  with  the 


133 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  28. 


134 


standard  bearer  of  "  No  more  State  Lot- 
teries." A  black  mask  bears  the  "  Liberty 
of  the   Press."       A  well-fed  man  with 
bands  beneath  his  chin,  rears  a  high  pole, 
inscribed  "  No  fat  Livings,"  and  "  The 
cause  of  Greece"  follows.     A  jovial  un- 
dertaker in  his  best  grave-clothes,  raises  a 
mute's  staff,  and  "  No  Life  in  London  :" 
this  character  looks  as  if  he  would  bury 
his  wife  comfortably  in  a  country  church- 
yard, get  into  the  return-hearse  with  his 
companions,  and  crack  nuts   and  drink 
wine  all  the  way  to  town.     A  little  per- 
sonage, booted  and  buttoned  up,  carries  a 
staff  in  his  pocket,  surmounted  by  a  crown, 
and  a  switch  to  his  chin,  the  tip  whereof 
alone  is  visible,  his  entire  face  and  head 
being  wholly  concealed  by  the  hat ;  this 
_s  "  The  great  Unknown" — he  has  close 
behind  him  "  Gall  and  Spurs-him."  "  No 
Treadmill"  is  exhibited  by  a  merry  rogue, 
half  disarmed,  with  a  wooden  leg.     At  a 
public  house,  "  The  Angel   and   Punch 
Bowl,— T.  Moore,"  the  "  United  Sons  of 
Harmony"  hold  wassail ;  their  flag  is  hung 
at  one  of  the  windows,  from  whence  many 
panes    are    absent,  and   themselves   are 
righting  at  the  door,  and  heartily  cheered 
by  the  standard  bearer  of  <(  No  Pugilism." 
A  ferocious  looking  fellow,  riding   on  a 
blind  horse,  elevates  "  Martin  for  Ever," 
and  makes  cruel  cuts  with  his  whip  on  the 
back  of  a  youth  who  is  trying  to  get  up 
behind   him   with   the  banner    of  "  No 
climbing  Boys."  We  are  now  at  a  corner 
messuage,  denominated  "  Prospect  House 
Establishment  for  Young  Ladies,  by  the 
Misses  Grace  and   Prudence  Gregory." 
The  corner   opposite  is   "  Seneca  House 
Academy  for  Young  Gentlemen,  by  Dr. 
Alex.    Sanderson."     Prospect  House  has 
an   "  Assurance"  policy,  and   from  one 
of  its  windows  one  of  the  "  young  ladies" 
drops  a  work  by   "  H.  More" — in  eager 
regard  of  one  of  the  "  young  gentlemen"  of 
Seneca-house,  who  addresses  her  from  his 
room,  with  a  reward  of  merit  round  his 
neck.  This  Romeoing   is   rendered  more 
scenical  by  a  tree,  whereon  hangs  a  lost 
kite,   papered   with  a    "  Prospectus"   of 
Seneca-house,    from   whence   it   appears 
that  pupils  bringing  a  "  knife  and  fork," 
and  paying  "Twenty  Guineas  per  ann.," 
are  entitled   to  "  Universal    Erudition," 
and  the  utmost  attention  to  their  "  Morals 
and    Principles."     Near   this   place,  the 
representative  of  "  United  Schools"  fells 
to  the  earth  the  flag-bearer  of  "  Peace  to 
the  World  ;"  while  the  able  supporter  of 
"  Irish  Conciliation/'  endeavours  to  settle 


the  difference  by  the  powerful  use  of  his 
pole;  the  affray  being  complacently 
viewed  by  a  half-shod,  and  half-kilted 
maintainev  of  "  Scotch  Charity.''  A 
demure  looking  girl  is  charged  with 
"  Newgatory  Instruction."  At  her  elbow, 
a  female  of  the  order  of  disorder,  so 
depicted  that  Hogarth  might  claim  her  for 
his  own,  upholds  "  Fry  for  ever,*'  and  is 
in  high,  converse  with  a  sable  friend  who 
keeps  "  Freedom  for  the  Blacks."  Hope- 
less idiocy,  crawling  on  its  knees  by  the 
aid  of  crutches,  presents  the  "  March  of 
Mind."  An  excellent  slippered  fruiterer 
with  a  tray  of  apples  and  pears,  beguiles 
the  eyes  of  a  young  Gobbleton,  who  dis- 
plays "  Missionary  penny  subscriptions," 
and  is  suffering  his  hand  to  abstract 
wherewithal  for  the  satisfaction  of  his 
longings.  Here  too  are  ludicrous  repre- 
sentations of  the  supporters  of  "  White- 
field  and  Wesley,"  «  Reform,"  &c.  and  a 
Jewish  dealer  in  old  clothes,  covered  in  du- 
plicate, with  the  pawnbroker's  sign  upside 
down,finds  wind  for  "The  Equitable  Loan." 
A  wall  round  Seneca-house  is  "  contrived  a 
double  debt  to  pay" — proffering  seem- 
ing security  to  the  "  sightless  eyeballs"  of 
over-fond  and  over-fearful  parents,  and 
being  of  real  use  to  the  artist  for  the  ex- 
pression of  ideas,  which  the  crowding  of 
his  scene  does  not  leave  room  to  picture. 
This  wall  is  duly  chalked  and  covered  by 
bills  in  antithesis.  A  line  of  the  chalkings, 
by  an  elision  easily  supplied,  reads,  "'Ask 
for  War."  One  of  the  best  exhibitions  in  the 
print  is  a  youth  of  the  "Tract  Society , "with 
a  pamphlet  entitled  "Eternity,"  so  rolled 
as  to  look  like  a  pistol,which  he  tenders  to  a 
besotted  brute  wearing  candidates'  favours 
in  his  hat,  and  a  scroll  f{  Purity  of  Elec- 
tion." The  villainous  countenance  of  the 
intoxicated  wretch  is  admirable — a  cudgel 
under  his  arm,  his  tattered  condition,  and 
a  purse  hanging  from  his  pocket,  tell  that 
he  has  been  in  fight,  and  received  the 
wages  of  his  warfare ;  in  the  last  stage  of 
drunkenness  he  drops  upon  a  post  inscrib- 
ed "under  Government."  Among  books 
strewed  on  the  ground  are  "Fletcher's  Ap- 
peal," "Family  Shakspeare,"  "  Hohen- 
lohe,"  &c. ;  at  the  top  is  a  large  volume 
lettered  "  Kant,"  which,  in  such  a  situa- 
tion, Mr.  Wirgman,  and  other  disciples 
of  the  German  philosopher,will  only  quai- 
rel  or  smile  at,  in  common  with  all  who 
conceive  their  opinions  or  intentions  mis- 
represented. In  truth  it  is  only  because 
the  print  is  already  well  known  among 
the  few  lynx-eyed  observers  of  manneis 


i35 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  29. 


130 


that  this  notice  is  drawn  up.  Its  satire, 
however  well  directed  in  many  ways,  is 
too  sweeping  to  be  just  every  way,  and 
is  in  several  instances  wholly  undeserved. 
The  designer  gives  evidence  however  of 
great  capability,  and  should  he  execute 
another  it  will  inevitably  be  better  than 
this,  which  is,  after  all,  an  extraordi- 
nary production. — In  witness  whereof, 
and  therefrom,  is  extracted  and  prefixed 
the  "  Beadle"  hereinbefore  mentioned. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  36  •  37. 


29. 


1826.  Sexageslma  Sunday. 

Accession  of  George  IV. 

1820.  King  George  III.  died.  A  con- 
temporary kalendarian,  in  recording  this 
memorable  fact,  observes,  that  "  the  slow 
and  solemn  sound  of  St.  Paul's  bell  an- 
nounced the  event  a  short  time  after,  and 
was  heard  to  a  great  distance  around  the 
country."  He  adds,  that  he  was  remind- 
ed, by  this  "  mournful  proclamation  of 
departed  royalty,"  of  the  following  lines 
in  Heywood's  "  Rape  of  Lucrece," 
written  to  go  to  a  funeral  peal  from  eight 
hells  ; 

Come  list  and  hark,  the  bell  doth  *oll 
For  some  but  now  departing  soul, 
Whom  even  now  those  ominous  fowle, 
The  bat,  the  nightjar,  or  screech  owl, 
Lament  ;    hark  1  I  hear   the   wilde  wolfe 

howle 

In  this  black  night  that  seems  to  scowle, 
All  these  my  black  book  shall  euscrole. 
For  hark  !  still  still  the  bell  doth  toll 
For  some  but  now  departing  soul. 

This  opportunity  the  same  agreeable 
writer  improves  to  discourse  on,  thus  : 

Bells. 

The  passing  bell  owes  its  origin  to  an 
idea  of  sanctity  attached  to  bells  by  the 
early  Catholics,  who  believed  that  the 
sound  of  these  holy  instruments  of  per- 
cussion actually  drove  the  devil  away 
from  the  soul  of  the  departing  Christian. 
Bells  were  moreover  regarded  formerly  as 
dispelling  storms,  and  appeasing  the  ima- 
gined wrath  of  heaven,  as  the  following- 
liens  from  Barnaby  Googe  will  show  :  — 


If  that  the  thunder  chaunee  to  rore 

and  stormie  tempest  shake, 
A  woonder  is  it  for  to  see 

the  wretches  howe  they  quake, 
Howe  that  no  fayth  at  all  they  have, 

nor  trust  in  any  thing, 
The  clarke  doth  all  the  belles  forthwith 

at  once  in  steeple  ring  : 
With  wondrous  sound  and  deeper  farre 

than  he  was  woont  before, 
Till  in  the  loftie  heavens  darke, 

the  thunder  bray  no  more. 
For  in  these  christned  belles  they  thinke, 

doth  lie  such  powre  and  might 
As  able  is  the  tempest  great, 

and  storme  to  vanquish  quight. 
I  saw  myself  at  Numburg  once, 

a  towne  in  Toring  coast, 
A  bell  that  with  this  title  bolde 

hirself  did  prowdly  boast: 
By  name  I  Mary  called  am, 

with  sound  I  put  to  flight 
The  thunder  crackes,  and  hurtfull  stormes, 

and  every  wicked  spright. 
Such  things  when  as  these  belles  can  do, 

no  wonder  certainlie 
It  is,  if  that  the  papistes  to 

their  tolling  always  flie, 
When  haile,  or  any  raging  storme, 

or  tempest  comes  in  sight, 
Or  thunder  boltes,  or  lightning  fierce, 

that  every  place  doth  smight. 

Naogeorgus, 

We  find  from  Brand,  that  "  an  old 
bell  at  Canterbury  required  twenty-four 
men,  and  another  thirty-two  men,  ad  so- 
nandum.  The  noblest  peal  of  ten  bells, 
without  exception,  in  England,  whether 
tone  or  tune  be  considered,  is  said  to  be 
in  St.  Margaret's  church,  Leicester. 
When  a  full  peal  was  rung,  the  ringers 
were  said  «  pulsare  classicum.'  " 

Bells  were  a  great  object  of  supersti  - 
tion  among  our  ancestors.  Each  of  them 
was  represented  to  have  its  peculiar  name 
and  virtues,  and  many  are  said  to  have 
retained  great  affection  for  the  churches 
to  which  they  belonged,  and  where  they 
were  consecrated.  When  a  bell  was  re- 
moved from  its  original  and  favourite  si- 
tuation, it  was  sometimes  supposed  to 
take  a  nightly  trip  to  its  old  place  of  re- 
sidence, unless  exercised  in  the  evening, 
and  secured  with  a  chain  or  rope.  Mr 
Wainer,  in  his  "  Hampshire,"  enume- 
rates the  virtues  of  a  bell,  by  translating 
two  lines  from  the  "  Helpe  to  Discourse." 

Men's  deaths  I  tell  by  doleful  knell. 
Lightning  and  thunder  I  break  asunder. 
On  sabbath  all  to  church  I  call. 


137 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY   29. 


138 


The  sleepy  head  1  raise  from  bed. 
The  winds  so  fierce  I  doe  disperse. 
Men's  cruel  rage  I  do  asswage. 

There  is  an  old  Wiltshire  legend  of 
a  tenor  bell  having  been  conjured  into 
the  river;  with  lines  by  the  ringer,  who 
lost  it  through  his  pertinacious  garrulity, 
and  which  say  : 

In  spite  of  all  the  devils  in  hell 

Here  comes  our  old  Bell.* 


Baron  Hoi  berg  says  he  was  in  a  com- 
pany of  men  of  letters,  where  several  con- 
jectures were  offered  concerning  the  origin 
of  the  word  campana  ;  a  klocke,  (i.  e.  bell) 
in  the  northern  tongues.  On  his  return 
home,  he  consulted  several  writers.  Some, 
he  says,  think  the  word  klocke  to  be  of 
the  northern  etymology  ;  these  words,  Ut 
cloca  habeatur  in  ecclesia,  occurring  in  the 
most  ancient  histories  of  the  north.  It  ap- 
pears from  hence,  that  in  the  infancy  of 
Christianity,  the  word  cloca  was  used  in 
the  north  instead  of  campana.  Certain 
french  writers  derive  the  word  cloca  from 
cloche,  and  this  again  from  docker,  i.  e. 
to  limp ;  for,  say  they,  as  a  person  who 
limps,  falls  from  one  side  to  the  other,  so 
do  klocks  (bells)  when  rung.  Some  have 
recourse  to  the  latin  word  clangor,  others 
recur  to  the  greek  /coAew,  I  call;  some 
even  deduce  it  from  the  word  cochlea,  a 
snail,  from  the  resemblance  of  its  shell  to 
a  bell.  As  to  the  latin  word  campana,  it 
was  first  used  in  Italy,  at  Nola  in  Cam- 
pania; and  it  appears  that  the  greater 
bells  only  were  called  campana,  and  the 
lesser  nola.  The  invention  of  them  is 
generally  attributed  to  bishop  Paulinus ; 
but  this  certainly  must  be  understood 
only  of  the  religious  use  of  them  ;  it  being 
plain,  from  Roman  writers,  that  they  had 
the  like  machines  called  tintinnabula. 

The  use  of  bells  continued  long  un- 
known in  the  east,  the  people  being  called 
to  public  worship  by  strokes  of  wooden 
hammers ;  and  to  this  day  the  Turks  pro- 
claim the  beginning  of  their  service,  by 
vociferations  from  the  steeple.  Anciently 


*  Dr.  Forster's  Perennial  Calendar. 


priests  themselves  used  to  toll  the  bell, 
especially  in  cathedrals  and  great 
churches,  and  these  were  distinguished  by 
the  appellation  of  campanarii.  The 
Roman  Catholics  christen  their  bells,  and 
godfathers  assist  at  the  solemnity ;  thus 
consecrating  them  to  religious  use.  Ac  • 
cording  to  Helgaudus,  bells  had  certain 
names  given  them  like  men ;  and  Ingul- 
phus  says,  "  he  ordered  two  great  clocks 
(bells)  to  be  made,  which  were  called 
Bartholomeus  and  Bettelinus,  and  two 
lesser,  Pega  and  Bega."  The  time  is 
perhaps  uncertain  when  the  hours  first 
began  to  be  distinguished  by  the  striking 
of  a  bell.  In  the  empire  this  custom  is 
said  to  have  been  introduced  by  a  priest 
of  Ripen,  named  Elias,  who  lived  in  the 
twelfth  century ;  and  this  the  Chronicon 
Anonymi  Ripense  says  of  him,  hie  dies  et 
horas  campanarum  pulsatione  distinxt*. 
The  use  of  them  soon  became  extended 
from  their  original  design  to  other  solem- 
nities, and  especially  burials  :  which  in- 
cessant tolling  has  long  been  complained 
of  as  a  public  nuisance,  and  to  this  the 
french  poet  alludes  : — 
Pour  honorer  les  morts,  ils  font  mourir  les 
vivans. 

Besides  the  common  way  of  tolling 
bells,  there  is  also  ringing,  which  is  a  kind 
of  chimes  used  on  various  occasions  in 
token  of  joy.  This  ringing  prevails  in  no 
country  so  much  as  in  England,  where  it 
is  a  kind  of  diversion,  and,  for  a  piece  of 
money,  any  one  may  have  a  peal.  On 
this  account  it  is,  that  England  is  called 
the  ringing  island.  Chimes  are  some- 
thing very  different,  and  much  more  mu- 
sical ;  there  is  not  a  town  in  all  the  Nether- 
lands without  them,  being  an  invention  of 
that  country.  The  chimes  at  Copenhagen, 
are  one  of  the  finest  sets  in  all  Europe ; 
but  the  inhabitants,  from  a  pertinacious 
fondness  for  old  things,  or  the  badness  of 
their  ear,  do  not  like  them  so  well  as  the 
old  ones,  which  were  destroyed  by  a  con- 
flagration. 

The  Rev.  W.  L.  Bowles  has  an  effusion 
agreeably  illustrative  of  feelings  on  hear- 
ing the  bells  ring. 


SONNET. 


Written  at  Ostend,  July  22, 1787. 

How  sweet  the.  tuneful  bells  responsive  peal ! 

As  when  at  opening  morn,  the  fragrant  breeze 
Breathes  on  the  trembling  sense  of  wan  disease 

>o  piercing  to  my  heart  their  force  1  feel ! 


139  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK—JANUARY  29.  140 

And  hark !  with  lessening  cadence  now  they,  fall, 

And  now,  along  the  white  and  level  tide, 

They  fling  their  melancholy  music  wide ; 
Bidding  me  many  a  tender  thought  recall 
Of  summer  days,  and  those  delightful  years 

When  by  my  native  streams,,  in  life's  fair  prime, 

The  mournful  magic  of  their  mingling  chime 
First  wak'd  my  wondering  childhood  into  tears  ! 
But  seeming  now,  when  all  those  days  are  o'er, 
The  sounds  of  joy  once  heard,  and  heard  no  more. 

"  The  Times"*  has  a  literary   cones-  a  parish  bell,"  it  has  occurred  to  me  that 

pondent,  who  communicates  information  the  following  description  of  the  practice 

that  it  may  be  useful  to  record.  of  baptizing  bells,   used  by  the  Roman 

CONSECRATION  OF  BELLS.  Catholics    may  not  be  unacceptable  to 

your   readers.     This   account   is   a   true 

To   the  Editor  of  the   Times.  translation  from  a  book  entitled  "  Ppnti- 

MB.   EDITOR, — Having  read   in   your  ficale    Romanum,    Auturitate  Pontificia, 

paper  of  to-day,  that  the  king  of  France  impressum  Venetiis,  1698.     Lib.  it.  Cap. 

"  has  been  pleased  to  grant  to  the  parish  de  Benedictwne  Signi  vel  Campance"    I 

of  Notre-Dame,  at   Nismes,  two  unser-  have  run  parallel  with  their  method    01 

viceable  pieces  of  cannon  from  the  arsenal  baptizing  children  and  bells,  in   twelve 

of  Montpelliei,  for  the  purpose  of  forming  particulars,  as  follows : — 

Of  the  Baptism  of  a  Child.   •  Of  the  Baptism  of  a  Bell. 

I. 

The  child  must  be  first  baptized,  before        The  bell  must  be  first  baptized,  before 
it  can  be  accounted  one  of  the  church.  it  may  be  hung  in  the  steeple. 

II. 

The  child  must  be  baptized  by  a  priest        The  bell  must  be  baptized  by  a  bishop 
or  a  minister.  or  his  deputy. 

III. 

In  baptizing  a  child  there  is  used  holy        In  the  baptism  of  a  bell,  there  is  used 
water,  cream,  salt,  oil,  spittle,  &c.  &c.          holy  water,  oil,   salt,  cream,  tapers   for 

lights,  &c. 
IV 
In  baptism,  the  child  receiveth  a  name.        And  so  it  is  in  the  baptism  of  bells. 

V. 

The  child  must  have  godfathers,  &c.,        The  bell  must  have  godfathers,  and  they 
&c.  must  be  persons  of  great  rank. 

VI. 
The  child  must  be  washed  in  water.  The  bell  must  be  washed  in  water  by 

the  hands  of  the  bishop  and  priests. 
VII. 
The  child  must  be  crossed  in  baptism.         The  bell  is  solemnly  crossed  by  the 

bishop. 
VIII. 
The  child  must  be  anointed.  The  bell  is  anointed  by  the  bishop. 

IX. 

The  child  must  be  baptized  in  the  name        The   bell  is  washed  and   anointed,   in 
of  the  Holy  Trinity.  the  name  of  the  Trinity,  by  the  bishop. 

X. 

At  baptism  iney  pray  for  the  child.  At  the  baptism  of  the  bell  they  pray 

literally  for  the  bell. 


*  Sept.  17, 1»16. 


141 


THE  EVEilY-DAY  BOOK — JANUARY  29. 


142 


At  the  child's  baptism  the  scriptures  There  are  more  psalms  read  at  the  bap- 
are  read  tism  of  a  bell  than  at  the  baptism  of  a 

child  ;  and  a  gospel  also. 

XII. 

At  child-baptism  there  are  public  At  the  baptism  of  a  bell  there  are  more 
prayers  made.  prayers  used,  and  (excepting  salvation) 

greater  things  are  prayed  for,  and  more 

blessings  on  the  bell,  than  on  the  child.  But  for  the  better  proof  of  this  point,  I  shall 
here  give  part  of  one  of  the  very  curious  prayers  put  up  for  the  bell  at  its  baptism  : — 

Lord  grant  that 'wheresoever  this  holy  bell,  thus  washed  (or  baptized) 

and  blessed,  shall  sound,  all  deceits  of  Satan,  all  danger  of  whirlwind,  thunders, 
lightnings,  and  tempests,  may  be  driven  away,  and  that  devotion  may  increase  in 
Christian  men  when  they  hear  it.  O  Lord,  sanctify  it  by  thy  Holy  Spirit ;  that  when 
it  sounds  in  thy  people's  ears  they  may  adore  Thee  !  May  "their  faith  and  devotion 
increase,  the  devil  be  afraid,  and  tremble  and  fly  at  the  sound  of  it.  O  Lord,  pour 
upon  it  thy  heavenly  blessing !  that  the  fiery  darts  of  the  devil  may  be  made  to  fly 
backwards  at  the  sound  thereof;  that  it  may  deliver  from  danger  of  wind  and 
thunder,  &c.,  &c.  And  grant,  Lord,  that  all  that  come  to  the  church  at  the  sound  of 
it,  may  be  free  from  all  temptations  of  the  devil.  O  Lord,  infuse  into  it  the  heavenly 
dew  of  thy  Holy  Ghost,  that  the  devil  may  always  fly  away  before  the  sound  of 
it,  &,c.,  &c. 


The  doctrine  of  the  church  of  Rome 
concerning  bells  is,  first,  that  they  have 
merit,  and  pray  God  for  the  living  and 
the  dead ;  secondly,  that  they  produce 
devotion  in  the  hearts  of  believers;  thirdly, 
tfiat  they  drive  away  storms  and  tempests ; 
and,  fourthly,  that  they  drive  away  devils. 

The  dislike  of  evil  spirits  to  the  sound 
of  bells,  is  extremely  well  expressed  by 
Wynkin  de  Worde,  in  the  Golden  Legend : 
— "  It  is  said,  the  evil  spiry  tes  that  ben  in 
the  region  of  th*  ayre,  doubte  moche  when 
they  here  the  belles  rongen :  and  this  is 
the  cause  why  the  belles  ringen  whan  it 
thondreth,  and  whan  grete  tempeste  and 
to  rages  of  wether  happen,  to  the  ende 
that  the  feinds  and  wycked  spiry  tes  should 
ben  abashed  and  flee,  and  cease  of  the 
movynge  of  tempeste." 

As  to  the  names  given  to  bells,  I  beg 
leave  to  add,  that  the  bells  of  Little 
Dunmow  Priory,  in  Essex,  new  cast  A.  D. 
1501,  were  baptized  by  the  following 
names  : — 

Prima  in  honore  Sancti  Michaelis 
Arcliangeli. 

Secunda  in  honore  S.  Johannis  Evan- 
gelisti. 

Tertia  in  honore  S.  Johannis  Baptisti. 

Quarta  in  honore  Assumptionis  beatae 
Maries. 

Quinta  in  honore  Sancti  Trinitatis,  et 
omnium  Sanctorum. 

In  the  clochier  near  St.  Paul's  stood  the 
»ur  greatest  bells  in  Bngland,  called 
Jesus' s  bells ;  against  these  sir  Miles 


Partridge  staked  100/.,  and  won  them  of 
Henry  VIII.  at  a  cast  of  dice. 

I  conclude  with  remarking,  that  the 
Abb6  Cancellieri,  of  Rome,  lately  pub- 
lished a  work  relative  to  bells,  wherein  he 
has  inserted  a  long  letter,  written  by 
Father  Ponyard  to  M.  de  Saint  Vincens, 
on  the  history  of  bells  and  steeples.  The 
Abbe"  wrote  this  dissertation  on  the  occa- 
sion of  two  bells  having  been  christened,, 
which  were  to  be  placed  within  the  tower 
of  the  capitol. 

I  am,  sir, 
Your  obedient  servant, 

Sept.  11.  R.  H,  E. 

R.  H.  E.  "wise  and  good"  as  he  was, 
and  he  was  both — he  is  now  no  more — 
would  not  willingly  have  misrepresented 
the  doctrines  of  the  Romish  church, 
though  he  abhorred  that  hierarchy.  It 
seems,  however,  that  he  may  be  mistaken 
in  affirming,  that  the  Romish  church 
maintains  of  bells  that  "  they  have  merit, 
and  pray  God  for  the  living  and  the 
dead."  His  affirmation  on  this  point  may 
be  taken  in  too  extensive  a  sense :  It  is 
no  doubt  a  Romish  tenet  that  there  is 
"  much  virtue  in  bells,"  but  the  precise 
degree  allowed  to  them  at  this  period,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  determine  without 
the  aid  of  a  council. 


At  Hatherleigh,  a  small  town  in  Devon, 
exist  two  remarkable  customs : — one,  that 


143 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  30. 


144 


every  morning  and  -evening,  soon  after 
the  church  clock  has  struck  five  and  nine, 
a  bell  from  the  same  steeple  announces 
by  distant  strokes  the  number  of  the  day 
of  the  month — originally  intended,  per- 
tiaps,  for  the  information  of  the  unlearned 
villagers  :  the  other  is,  that  after  a  funeral 
the  church  bells  ring  a  lively  peal,  as  in 
other  places  after  a  wedding;  and  to  this 
custom  the  parishioners  are  perfectly  re- 
conciled by  the  consideration  that  the 
deceased  is  removed  from  a  scene  of 
trouble  to  a  state  of  rest  and  peace. 

When  Mr.  Colman  read  his  Opera  of 
"Inkle  and  Yarico"  to  the  late  Dr. 
Mosely,  the  Doctor  made  no  reply  during 
the  progress  of  the  piece.  Af  the  con- 
clusion, Colman  asked  what  he  thought 
of  it.  "It  won't  do,"  said  the  Doctor, 
"  Stuff—  nonsense."  Every  body  else 
having  been  delighted  with  it,  this  de- 
cided disapprobation  puzzled  the  circle  ; 
he  was  asked  why  ?  "  I'll  tell  you  why," 
answered  the  Critic;  "you  say  in  the 
finale — 

'  Now  let  us  dance  and  sing, 
While  all  Barbadoe's  bells  do  ring/ 
It  won't  do — there  is  but  one  bell  in  all 
the  island !" 

With  a  citation  from  the  poet  of  Erin, 
the  present  notice  will  "ring  out"  de- 
lightfully. 

Evening  Bells. 

Those  evening  bells,  those  evening  bells, 
How  many  a  tale  their  music  tells, 
Of  youth  and  home,  and  that  sweet  time 
Since  last  I  heard  their  soothing  chime. 

Those  joyous  hours  are  passed  away, 
And  many  a  friend  that  then  was  gay, 
Within  the  tomb  now  darkly  dwells, 
And  hears  no  more  those  evening  bells. 

And  so  'twill  be  when  I  am  gone, 
That  tuneful  peal  will  still  ring  on, 
While  other  bards  shall  walk  these  dells, 
And  sing  thy  praise,  sweet  evening  bells  ! 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  36  •  64. 


Sfanuarp  30. 

King   Charles's  Martyrdom,  1644. — Holi- 
day at  the  Public  Offices,  1826. 
It  is  recorded  that,  after  King  Charles 
the  First  received  sentence  of  death,   on 


Saturday  the  27th,  he  spent  the  next  day 
in  devout  exercises.  He  refused  to  see 
his  friends,  and  ordered  them  to  be  told, 
that  his  time  was  precious,  and  the  best 
thing  they  could  do  was  to  pray  for  him. 
On  Monday  the  29thy  his  children  were 
brought  to  take  their  leave  of  him,  viz. 
the  lady  Elizabeth  and  the  duke  of  Glou- 
cester. He  first  gave  his  blessing  to  the 
lady  Elizabeth,  bidding  her  that  when 
she  should  see  her  brother  James,  she 
should  tell  him  that  it  was  his  father's 
last  desire  that  he  should  no  more  look 
upon  his  brother  Charles  as  his  eldest 
brother  only,  but  be  obedient  to  him  as 
his  sovereign;  and  that  they  should  love 
one  another,  and  forgive  their  father's 
enemies.  The  king  added,  "  Sweetheart, 
you  will  forget  this."  "  No,"  said  she, 
"  I  shall  never  forget  it  as  long  as  I  live." 
He  bid  her  not  grieve  and  torment  herself 
for  him  ;  for  it  would  be  a  glorious  death 
he  should  die,  it  being  for  the  laws  and 
liberties  of  this  land,  and  for  maintaining 
the  true  Protestant  religion.  He  recom- 
mended to  her  the  reading  of  "  Bishop 
Andrews's  Sermons,"  "  Hooker's  Ecclesi- 
astical Polity,"  and  "  Archbishop  Laudrs 
Book  against  Fisher."  He  further  tolji 
her,  that  he  had  forgiven  all  his  enemies, 
and  hoped  God  would  likewise  forgive 
them.  He  bade  her  tell  her  mother,  that 
his  thoughts  had  never  strayed  from 
her,  and  that  his  love  should  be  the  same 
to  the  last.  After  this  he  took  the  duke 
of  Gloucester,  being  then  a  child  of  about 
seven  years  of  age,  upon  his  knees,  saying 
to  him,  "  Sweetheart,  now  they  will  cut 
off  thy  father's  head :"  upon  which  the 
child  looked  with  great  earnestness  upon 
him.  The  king  proceeding,  said,  "  Mark, 
child,  what  I  say,  they  will  cut  off'  my 
head,  and  perhaps  make  thee  a  king :  but 
mark  what  I  say,  you  must  not  be  a  king 
so  long  as  your  brothers  Charles  and  James 
do  live ;  for  they  will  cut  offyour  brothers' 
heads  when  they  can  catch  them,  and  cut 
off  thy  head  too  at  last :  and  therefore  I 
charge  you  do  not  be  made  a  king  by 
them."  At  which  the  child  fetched  a 
deep  sigh,  and  said,  "  I  will  be  torn  in 
pieces  first."  Which  expression  falling 
from  a  child  so  young,  occasioned  no 
little  joy  to  the  king.  This  day  the  war- 
rant for  execution  was  passed,  signed  by 
fifty-nine  of  the  judges,  for  the  king  to 
die  the  next  day,  between  the  hours  of 
ten  in  the  morning  and  five  in  the  after- 
noon. 

On  the  30th,  "The  king  having  arrived 


143 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK—JANUARY  30. 


146 


at  the  place  of  execution,  made  a  long 
address  to  colonel  Tomlinson ;  and  after- 
wards turning  to  the  officers,  he  said, 

*  Sirs,  excuse  me  for  this  same  :    I  have  a 
good  cause  and  a  gracious  God :  I  will 
say  no  more.'      Then  turning  to  colonel 
Hacker,  he  said,    '  Take  care  that  you  do 
not  put  me  to  pain  ;'    and   said,    '  This 
and  please  you — '      A  gentleman  coming 
near  the  axe,  he  said,     'Take  heed  of  the 
axe — pray  take  heed  of  the  axe.'      Then 
speaking  to  the   executioner    (who   was 
masked)  he  said,    '  I  shall  say  but  very 
short   prayers,  and  when  I  thrust  out  my 
hands — .'       Then   he  asked  the   bishop 
for  his  cap,  which,  when  he  had  put  on, 
he  said  to  the  executioner,     '  Does  my 
hair  trouble  you?'    who  desiring  it  might 
be  all  put  under  his  cap,  it  was  put  up 
by  the  bishop  and  executioner.     Turning 
to  the  bishop,  he  said,    « I  have  a  good 
cause,  and  a  gracious  God  on  my  side.' 
To  which  the  bishop  answered,    *  There 
is  but   one   stage   more,   which,  though 
turbulent  and    troublesome,  yet  it   is   a 
very  short  one ;  it  will  soon  carry  you  a 
very  great  way.     It  will  carry  you  from 
earth  to  heaven  ;  and  there  you  will  find, 
to  your  great  joy,  the  prize  you  hasten 
to, — a  crown  of  glory.'      The  king  added, 

*  I  go  from  a  corruptible  to  an  incorrupti- 
ble crown,  where  no  disturbance  is,  no 
disturbance  in  the  world.'      The  bishop 
replied,      'You  are   exchanged   from   a 
temporal  to  an  eternal  crown,  a  good  ex- 
change.'    Then  the  king  asked  the  exe- 
cutioner  if  his    hair  was    well.       After 
which,  putting  off  his  cloak,  doublet,  and 
his  George,   he   gave   the  latter   to   the 
bishcp,    saying,     'Remember.'        After 
this  he  put  on  his   cloak  again  over  his 
waistcoat,  inquiring  of  the  executioner  if 
the  block  was  fast,  who  answered  it  was. 
He  then  said,    '  I  wish  it  might  have  been 
a  little   higher.'      But  it  was  answered 
him,  it  could  not  be  otherwise  now.    The 
king  said,  *  When   I  put  out  my  hands 
this  way,  then—.'       He    prayed  a  few 
words  standing,  with  his  hands  and  eyes 
lift  up  towards  heaven,  and  then  stooping 
down,  laid  his  neck  on  the  block.     Soon 
after  which  the  executioner  putting  some 
of  his  hair  under  his  cap,  the  king  thought 
he  had  been  going  to  strike,  bade  him 
stay  for  the  sign.     After  a  little  time  the 
king  stretched  forth  his   hand,  and   the 
executioner    took    off   his   head   at  one 
stroke.     When  his   head    was  held   up, 
and  the  people  at  a  distance  knew  the 
fatal   stroke  was  over,  there  was  nothing 


to  be  heard  but  shrieks,  and  groans,  and 
sobs,  the  unmerciful  soldiers  beating 
down  poor  people  for  this  little  tender  of 
their  affection  to  their  prince,  Thus  died 
the  worthiest  gentleman,  the  best  master, 
the  best  friend,  the  best  husband,,  the 
best  father,  and  the  best  Christian,' that 
the  age  in  which  he  lived  produced."* 


Sir  Philip  Warwick,  an  adherent  to 
this  unfortunate  king,  says,  "  His  de- 
portment was  very  majestic;  for  he 
would  not  let  fall  his  dignity,  no  not  to 
the  greatest  foreigners  that  came  to  visit 
him  and  his  court :  for  though  he  was  far 
from  pride,  yet  he  was  careful  of  majesty, 
and  would  be  approached  with  respect 
and  reverence.  His  conversation  was 
free  ;  and  the  subject  matter  of  it,  on  his 
own  side  of  the  court,  was  most  commonly 
rational ;  or  if  facetious,  not  light.  With 
any  artist  or  good  mechanic,  traveller,  or 
scholar,  he  would  discourse  freely;  and 
as  he  was  commonly  improved  by  them, 
so  he  often  gave  light  to  them  in  their 
own  art  or  knowledge:  for  there  were 
few  gentlemen  in  the  world  that  knew 
more  of  useful  or  necessary  learning  than 
this  prince  did;  and  yet  his  proportion 
of  books  was  but  small,  having,  like 
Francis  the  First  of  France,  learnt  more 
by  the  ear  than  by  study.  His  way  of 
arguing  was  very  civil  and  patient;  for 
he  never  contradicted  another  by  his  au- 
thority, but  by  his  reason  ;  nor  did  he  by 
petulant  dislike  quash  another's  argu- 
ments; and  he  offered  his  exception  by 
this  civil  introduction,  *  By  your  favour, 
Sir,  I  think  otherwise,  on  this  or  that 
ground;'  yet  he  would  discountenance 
any  bold  or  forward  address  unto  him. 
And  in  suits,  or  discourses  of  business,  he 
would  give  way  to  none  abruptly  to 
enter  into  them,  but  looked  that  the 
greatest  persons  should  in  affairs  of  this 
nature  address  to  him  by  his  proper  mi- 
nisters, or  by  some  solemn  desire  of  speak- 
ing to  him  in  their  own  persons.  His 
exercises  were  manly,  for  he  rid  the  great 
horse  very  well ;  and  on  the  little  saddle 
he  was  not  only  adroit,  but  a  laborious 
hunter,  or  field-man.  He  had  a  great 
plainness  in  his  own  nature,  and  yet  he  was 
thought,  even  by  his  friends,  to  love  too 
much  a  versatile  man  ;  but  his  experience 
had  thoroughly  weaned  him  from  this  at 

*  Clarendon. 


147 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  30. 


148 


Jast.  He  kept  up  the  dignity  of  his  court, 
limiting  persons  to  places  suitable  to  their 
qualities,  unless  he  particularly  called  for 
them.  Besides  the  -tfomen  who  attended 
on  his  beloved  queen  and  consort,  the 
lady  Henrietta  Maria,  sister  of  the  French 
king,  he  scarcely  admitted  any  great  offi- 
cer to  have  his  wife  in  the  family.  His 
exercises  of  religion  were  most  exem- 
plary; for  every  morning  early,  and 
evening,  not  very  late,  singly  and  alone, 
in  his  own  bed-chamber,  or  closet,  he 
spent  some  time  in  private  meditation, 
(for  he  dared  reflect  and  be  alone,)  and 
through  the  whole  week,  even  when  he 
went  to  hunt,  he  never  failed,  before  he 
sat  down  to  dinner,  to  have  part  of  the 
liturgy  read  to  him  and  his  menial  ser- 
vants, came  he  ever  so  hungry  or  late  in: 
and  on  Sundays  and  Tuesdays  he  came, 
commonly  at  the  beginning  of  service,well 
attended  by  his  court  lords  and  chief  at- 
tendants, and  most  usually  waited  on  by 
many  of  the  nobility  in  town,  who  found 
those  observances  acceptably  entertained 
by  him.  His  greatest  enemies  can  deny 
none  of  this  ;  and  a  man  of  this  modera- 
tion of  mind  could  have  no  hungry  appe- 
tite to  prey  upon  his  subjects,  though  he 
had  a  greatness  of  mind  not  to  live  preca- 
riously by  them.  But  when  he  fell  into 
the  sharpness  of  his  afflictions,  (than 
which  few  men  underwent  sharper,)  I 
dare  say  I  know  it,  (I  am  sure  conscien- 
tiously I  say  it,)  though  God  dealt  with 
him,  as  he  did  with  St.  Paul,  not  remove 
the  thorn,  yet  he  made  his  grace  sufficient 
to  take  away  the  pungency  of  it ;  for  he 
made  as  sanctified  an  use  of  his  afflic- 
tions as  most  men  ever  did.  As  an  evi- 
dence of  his  natural  probity, whenever  any 
young  nobleman  or  gentleman  of  quality 
who  was  going  to  travel,  came  to  kiss  his 
hand,  he  cheerfully  would  give  them 
some  good  counsel  leading  to  moral  vir- 
tue, especially  a  good  conversation ;  tell- 


ing them,  that  if  he  heard  they  kept  good 
company  abroad,  he  should  reasonably 
expect  they  would  return  qualified  to 
serve  their  king  and  country  well  at 
home ;  and  he  was  careful  to  keep  the 
youth  in  his  time  uncorrupted.  The 
king's  deportment  at  his  trial,  which  be- 
gan on  Saturday  the  20th  of  January, 
1648,  was  very  majestic  and  steady  ;  and 
though  usually  his  tongue  hesitated,  yet 
at  this  time  it  was  free,  for  he  was  never 
discomposed  in  mind ;  and  yet,  as  he 
confessed  himself  to  bishop  Juxon,  who 
attended  him,  one  action  shocked  him 
very  much  ;  for  whilst  he  was  leaning  in 
the  court  upon  his  staff,  which  had  a  head 
of  gold,  the  head  broke  off  on  a  sudden: 
he  took  it  up,  but  seemed  unconcerned  ; 
yet  told  the  bishop,  it  really  made  a  great 
impression  on  him ;  and  to  this  hour 
(says  he)  I  know  not  possibly  how  it 
should  come.  It  was  an  accident  I  my- 
self have  often  thought  on,  and  cannot 
imagine  how  it  came  about ;  unless  Hugh 
Peters,  who  was  truly  and  really  his 
gaoler,  (for  at  St.  James's  nobody  went 
to  him  but  by  Peters's  leave,)  had  artifi- 
cially tampered  upon  his  staff.  But  such 
conjectures  are  of  no  use/' 


In  the  Lansdowne  collection  of  MSS. 
a  singular  circumstance  before  the  battle 
of  Newbury  is  thus  related  : — 

"  The  king  being  at  Oxford  went  one 
day  to  see  the  public  library,  where  he 
was  shown,  among  other  books,  a  Virgil. 
nobly  printed  and  exquisitely  bound. 
The  lord  Falkland,  to  divert  the  king, 
would  have  his  majesty  make  a  trial  of 
his  fortune  by  the  sortes  Pirgiliana, which 
every  body  knows  was  not  an  unusual  kind 
of  augury  some  ages  past.  Whereupon 
the  king  opening  the  book,  the  period  . 
which  happened  to  come  up  was  part  of 
Dido's  imprecation  against  .ZEneas, 
which  Mr.  Dryden  translates  thus  : — 

Yet  let  a  race  untamed,  and  haughty  foes, 

His  peaceful  entrance  with  dire  arms  oppose ; 

Oppressed  with  numbers  in  th'  unequal  field, 

His  men  discouraged  and  himself  expelled, 

Let  him  for  succour  sue  from  place  to  place, 

Torn  from  his  subjects  and  his  sons'  embrace, 

First  let  him  see  his  friends  in  battle  slain, 

And  their  untimely  fate  lament  in  vain  ; 

And  when  at  length  the  cruel  war  shall  cease, 

On  hard  conditions  may  he  buy  his  peace. 

Nor  let  him  then  enjoy  supreme  command, 

But  fall  untimely  by  some  hostile  hand, 

And  lie  unburied  on  the  barren  sand. 

b,  iv.  ).  88. 


149 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  30. 


150 


"  It  is  said,  king  Charles  seemed  con- 
cerned at  this  accident,  and  that  the  lord 
Falkland  observing  it,  would  likewise  try 
his  own  fortune  in  the  same  manner, 
hoping  he  might  fall  upon  some  passage 
that  could  have  no  relation  to  his  case, 
and  thereby  divert  the  king's  thoughts 
from  any  impression  the  other  might  have 


upon  him  But  the  place  that  Falkland 
stumbled  upon  was  yet  more  suited  to 
his  destiny*  than  the  other  had  been  to 
the  king's ;  being  the  following  expres- 
sions of  Evander  upon  the  untimely 
death  of  his  son  Pallas,  as  they  are  trans- 
lated by  the  same  hand  : — 


0  Pallas  !  thou  hast  failed  thy  plighted  word 
To  fight  with  caution,  not  to  tempt  the  sword  ; 

1  warned  thee,  but  in  vain  ;  for  well  I  knew 
What  perils  youthful  ardour  would  pursue. 
That  boiling  blood  would  carry  thee  too  far ; 
Young  as  thou  wert  in  dangers — raw  in  war ! 
O  curst  essay  in  arms, — disastrous  doom, — 
Prelude  of  bloody  fields  and  fights  to  come. 


JEneid,  b.  xi.  1.  230. 


Remarkable  30th  of  January  Sermon. 

On  the  30th  of  January,  1755,  the  rev. 
John   Watson,  curate  of  Ripponden,  in 
Yorkshire,     preached    a    sermon     there 
which    he   afterwards    published.       The 
title-page  states  it  as   "  proving  that  king 
Charles  I.  did   not   govern   like  a   good 
king  of  England  "     He  also  printed  "An 
Apology  for   his  Conduct  yearly   on  the 
30th  of  January."     In    these    tracts  he 
says,  "  For  some  years  last  past  I  have 
preached  on  the  30th  of  January,  and  my 
labours  were  employed  in   obviating  the 
mistakes  which  I  knew  some  of  my  con- 
gregation entertained  with  regard  to  the 
character   of   king    Charles    I.;  and   in 
proving  that  if  it  was  judged  rebellion  in 
those  who  took  up  arms  against  that  un- 
fortunate prince,  who  had  made  so  many 
breaches   in  the  constitution,  it  must  be 
an  aggravation  of  that  crime,  to  oppose 
the  just  and  wise  measures  of  the  present 
father  of  his  country,  king  George.     The 
chief  reason  for  publishing  the  sermon  is 
to  confute  a  commonly  received  opinion 
that  I  applauded  therein  the  act   of  cut- 
ting off  the  king's   head,  which  any  one 
may  quickly  see  to  be  without  foundation. 
For  when  I  say  that  the  resistance  he  met 
with  was  owing  to  his  own  mal-adrninis- 
tration,  nothing   else  can  be  meant  than 
the  opposition  he  received  from  a  wise, 
brave,   and  good  parliament : — not  that 
shown  him  by  those  furious  men  who  de- 
stroyed both  the  parliament  and  him,  and 
•whose  conduct  I  never  undertook  to  vin- 
dicate.    It  has  been  observed  that  I  al- 
ways provide  a  clergyman  to  read  prayers 
for  me  on  the  30th  of  January ;  but  not 
to  read  that  service  is  deemed   criminal, 
because  in  subscribing  the  36th  canon  I 


obliged  myself  to  use  the  form  prescribed 
in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer.  The 
office  for  the  30th  of  January  is  no  part  of 
the  Liturgy  of  the  church  of  England. 
By  the  liturgy  of  the  church  I  mean  the 
contents  of  The  Book  of  Common  Prayer 
and  Administration  of  the  Sacraments, 
and  other  Rites  and  Ceremonies  of  the 
Church,  &c.,  established  by  the  act  of 
uniformity,  in  the  year  1662;  and  what- 
ever has  been  added  since,  I  suppose  no 
clergyman  ever  bound  himself  by  sub- 
scription to  use ;  the  reason  is  because 
the  law  requires  no  more." 

Mr.  Watson  then  says,  on  the  autho- 
rity of  Wheatly,  in  his  "  Illustration  of 
the  Common  Prayer,"  Johnson  in  his 
"Clergyman's  Vade  Mecum,"  and  the 
author  of  "The  Complete  Incumbent," 
that  the  services  for  the  30th  of  January 
and  the  29th  of  May  are  not  confirmed 
by  act  of  parliament,  and  that  penalties 
do  not  attach  for  the  non-celebration  01 
the  service  on  those  days.  "  I  cannot  in 
conscience  read  those  prayers/'  says  Wat- 
son, "wherein  the  king  is  called  a  Martyr. 
I  believe  the  assertion  to  be  false,  and 
therefore  why  should  I  tell  a  lie  before 
the  God  of  Truth !  What  is  a  martyr  ? 
He  is  a  witness,  for  so  the  word  in  the 
original  imparts.  Robert  Stephens  tells 
us,  that  they  are  martyrs  who  have  died 
giving  a  testimony  of  divinity  to  Christ ; 
but  if  this  be  true  king  Charles  can  be  no 
martyr,  for  he  was  put  to  death  by  those 
who  believed  in  the  divinity  of  Christ  as 
well  as  he.  What  were  the  grounds  then 
for  giving  him  this  glorious  title?  his 
dying  rather  than  give  up  episcopacy  ?  I 
think  lord  Clarendon  hath  proved  the 
contrary  :  he  "consented  to  suspend  epis- 


Lord  Falkland  engaged  in  a  thoughtleM  skirmish  and  perished  in  it. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  30. 


152 


oopacy  for  three  years,  and  that  money 
should  be  raised  upon  the  sale  of  the 
church  lands,  and  only  the  old  rent  should 
be  reserved  to  the  just  owners  and  their 
successors.  My  charity  leads  me  so  far, 
that  I  hope  king  Charles  meant  well  when 
he  told  the  princess  Elizabeth  that  he 
should  die  a  martyr,  and  when  he  repeat- 
ed it  on  the  scaffold.  But  this  might  be 
nothing  else  but  a  pleasing  deception  of 
the  mind ;  and  if  saying  that  he  died  a 
martyr  made  him  such,  then  the  duke  of 
Monmouth  also  was  the  same,  for  he  died 
with  the  same  words  in  his  mouth,  which 
his  grandfather,  king  Charles,  had  used 
before.  King  Charles  II.  seems  to  have 
had  no  such  opinion  of  the  matter ;  for 
when  a  certain  lord  reminded  his  majesty 
of  his  swearing  in  common  discourse,  the 
king  replied,  'Your  martyr  swore  more 
than  ever  I  did,'  which  many  have  deem- 
ed a  jest  upon  the  title  which  his  father 
had  got.  In  fact,  we,  of  this  generation, 
should  never  have  judged,  that  he  who 
swore  to  preserve  the  religion,  laws,  and 
liberties  of  his  country  inviolate,  and  yet 
broke  through  every  one  of  these  re- 
straints— that  he,  who  put  an  English 
fleet  into  the  hands  of  the  French  to  crush 
the  protestants  there,  who  were  struggling 
to  maintain  their  religion  and  liberties — 
that  he,  who  contrary  to  the  most  solemn 
promises,  did  sacrifice  the  protestant  in- 
terest in  France — that  he,  who  concurred 
with  Laud  in  bringing  the  church  of  Eng- 
land to  a  kind  of  tivalship,  for  ornaments, 
&c.,  with  the  church  of  Rome — that  he, 
who  could  consent,  when  he  married  the 
French  king's  daughter,  that  their  chil- 
dren were  to  be  educated  by  their  mother 
until  thirteen  years  of  age — that  he,  who 
gave  great  church  preferments  to  men 
who  publicly  preached  up  popish  doc- 
trines ;  and  that  protected  known  papists 
from  the  penalties  of  the  law,  by  taking 
several  very  extraordinary  steps  in  their 
behalf — that  he,  who  permitted  an  agent, 
or  a  kind  of  nuncio  from  Rome,  to  visit 
the  court  publicly,  and  bestowed  such 
offices  as  those  of  lord  high  treasurer,  se- 
cretary of  state,  chancellor  of  the  exche- 
quer, &c.,  on  papists — that  he,  who  by 
proclamation  could  command  the  Lord's 
day  to  be  profaned  (for  I  can  call  it  no 
'ess)  by  revels,  plays,  and  many  sorts  of 
ill-timed  recreations,  punishing  great 
numbers  of  pious  clergymen  for  refusing 
to  publish  what  their  consciences  forbad 
them  to  read  :  and  to  name  no  more—- 
that he,  who  could  abet  the  Irish  massa- 


cre, wherein  above  three  hundred  thou- 
sand protestants  were  murdered  in  cold 
blood,  or  expelled  out  of  their  habitations. 
( Vide '  Temple's  Irish  Rebellion,'  page  6  ) 
I  say,  we,  at  this  period  of  time,  should 
not  have  thought  such  a  one  worthy  to  be 
deemed  a  martyr  for  the  cause  of  protest- 
antism ;  but  that  it  has  been  a  custom  in 
the  church  for  near  a  century  to  call  him 
so.  However,  it  is  time  seriously  to  con- 
sider whether  it  is  not  proper  to  correct 
this  error ;  at  least,  it  should  be  shown  to 
be  no  error  if  we  must  keep  it,  for,  at 
present,  many  of  the  well-meaning  mem- 
bers of  the  church  are  offended  at  it." 

The  writer  cited,  goes  on  to  observe, 
"  My  second  objection  against  reading 
this  service  is,  that  I  judge  it  to  be  con- 
trary both  to  reason  and  the  contents  of 
the  Bible,  to  say  that  '  the  blood  of  king 
Charles  can  be  required  of  us  or  our  pos- 
terity/ There  is  not,  I  suppose,  one  man 
alive  who  consented  to  the  king's  death. 
We  know  nothing  of  it  but  from  history, 
therefore  none  of  us  were  concerned  in 
the  fact ;  with  what  reason  then  can  it  be 
averred  that  we  ought  to  be  responsible 
for  it,  when  it  neither  was  nor  is  in  our 
power  to  prevent  it.  But  what  if  we  dis- 
claim the  sins  of  our  forefathers,  or  are  the 
posterity  of  those  who  fought  for  the  king, 
are  wex  still  to  be  in  danger  of  suffering  ? 
Such  seems  to  be  the  doctrine  of  this  ser- 
vice, where  all,  without  exception,  are 
called  upon  to  pray  that  they  '  may  be 
freed  from  the  vengeance  of  his  righteous 
blood.'  I  could  prove,  from  undoubted 
records,  that  the  family  I  came  from  were 
royalists  ;  but  I  think  it  sufficient  to  say, 
that  I  never  did  nor  ever  will  consent, 
that  a  king  shall  be  beheaded,  or  other- 
wise put  to  death ;  therefore  let  others  say 
what  they  will,  I  look  upon  myself  to  be 
innocent,  and  why  should  I  plead  with 
God  as  if  I  thought  myself  guilty  ?  But 
we  are  told  that  they  *  were  the  crying 
sins  of  this  nation  which  brought  down 
this  heavy  judgment  upon  us/  I  think  it 
is  more  clear,  that  a  series  of  ill-judged 
and  ill-timed  acts,  on  the  part  of  the  king, 
brought  him  into  the  power  of  his  oppos- 
ers,  and  that,  afterwards,  the  ambition  of 
a  few  men  led  him  to  the  scaffold.  Let 
it  only  be  remembered,  that  at  the  be- 
ginning of  his  reign  he  entered  into  a  war 
for  the  recovery  of  the  Palatinate  against 
the  consent  of  his  parliament ;  and  when 
he  could  not  get  them  to  vote  him  money 
enough  for  his  purpose  he  extorted  it  ille- 
gally from  his  subjects ;  refusing  to  join 


153 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  30. 


154 


the  parliament  in  redressing  the  grievan- 
ces of  the  nation ;  often  threatening  them ; 
and  even  counteracting  their  designs ; 
which,  at  last,  bred  so  many  disputes, 
that  he  overstepped  all  bounds,  and  had 
the  misprudence  to  attempt  the  seizing  of 
five  members  in  the  house ;  on  which  the 
citizens  came  down  by  land  and  water, 
with  muskets  on  their  shoulders,  to  defend 
the  parliament :  soon  after  which  so  great 
a  distrust  arose  between  the  two  houses 
and  him,  that  all  likelihood  of  agreement 
wholly  ceased.  This  was  the  cause 
whereon  to  make  war — sending  the  queen 
to  Holland  to  buy  arms,  himself  retiring 
from  the  capital,  and  soon  after  erecting 
his  standard  at  Nottingham.  Not  suc- 
ceeding, he  was  made  prisoner,  and  when 
many  expected  his  restoration,  a  violent 
opposition  in  the  army  broke  forth  ;  a 
design  was  formed  to  change  the  mo- 
narchy into  a  republic,  and  to  ttys,  and 
nothing  else,  he  fell  a  sacrifice.  If  the 
real  cause  of  the  king's  death  was  the 
wickedness  of  those  times,  does  it  not 
follow  that  his  death  was  permitted  by 
God  as  a  punishment  for  that  wicked- 
ness ;  and  if  so,  why  should  we  fear  that 
God  will  still  visit  for  it  ?  Will  the  just 
and  merciful  Judge  discharge  his  ven- 
geance on  two  different  generations  of 
men  for  the  offences  committed  by  one  ? 
Such  doctrine  as  this  should  be  banished 
from  every  church,  especially  a  Christian 
one ;  for  it  has  no  foundation  in  reason 
or  revelation."  The  reasons  of  this  cler- 
gyman of  the  established  church  for  his 
dissent  from  the  established  usage  are  still 
further  remarkable. 

Mr.  Watson  states  other  objections  to 
this  service.  "  In  the  hymn  used  instead 
of  Venite  exultetnus,  it  is  said,  They  fought 
against  him  without  a  cause :  the  con- 
trary of  which,  when  it  is  applied  to  king 
Charles,  I  think  has  been  owned  by  every 
historian.  The  parliament  of  England 
were  always  more  wise  and  good,  than  to 
raise  armies  against  the  kings  who  gave 
them  no  occasion  to  do  so ;  and  I  cannot 
but  entertain  this  favourable  opinion  of 
that  which  began  to  sit  in  the  year  1640. 
There  is  nothing  more  true  than  that  the 
king  wanted  to  govern  by  an  arbitrary 
power.  His  whole  actions  showed  it,  and 
he  could  never  be  brought  to  depart  from 
this.  Either,  therefore,  his  people  must 
have  submitted  to  the  slavery,  or  they 
must  have  vindicated  their  freedom 
openly  ;  there  was  no  middle  way.  But 
should  they  have  tamely  received  the 


yoke  ?  No,  surely  ;  for  had  they  done 
so,  they  had  deserved  the  worst  of  evils  ; 
and  the  bitter  effects  thereof,  in  all  pro- 
bability, had  not  only  been  derived  to  us, 
but  our  posterity.  Happy  Britons,  thaT 
such  a  just  and  noble  stand  was  made ! 
May  the  memories  of  those  great  patriots 
that  were  concerned  in  it  be  ever  dear  to 
Englishmen  ;  and  to  all  true  Englishmen 
they  will ! 

"  In  the  same  hymn  it  is  likewise  af- 
firmed that  False  witnesses  rose  up  against 
him,  and  laid  to  his  charge  things  that  he 
knew  not.  Which  on  this  occasion  cannot 
be  truly  said,  because  as  the  chief  fact  to 
be  proved  was  the  king's  being  in  arms,  it 
cannot  be  supposed  that  out  of  more  than 
200,000  men  who  had  engaged  with  him, 
a  sufficient  number  of  true  witnesses  could 
be  wanting.  What,  therefore,  Mr.  Wheatly 
could  think  when  he  said  that  his  hymn  is 
as  solemn  a  composure,  and  as  pertinent 
to  the  occasion  as  can  be  imagined  or 
contrived,  I  cannot  tell.  I  am  sure  a 
broad  hint  is  given  therein,  that  the  clergy 
in  king  Charles's  time  were  a  set  of  wicked 
people,  and  that  it  was  through  their  un- 
righteousness, as  well  as  that  of  the  laity, 
that  the  king  lost  his  life.  The  words  are 
these,  *  For  the  sins  of  the  people,  and 
the  iniquities  of  the  priests,  they  shed  the 
blood  of  the  just  in  the  midst  of  Jeru- 
salem.' Let  those  defend  this  passage 
who  are  able,  for  I  own  myself  incapable 
of  doing  it  consistently." 

Mr.  Watson  says,  "  I  am  not  by  myself 
in  thinking  that  this  service  for  the  30th  of 
January  needs  a  review;  many  sensible, 
worthy  men  think  further — that  it  is  time 
to  drop  it ;  for  they  see  that  it  is  unsea- 
sonable now,  and  serves  no  other  end  than 
as  a  bone  of  contention  in  numberless 
parishes,  preventing  friendship,  and  good 
will  being  shown  towards  such  of  the 
clergy  as  cannot  in  all  points  approve  of 
it;  excepting  that  (as  I  have  found  by 
experience)  it  tends  to  make  bad  subjects. 
A  sufficient  argument  this,  was  there  no 
other,  why  it  should  either  be  altered,  or 
taken  away  ;  but  I  presume  not  to  dictate ; 
and,  therefore,  I  urge  this  no  further: 
had  I  not  a  sincere  regard  for  the  church 
of  England,  I  should  have  said  less  ;  but 
notwithstanding  any  reports  to  the  con- 
trary, I  declare  myself  to  be  a  hearty 
well-wisher  to  her  prosperity.  Did  I  not 
prefer  her  communion  to  that  of  any  other; 
I  would  instantly  leave  her,  for  I  am  not 
so  abandoned  as  to  play  the  hypocrite 
that  I  detest,  and  have  often  detested  it 


155 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  30. 


to  my  great  loss.  But  I  am  not  of  that 
opinion,  that  it  is  for  the  interest  of  the 
church  to  conceal  her  defects;  on  the 
contrary,  I  think  I  do  her  the  greatest 
service  possible  by  pointing  them  out,  so 
that  they  may  be  remedied  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  all  good  men.  She  ought  not  to 
be  ashamed  of  the  truth,  and  falsehood 
will  never  hurt  her." 

It  appears  that  Mr.  Watson's  conduct 
obtained  much  notice;  for  he  preached 
another  sermon  at  Halifax,  entitled  "  Mo- 
deration ;  or  a  candid  disposition  towards 
those  that  differ  from  us,  recommended 
and  enforced."  This  he  also  printed, 
with  the  avowed  view  of  "  promoting 
of  that  moderation  towards  all  men  which 
becometh  us  as  Christians,  is  the  orna- 
ment of  our  profession,  and  which  we 
should  therefore  labour  to  maintain,  as 
we  desire  to  walk  worthy  of  the  vocation 
wherewith  we  are  called,  with  all  lowli- 
ness and  meekness,  with  long  suffering, 
forbearing  one  another  in  love,  endeavour- 
ing to  keep  the  unity  of  the  spirit  in  the 
bond  of  peace."  He  proceeds  to  observe 
in  this  discourse,  that  "  whoever  reflects 
upon  the  nature  of  human  constitutions, 
will  readily  allow  the  impossibility  of  per- 
fection in  any  of  them  ;  and  whoever  con- 
siders the  mutability  of  human  things, 
will  grant  that  nothing  can  be  so  well 
devised,  or  so  sure  established,  which,  in 
continuance  of  time,  will  not  be  corrupted. 
A  change  of  circumstances,  to  which  the 
best  constituted  state  is  liable,  will  require 
such  alterations  as  once  would  have  been 
needless  :  and  improvement  of  observa- 
tion will  demand  such  regulations  as 
nothing  else  could  have  discovered  to  have 
been  right.  Of  this  the  wise  founders  of 
the  established  church  of  England  were 
very  sensible;  they  prudently  required 
no  subscription  to  perfection  in  the  church, 
well  knowing  that  they  but  laid  the  foun- 
dation stone  of  a  much  greater  building 
than  they  could  live  to  see  completed. 
The  Common  Prayer,  since  it  was  first 
properly  compiled," in  the  year  1545,  has 
undergone  sixteen  alterations,  as  defects 
became  visible,  and  offence  was  thereby 
given  to  the  promoting  of  separations  and 
divisions:  noble  examples  these — fit  for 
the  present  age  to  imitate  !  for,  as  ninety 
years  have  elapsed  since  the  last  review, 
this  experienced  age  has  justly  discovered 
that  the  amendments,  at  that  time  made, 
were  not  sufficient.  I  could  produce  you 
many  instances  ;  but  I  forbear ;  for  I  am 


very  sensible  how  tender  a  point  I  am 
discussing.  However,  I  cannot  but  ob- 
serve, that  for  my  own  part,  upon  the 
maturest  arid  most  sober  consideration,  I 
take  him  to  be  a  greater  friend  to  Chris- 
tianity in  general,  and  to  this  church  in 
particular,  who  studies  to  unite  as  many 
dissenters  as  may  be  to  us,  by  a  reason- 
able comprehension,  than  he  who  is 
against  it." 

It  is  urged  by  Mr  Watson,  that  the 
church  of  England  herself  does  not  claim 
a  perfection  which  is  insisted  upon  as  her 
distinguishing  quality  by  some  of  her 
over  zealous  advocates.  He  says,  "  The 
first  reformers  were  wise  and  good  men, 
but  the  Common  Prayer  they  published 
was  little  better  than  popery  itself;  many 
indeed  have  been  the  alterations  in  it 
made  since  then ;  but  as,  through  the 
unripeness  of  the  times,  it  never  had  any 
but  imperfect  emendations,  we  may  rea- 
sonably suppose  it  capable  of  still  further 
improvements."  Deeming  the  service  ap- 
pointed for  this  day  as  inappropriate,  and 
referring  to  suggestions  that  were  in  his 
time  urged  upon  public  attention  for  a 
review  of  the  liturgy,  he  proceeds  to  say, 
"  There  may  be  men  at  work  that  misre- 
present this  good  design ;  that  proclaim, 
as  formerly,  the  church's  danger  ;  but  let 
no  arts  like  these  deceive  you ;  they  must 
be  enemies  in  disguise  that  do  it,  or  such 
who  have  not  examined  what  they  object 
to  with  sufficient  accuracy.  What  is 
wished  for,  your  own  great  Tillotson  him- 
self attempted  :  this  truly  valuable  man, 
with  some  others  but  little  inferior  to  him- 
self, being  sensible  that  the  want  of  a 
sufficient  review  drew  many  members 
from  the  church,  would  have  compromised 
the  difference  in  a  way  detrimental  to  no 
one,  beneficial  to  all ;  and  had  he  not 
been  opposed  by  some  revengeful  zealots, 
had  certainly  completed  what  all  good 
men  have  wished  for." 

The  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book 
has  Mr.  Watson's  private  copies  of  these 
printed  tracts,  with  manuscript  additions 
and  remarks  on  them  by  Mr.  Watson 
himself.  It  should  seem  from  one  of  these 
notes,  in  his  own  hand-writing,  that  his 
opinions  were  not  wholly  contemned. 
Regarding  his  latter  discourse,  he  observes 
that  "  the  late  Dr.  Sharp,  archdeacon  cf 
Northumberland,  in  a  pamphlet,  called 
'  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the  Use  and  Im- 
portance of  External  Religion;'  quotes 
this  sentence,  "  Where  unity  and  peace  are 


157 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  30. 


153 


disregarded,  devotion  must  be  so  too,  as  it 
were  by  natural  consequences.  I  have  bor- 
rowed these  words  from  a  sermon  preached 
at  Halifax,  by  John  Watson,  A.  M.,  which, 
if  any  man,  who  has  sixpence  to  spare, 
will  purchase,  peruse,  and  lay  to  heart,  he 
will  lay  out  his  time  and  his  money  very 
well."  Archdeacon  Sharp  was  father  of 
the  late  Granville  Sharp,  the  distinguished 
philanthropist  and  hebraist. 

Mr.  Watson  was  born  at  Presburg,  in 
Cheshire,  and  educated  at  Brazen  Nose  col- 
lege, Oxford,  where  he  obtained  a  fellow- 
ship. He  wrote  a  History  of  Halifax,  in 
2vols.  4to.,  1775;  and  a  History  of  the 
Warren  Family,  by  one  of  whom  he  was 
presented  to  the  rectory  of  Stockport,  where 
he  died,  aged  59  years  He  also  wrote  a 
review  of  the  large  Moravian  hymn  book, 
and  several  miscellaneous  pieces.  There 
is  a  portrait  of  him  by  Basire. 

By  those  who  believe  that  Charles  was 
"  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood/'  and 
that  the  guilt  "  of  his  blood"  is  an  entail 
upon  the  country  not  yet  cut  off,  it  may 
be  remarked  as  a  curious  fact,  that  at 
about  that  season,  eighty  years  after  the 
king  "  bowed  his  head"  on  the  scaffold  at 
Whitehall,  it  was  "  a  very  sickly  time." 
It  is  recorded,  that  in  1733  "  people  were 
afflicted  this  month  with  a  head-ach  and 
fever  which  very  few  escaped,  and  many 
died  of;  particularly  between  Tuesday, 
the  twenty-third,  and  Tuesday,  the  thir- 
tieth of  January,  there  died  upwards  of 
fifteen  hundred  in  London  and  Westmin- 
ter."*  On  the  twenty-third  of  January, 
1649,  the  king  having  peremptorily  de- 
nied the  jurisdiction  of  the  court,  the  pre- 
sident, Bradshaw,  "  ordered  his  contempt 
to  be  recorded :  on  the  thirtieth  of  January 
he  was  beheaded."  During  these  days, 
and  the  intervening  ones,  the  fatal  Lon- 
don head-ach  prevailed  in  1733. 

On  the  second  of  March,  1772  Mr. 
Montague  moved  in  the  house  of  com- 
mons to  have  so  much  of  the  act  of  12th 
C.  II.  c%  30,  as  relates  to  the  ordering 
the  thirtieth  of  January  to  be  kept  as  a 
day  of  fasting  and  humiliation,  to  be  re- 
pealed. His  motive  he  declared  to  be,  to 
abolish,  as  much  as  he  could,  any  absur- 
dity from  church  as  well  as  state.  He 
said  that  he  saw  great  and  solid  reasons 
for  abolishing  the  observation  of  that  day, 


and  hoped  that  it  was  not  too  harsh  a 
name  to  be  given  to  the  service  for  the 
observation  of  that  day,  if  he  should  brand 
it  with  the  name  of  impiety,  particularly 
in  those  parts  where  Charles  I.  is  likened 
to  oar  Saviour.  On  a  division,  there  being 
for  the  motion  97,  and  against  it  125,  it 
was  lost  by  a  majority  of  27. 


The  Calves-head  Club. 

On  the  30th  of  January,  1735,  certain 
young  noblemen  and  gentlemen  met  at  a 
French  tavern  in  Suffolk-street,  (Charing 
Cross,)  under  the  denomination  of  the 
"  Calves-head  Club."  They  had  an  en- 
tertainment of  calves'  heads,  some  of 
which  they  showed  to  the  mob  outside, 
whom  they  treated  with  strong  beer.  In 
the  evening,  they  caused  a  bonfire  to  be 
made  before  the  door,  and  threw  into  it 
with  loud  huzzas  a  calf's-head  dressed 
up  in  a  napkin.  They  also  dipped  their 
napkins  in  red  wine,  and  waved  them 
from  the  windows,  at  the  same  time 
drinking  toasts  publicly.  •  The  mob  huz- 
zaed as  well  as  "  their  betters," — but 
at  length  broke  the  windows,  and  became 
so  mischievous  that  the  guards  were  called 
in  to  prevent  further  outrage.* 

These  proceedings  occasioned  some 
verses  in  the  "  Grub-street  Journal," 
wherein  are  the  following  lines  : — 

Strange  times !    when   noble   peers   secure 

from  riot 

Cann't  keep  Noll's  annual  festival  in  quiet. 
Through    sashes   broke,   dirt,    stones    and 

brands  thrown  at  em, 
Which,    if    not     scand     was     brand-alum- 

magnatum — 
Forced   to  run    down   to   vaults  for  safer 

quarters, 
And  in  cole-holes,   their   ribbons  hide  and 

garters. 
They   thought,   their  feast  in    dismal   fray 

thus  ending, 
Themselves  to   shades   of    death  and  hell 

descending : 

This  might    have  been,  had   stout   Clare- 
market  mobsters 
With  cleavers  arm'd,  outmarch'd  St. James's 

lobsters  ; 
Numsculls  they'd   split,  to   furnish  other 

revels, 
And   make  a  calves-head  feast  for  worms 

and  devils. 


British  Chronologist,  177. 


*  Gents.  Mag  .and  Brit.  Chron. 


.59 


THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  3 


160 


CalfaesJ^eatr  Club  m  ^ufibOt  Street,  173 1. 


There  is  a  print  entitled  "  The  true 
Effigies  of  the  Members  of  the  Calves- 
head  Club,  held  on  the  30th  of  January, 
1734,  in  Suffolk  Street,  in  the  County  of 
Middlesex/'  This  date  is  the  year  before 
that  of  the  disturbance  related,  and  as  re- 
gards the  company,  the  health  drinking, 
huzzaing,  a  calf's"  head  in  a  napkin,  a 
bonfire,  and  the  mob,  the  scene  is  the 
same ;  with  this  addition,  that  there  is  a 
person  in  a  mask  with  an  axe  in  his  hand. 
The  engraving  above  is  from  this  print. 


On  a  work  entitled  the  "  History  of 
the  Calves-head  Club/'  little  reliance  is 
to  be  placed  for  authenticity.  It  appears, 
however,  that  their  toasts  were  of  this  de- 
scription :  "  The  pious  memory  of  Oliver 
Cromwell."  "  Damn— n  to  the  race  of  the 
Stuarts."  "The  glorious  year  1648." 
"  The  man  in  the  mask,  &c/'  Tt  will  be 
remembered  that  the  executioner  of 
Charles  I.  wore  a  mask. 


161 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  B  JOK.-.JANUARY  30. 


Oranges  and  Bells. 

A  literary  hand  at  Newark  is  so  oblig- 
ing as  to  send  the  communication  annexed, 
for  which,  in  behalf  of  the  reader,  the  edi- 
tor offers  his  sincere  thanks. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir,  Newark,  Dec.  1 0,  1 825. 

On  the  30th  of  January,  the  anniver- 
sary of  king  Charles's  martyrdom,  and  on 
Shrove  Tuesday,  we  have  a  custom  here, 
which  I  believe  to  be  singular,  having 
never  heard  of  it  elsewhere.  On  those 
days,  there  are  several  stalls  placed  in  the 
market-place,  (as  if  for  a  regular  market,) 
having  nothing  but  oranges  :  you  may 
purchase  them,  but  it  is  rarely  the  case  ; 
but  you  "  raffle'*  for  them,  at  least  that  is 
their  expression.  You  give  the  owner  a 
halfpenny,  which  entitles  you  to  one 
share ;  if  a  penny,  to  two,  and  so  on  ;  and 
when  there  is  a  sufficient  sum,  you  begin 
the  raffle.  A  ball  nearly  round,  (about 
the  size  of  a  hen's  egg,)  yet  having 
twenty-six  square  sides,  each  having  a 
number,  being  one  to  twenty-six,  is  given 
you  :  (some  balls  may  not  have  so  many, 
others  more,  but  I  never  saw  them.)  You 
throw  the  ball  down,  what  I  may  term, 
the  chimney,  (which  is  so  made  as  to 
keep  turning  the  ball  as  it  descends,)  and 
it  falls  on  a  flat  board  with  a  ledge,  to 
keep  it  from  falling  off,  and  when  it  stops 
you  look  at  the  number.  Suppose  it  was 
twelve,  the  owner  of  the  stall  uses  this  ex- 
pression, "Twelve  is  the  highest,  and  one 
gone."  Then  another  throws  ;  if  his  is  a 
lesser  number,  they  say,  "  Twelve  is  the 
highest,  and  two  gone  ;"  if  a  higher  num- 
Der,  they  call  accordingly.  The  highest 
number  takes  oranges  to  the  amount  of  all 
the  money  on  the  board.  When  they 
first  begin,  a  halfpenny  is  put  down,  then 
they  call  "  One,  and  who  makes  two  ?" 
\vhen  another  is  put  down,  it  is  "Two, 
and  who  makes  three  ?"  and  so  on.  At 
night  the  practice  is  kept  up  at  their  own 
houses  till  late  hours;  and  others  go  to  the 
inns  and  public-houses  to  see  what  they 
can  do  there. 

Also  eveiy  day,  at  six  in  the  morning, 
and  night,  at  eight  o'clock,  we  have  a  bell 
rung  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  :  it  is 
termed  six  o'clock  and  eight  o'clock  bell. 
On  saint  days,  Saturdays,  and  Sundays, 
the  time  is  altered  to  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  to  seven  o'clock  at  night, 
with  an  additional  ringing  at  one  o'clock 

VOL.  TL— 58. 


at  noon.  Again,  at  eight  o'clock  v>n  Sun- 
day morning,  all  the  bells  are  tolled  round 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

I  have  mentioned  the  above,  that,  if 
they  come  within  the  notice  of  the  Every- 
Day  Book,  you  would  give  them  inser- 
tion, and,  if  possible,  account  for  their 
origin. 

Whilst  on  the  subject   of  "  bells,"  per- 
haps you  can  mention  how    "  hand  bells 
came  into  the  church,  and  for  what   pur- 
pose."    We  have  a  set  in  this  church* 
I  am,  &c. 

H.  H.  N.  N. 


The  editor  will  be  glad  to  receive  eluci- 
dations of  either  of  these  usages. 

Accounts  of  local  customs  are  paiticu- 
larly  solicited  from  readers  of  the  Every- 
Day  Book  in  every  part  of  the  country. 


To  the  notice  of  this  day  in  the  Per- 
ennial Calendar,  the  following  stanzas 
are  subjoined  by  Dr.  Forster.  They  are 
evident "  developments"  of  phrenological 
thought. 

VERSES    ON    A    SKULL 

In  a  church-yard. 

O  empty  vault  of  former  glory  ! 

Whate'er  thou  wert  in  time  of  old. 
Thy  surface  tells  thy  living  story, 

Tho'  now  so  hoJ)o\v,  dead,  and  cold  , 
For  in  thy  form  is  yet  descried 

The  traces  left  of  young  desire  ; 
The  Painter's  art,  the  Statesman's  pride, 

The  Muse's  song,  the  Poet's  fire ; 
But  these,  forsooth,  now  seem  to  be 
Mere  lumps  ou  thy  periphery. 

Dear  Nature,  constant  in  her  laws, 

Hath  mark'd  each  mental  operation, 
She  ev'ry  feeling's  limit  draws 

On  all  the  heads  throughout  the  nation, 
That  there  might  no  deception  be  ; 

And  he  who  kens  her  tokens  well, 
Hears  tongues  which  every  where  agree 

In  language  that  no  lies  can  tell — 
Courage — Deceit — Destruction — Theft — 
Have  traces  on  the  skullcap  left. 

But  through  all  Nature  s  constancy 
An  awful  change  of  form  is  seen, 

Two  forms  are  not  which  quite  agree, 
None  is  replaced  that  o.ice  hath  been  ; 


163 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  30. 


164 


Endless  variety  in  all, 

From  Fly  to  Man,  Creation's  pride, 
Each  shows  his  proper  form — to  fall 

Eftsoons  in  time's  o'erwhelming  tide, 
And  mutability  goes  on 
With  ceaseless  combination. 


Tis  thine  to  teach  with  magic  power 

Those  who  still  bend  life's  fragile  stem, 
To  suck  the  sweets  of  every  flower, 

Before  the  sun  shall  set  to  them ; 
Calm  the  contending  passions  dire, 

Which  on  thy  surface  I  descry, 
Like  water  struggling  with  the  fire 

In  combat,  which  of  them  shall  die  ; 
Thus  is  the  soul  in  Fury's  car, 
A  type  of  Hell's  intestine  war. 

Old  wall  of  man's  most  noble  par  , 

While  now  I  trace  with  trembling  hand 
Thy  sentiments,  how  oft  I  start, 

Dismay'd  at  such  a  jarring  band  ! 
Man,  with  discordant  frenzy  fraught, 

Seems  either  madman,  fool,  or  knave  ; 
To  try  to  live  is  all  he's  taught — 

To  'scape  her  foot  who  nought  doth  save 
In  life's  proud  race ; — (unknown  our  goal) 
To  strive  against  a  kindred  soul. 

These  various  organs  show  the  place 

Where  Friendship  lov'd,  where  Passion 

glow'd, 
Where  Veneration  grew  in  grace, 

Where  justice   swayed,  where  man  was 

proud — 
Whence  Wit  its  slippery  sallies  threw 

On  Vanity,  thereby  defeated ; 
Where  Hope's  imaginary  view 

Of  things  to  come  (fond  fool)  is  seated  ; 
Where  Circumspection  made  us  fear, 
Mid  gleams  of  joy  some  danger  near. 


Here  fair  Benevolence  doth  grow 
In  forehead  high — here  Imitation 

Adorns  the  stage,  where  on  the  Brow 
Are  Sound,  and  Color's  legislation. 


Here  doth  Appropriation  try, 

By  help  of  Secrecy,  to  gain 
A  store  of  wealth,  against  we  die, 

For  heirs  to  dissipate  again. 
Cause  and  Comparison  here  show, 

The  use  of  every  thing  we  know. 

But  here  that  fiend  of  fiends  doth  dwell, 

While  Ideality  unshaken 
By  facts  or  theory,  whose  spell 

Maddens  the  soul  and  fires  our  beacon. 
Whom  memory  tortures,  love  deludes, 

Whom  circumspection  fills  with  dread, 
On  every  organ  he  obtrudes, 

Until  Destruction  o'er  his  head 
Impends  ;  then  mad  with  luckless  strife, 
He  volunteers  the  loss  of  life. 

And  canst  thou  teach  to  future  man 

The  way  his  evils  to  repair — • 
Say,  O  momento, — of  the  span 

Of  mortal  life  ?     For  if  the  care 
Of  truth  to  science  be  not  given, 

(From  whom  no  treachery  it  can  sever,} 
There's  no  dependance  under  heaven 

That  error  may  not  reign  for  ever. 
May  future  heads  more  learning  cull 
From  thee,  when  my  own  head's  a  skull. 


There  is  a  parish  game  in  Scotland,  at 
this  season  of  theyear,when  the  waters  are 
frozen  and  can  bear  practitioners  in  the  di- 
version. It  prevails,  likewise,  in  North- 
umberland, and  other  northern  parts  of 
south  Britain  ;  yet,  nowhere,  perhaps,  is 
it  so  federalized  as  among  the  descend- 
ants of  those  who  "ha'  wi'  Wallace 
bled."  This  sport,  called  curling,  is  de- 
scribed by  the  georgical  poet,  and  will 
be  better  apprehended  by  being  related 
in  his  numbers  :  it  being  premised  that 
the  time  agreed  on,  or  the  appointment 
for  playing  it,  is  called  the  tryst ;  the 
match  is  called  the  bonspiel ;  the  boundary 
marks  for  the  play  are  called  the  tees  ; 
and  the  stones  used  are  called  coits, 
or  quoits,  or  coiting,  or  quoiting-stones. 


Now  rival  parishes,  and  shrievedoms,  keep, 
On  upland  lochs,  the  long-expected  tryst 
To  play  their  yearly  bonspiel.     Aged  men, 
Smit  with  the  eagerness  of  youth,  are  there, 
While  love  of  conquest  lights  their  beamless  eyes, 
New-nerves  their  arms,  and  makes  them  young  once  more. 

The  sides  when  ranged,  the  distance  meted  out, 
And  duly  traced  the  tees,  some  younger  hand 
Begins,  with  throbbing  heart,  and  far  o'ershoots, 
Or  sideward  leaves,  the  mark  :  in  vain  he  bends 
His  waist,  and  winds  his  hand,  as  if  it  still 
Retained  the  power  to  guide  the  devious  stone, 


165  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. —JANUARY  31. 

Which,  onward  hurling,  makes  the  circling  groupe 
Quick  start  aside,  to  shun  its  reckless  force. 
But  more  and  still  more  skilful  arms  succeed, 
And  near  and  nearer  still  around  the  tee, 
This  side,  now  that,  approaches ;  till  at  last, 
Two,  seeming  equidistant,  straws,  or  twigs, 
Decide  as  umpires  'tween  contending  coits. 

Keen,  keener  still,  as  life  itself  were  staked, 
Kindles  the  friendly  strife  :  one  points  the  line 
To  him  who,  poising,  aims  and  aims  again  ; 
Another  runs  and  sweeps  where  nothing  lies. 
Success  alternately,  from  side  to  side. 
Changes  ;  and  quick  the  hours  un-noted  fly, 
Till  light  begins  to  fail,  and  deep  below, 
The  player,  as  he  stoops  to  lift  his  coit, 
Sees,  half  incredulous,  the  rising  moon. 
But  now  the  final,  the  decisive  spell 
Begins ;  near  and  more  near  the  sounding  stones, 
Some  winding  in,  some  bearing  straight  along, 
Crowd  justling  all  around  the  mark,  while  one, 
Just  slightly  touching,  victory  depends 
Upon  the  final  aim  :  long  swings  the  stone. 
Then  with  full  force,  careering  furious  on, 
Rattling  it  strikes  aside  both  friend  and  foe, 
Maintains  its  course,  and  takes  the  victor's  place. 
The  social  meal  succeeds,  and  social  glass ; 
In  words  the  fight  renewed  is  fought  again, 
While  festive  mirth  forgets  the  winged  hours. — 
Some  quit  betimes  the  scene,  and  find  that  home 
Is  still  the  place  where  genuine  pleasure  dwells, 


160 


Grakame. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  36  •  85. 


Sfanuarp  31. 

King  George  IV,  proclaimed. — Holiday 
at  the  Exchequer. 

Wakes. 

A  newspaper  of  this  day,*  in  the  year 
1821,  relates  the  following"  anecdote  : — 

All  through  Ireland  the  ceremonial  of 
wakes  and  funerals  is  most  punctually  at- 
tended to,  and  it  requires  some  sfavoir 
faire  to  carry  through  the  arrangement  in 
a  masterly  manner.  A  great  adept  at  the 
business,  who  had  been  the  prime  ma- 
nager at  all  the  wakes  in  the  neighbour- 
hood for  many  years,  was  at  last  called 
away  from  the  death-beds  of  his  friends 
to  his  own.  Shortly  before  he  died  he 
gave  minute  directions  to  his  people  as  to 

*  New  Times. 


the  mode  of  waking  him  in  proper  style. 
"  Recollect,"  says  he,  "  to  put  three  can- 
dles at  the  head  of  the  bed,  after  you  lay 
me  out,  and  two  at  the  foot,  and  one  at 
each  side.  Mind  now,  and  put  a  plate 
with  the  salt  on  it  just  a  top  of  my  breast. 
And,  do  you  hear  ?  have  plenty  of  tobacco 
and  pipes  enough ;  and  remember  to  make 
the  punch  strong.  And — but  what  the 
devil  is  the  use  of  talking  to  you  ?  sure  I 
know  you'll  be  sure  to  botch  it,  as  I  won't 
be  there  myself." 

MR.  JOHN  BULL,  an  artist,  with  poeti- 
cal powers  exemplified  in  the  first  vo- 
lume* by  a  citation  from  his  poem  enti- 
tled "  The  Museum,"  which  deserves  to  be 
better  known,  favours  the  Every-Day 
Book  with  the  following  original  lines. 
The  conflict  between  the  cross  and  the 
crescent,  renders  the  communication  pe- 
culiarly interesting  to  those  who  indulge 
a  hope  that  the  struggle  will  terminate  in 
the  liberation  of  Greece  from  "  worse  than 
Egyptian  bondage." 

*  P.m 


167 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— JANUARY  31. 


168 


THE    RAINBOW    IN    GREECE. 

By  Mr.  John  Bull. 

Arch  of  peace  '  the  firmament 

Hath  not  a  form  more  fair 
Than  thine,  thus  beautifully  bent 

Upon  the  lighten'd  air. 

Well  might  the  wondrous  bards  of  yore 

Of  thee  so  sweetly  sing ; 
Thy  fair  foot  on  their  lovely  shore 

Returning  with  the  spring  ! 

An  angel's  form  to  thee  they  gave, 

Celestial  feign'd  thy  birth, 
Saw  thee  now  span  the  light  green  wave, 

And  now  the  greener  earth. 

Yet  then,  where'er  thy  smile  was  seen 

On  land,  or  billowy  main, 
Thou  seem'd  to  watch,  with  look  serene, 

O'er  Freedom's  glorious  reign. 

Thy  brilliant  arch,  around  the  sky, 

The  nurse  of  hope  appear'd, 
Sweet  as  the  light  of  liberty, 

Wherewith  their  souls  were  cheer'd  ! 

But  ah  !  if  thou,  when  Greece  was  young, 

Didst  visit  realms  above  ; 
Go  and  return,  as  minstrels  sung 

A  messenger  of  love  : 

What  tale,  in  heaven,  hast  thou  to  tell, 

Of  tyrants  and  their  slaves — 
Despots,  and  soul-bound  men  that  dwell 

Without  their  fathers'  graves ! 

Oh  !  when  they  see  thy  beauteous  bow, 

Surround  their  ancient  skies, 
Do  not  the  Grecian  warriors  know, 

Tis  then  their  hour  to  rise  1 

Let  them  unsheath  the  daring  sword, 

And,  pointing  up  to  thee, 
Speak  to  their  men  one  fiery  word, 

And  march  to  set  them  free 

Upon  thino  arch  of  hope  they'd  glance, 
And  say,  "  The  storm  is  o'er  I 

"  The  clouds  are  breaking  off — advance, 
"  We  will  be  slaves  no  more !" 


repre- 


The  "Mirror  of  the  Months" 
ents  of  the  coming  month,  that— 

"  Now  the  Christmas  holidays  are  3ver, 
and  all  the  snow  in  Russia  could  not 
make  the  first  Monday  in  this  month  look 
any  other  than  black,  in  the  home-loving 
eyes  of  little  schoolboys  ;  and  the  streets 
of  London  are  once  more  evacuated  of 
h: 
but 

heard,  and  sorrowful  faces  seen  to  issue 
from  sundry  post-chaises  that  carry  six- 
teen inside,  exclusive  of  cakes  and  boxes; 


lappy  wondering  faces,  that  look  any  way 
)ut  straight  before    them  ;  and  sobs  are 


and  theatres  are  no  longer  conscious  or 
unconscious  dclats  de  rire,  but  the  whole 
audience  is  like  Mr.  Wordsworth's  cloud, 
"  which  moveth  altogether,  if  it  move 
at  all."  

In  the  gardens  of  our  habitations,  and 
the  immense  tracts  that  provide  great 
cities  with  the  products  of  the  earth,  the 
cultivator  seizes  the  first  opportunity  to 
prepare  and  dress  the  bosom  of  our  com- 
mon mother.  "  Hard  frosts,  if  they  come 
at  all,  are  followed  by  sudden  thaws; 
and  now,  therefore,  if  ever,  the  mysterious 
old  song  of  our  school  days  stands  a 
chance  of  being  verified,  which  sings  of 
*  Three  children  sliding  on  the  ice, 

All  on  a  summer's  day  !' 
Now  the  labour  of  the  husbandman  re- 
commences ;  and  it  is  pleasant  to  watch 
(from  your  library-window)  the  plough- 
team  moving  almost  imperceptibly  along, 
upon  the  distant  upland  that  the  bare 
trees  have  disclosed  to  you.— Nature  is 
as  busy  as  ever,  if  not  openly  and  ob- 
viously, secretly,  and  in  the  hearts  of  her 
sweet  subjects  the  flowers  ;  stirring  them 
up  to  that  rich  rivalry  of  beauty  which  is 
to  greet  the  first  footsteps  of  spring,  and 
teaching  them  to  prepare  themselves  for 
her  advent,  as  young  maidens  prepare, 
months  beforehand,  for  the  marriage  fes- 
tival of  some  dear  friend. — If  the  flowers 
think  and  feel  (and  he  who  dares  to  say 
that  they  do  not  is  either  a  fool  or  a  phi- 
losopher— let  him  choose  between  the 
imputations  !) — if  the  flowers  think  and 
feel,  what  a  commotion  must  be  working 
within  their  silent  hearts,  when  the  pi- 
nions of  winter  begin  to  grow,  and  indi- 
cate that  he  is  at  least  meditating  his 
flight  Then  do  they,  too,  begin  to 
meditate  on  May-day,  and  think  on  the 
delight  with  which  they  shall  once  more 
breathe  the  fresh  air,  when  they  have 
leave  to  escape  from  their  subterranean 
prisons ;  for  now,  towards  the  latter  end 
of  this  month,  they  are  all  of  them  at 
least  awake  from  their  winter  slumbers, 
and  most  are  busily  working  at  their  gay 
toilets,  and  weaving  their  fantastic  robes, 
and  shaping  their  trim  forms,  and  distil- 
ling their  rich  essences,  and,  in  short, 
getting  ready  in  all  things,  that  they  may 
be  duly  prepared  to  join  the  bright  pro- 
cession of  beauty  that  is  to  greet  and 
glorify  the  annual  coming  on  of  their 
sovereign  lady,  the  spring.  It  is  true 
none  of  all  this  can  be  seen.  But  what 
a  race  should  we  be,  if  we  kne^v  and 


169 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY. 


170 


cared  to  know  of  nothing,  but  what  we 
can  see  and  prove  !  "  " 

*  Mirror  of  the  Months. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  35. 


FEBRUARY. 

When,  in  the  zodiac,  the  Fish  wheel  round, 

They  loose  the  floods,  and  irrigate  the  grouud. 

Then,  husbandmen  resume  their  wonted  toil, 

Yoke  their  strong  steers,  and  plough  the  yielding  soil 

Then  prudent  gard'ners  seize  the  happy  time, 

To  dig  and  trench,  and  prune  for  shoots  to  climb, 

Inspect  their  borders,  mark  the  silent  birth 

Of  plants,  successive,  from  the  teeming  earth, 

Watch  the  young  nurslings  with  paternal  care, 

Apd  hope  for  "growing  weather"  all  the  year. 

Yet  February's  suns  uncertain  shine, 

*ov  rain  and  frost  alternately  combine 

To  stop  the  plough,  with  sudden  wintry  storms — 

/•nd,  often,  fearful  violence  the  month  deforms 


171 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  1. 


172 


jftbruarp  l. 

Flowers 

A  good  garden  in  a  sunny  day,  at  the 
commencement  of  this  month,  has  many 
delightful  appearances  to  a  lover  of  na- 
ture, and  issues  promises  of  further  gra- 
tification. It  is,  however,  in  ball-rooms 
and  theatres  that  many  of  the  sex,  to 
whose  innocence  and  beauty  the  lily  is 
likened,  resort  for  amusement,  and  see  or 
wear  the  mimic  forms  of  floral  loveliness. 
Yet  this  approach  to  nature,  though  at 
an  awful  distance,  is  to  be  hailed  as 
an  impulse  of  her  own  powerful  working 
in  the  very  heart  of  fashion  ;  and  it  has 
this  advantage,  that  it  supplies  means  of 
existence  to  industry,  and  urges  ingenuity 
to  further  endeavour.  Artificial  wants 
are  rapidly  supplied  by  the  necessity  of 
providing  for  real  ones;  and  the  weal- 
thy accept  drafts  upon  conditions  which 


indigence    prescribes,    till    it    becomes 
lifted  above  poverty  to  independence. 

The  manufacture  of  artificial  flowers  is 
not  wholly  unknown  in  England,  but  our 
neighbours,  the  French,  eclipse  us  in  the 
accuracy  and  variety  of  their  imitations. 
Watering-places  abound  with  these  won- 
ders of  their  work-people,  and  in  the  me- 
tropolis there  are  depots,  from  whence 
dress-makers  and  milliners  are  supplied 
by  wholesale. 

The  annexed  literal  copy  of  a  French 
flower-maker's  card,  circulated  during  the 
summer  of  1822  among  the  London 
shopkeepers,  is  a  whimsical  specimen  of 
self-sufficiency,  and  may  save  some  learn- 
ers of  French  from  an  overweening  confi- 
dence in  their  acquisition  of  that  language, 
which,  were  it  displayed  in  Paris,  would 
be  as  whimsical  in  that  metropolis  as  this 
English  is  in  ours. 


M.    MARLOTEAU   et   O. 

Manufacturers  from  Paris , 

37,  MONTMORENCY-STREET, 

To   London  14   Broad  street  ,    Oxford  street. 

Acquaint  the  Trade  in  general,  that  they  have  just  established  in  LONDON. 

A  Warhouse  for  FRENCH  FLOWERS  ,   for  each  Season  ,  feathar  from 
hat  ladies  of  their  own  Manufacture  elegant  fans  of  the  NEWEST  TASTE. 

And  of  Manufactures  of  PARIS  ,  complette  sets  ornaments  for  'balls ,  snuff  ( 
boxes  scale  gold  and  silver ,  boxes  toilette  ,  ribbons  and  embroidered  ,  hat 
et  cap ,  from  Ladies  of  the  newest  Taste  ,  China ,  all  sorts  ,  etc. 

He  commit  generally  the  articles  from  Paris ,  Manufacturers. 

And  send  in  all  BRITISH  CITY. 
Attandance  from  Nine  o'Clock  in  the  Morning  till  five  in  the  Afternoon. 


173 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  2. 


174 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  .39  •  70. 

jfdbruarj)  2. 

Purification,  or  Candlemas.    1826. — Holi- 
day at  the  Public  Offices. 
This  day,  the  festival  of  "the  Purifica- 
tion of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,"  is  some- 
times  called    Christ's   Presentation,    the 
Holiday  of  St   Simeon,  and  The   Wives' 
Feast.     An  account  of  its  origin  and  cele- 
bration is  in  vol.  i:  p.  199.     A  beautiful 
composition  in  honour  of  the  Virgin  is 
added  as  a  grace  to  these  columns. 
Portuguese  Hymn. 

TO   THE    VIRGIN    MARY. 

By  John  Leyden. 
Star  of  the  wide  and  pathless  sea, 

Who  lov'st  on  mariners  to  shine, 
These  votive  garments  wet  to  thee, 

We  hang  within  thy  holy  shrine. 

When  o'er  us  flushed  the  surging  brine, 
Amid  the  warring  waters  tost, 

We  called  no  other  name  but  thine, 
And  hoped,  when  other  hope  was  lost, 

Ave  Maris  Stella ! 
Star  of  the  vast  and  howling  main, 

When  dark  and  lone  is  all  the  sky, 
And  mountain- waves  o'er  ocean's  plain 

Erect  their  stormy  heads  on  high  ; 

When  virgins  for  their  true  loves  sigh, 
And  raise  their  weeping  eyes  to  thee, 

The  star  of  Ocean  heeds  their  cry, 
And  saves  the  foundering  bark  at  sea. 

Ave  Maris  Stella! 
Star  of  the  dark  and  stormy  sea, 

When  wrecking  tempests  round  us  rave, 
Thy  gentle  virgin  form  we  see 

Bright  rising  o'er  the  hoary  wave. 

The  howling  storms  that  seem  to  crave 
Their  victims,  sink  in  music  sweet, 

The  surging  seas  recede  to  pave 
The  path  beneath  thy  glistening  feet, 

Ave  Maris  Stella! 
Star  of  tne  desert  waters  wild, 

Who  pitying  hears  the  seaman's  cry, 
The  God  of  mercy,  as  a  child, 

On  that  chaste  bosom  loves  to  lie ; 

While  soft  the  chorus  of  the  sky 
Their  hymns  of  tender  mercy  sing, 

And  angel  voices  name  on  high 
The  mother  of  the  heavenly  king, 

Ave  Maris  Stella! 
Star  of  the  deep  !  at  that  blest  name 

The  waves  sleep  silent  round  the  keel, 
The  tempests  wild  their  fury  tame 

That  made  the  deep's  foundations  reel : 

The  soft  celestial  accents  steal 
So  soothing  through  the  realms  of  woe, 
*         #        '#         *         * 

Ave  Maris  Stella  ! 


Star  of  the  mild  and  placid  seas, 

Whom  rainbow  rays  of  mercy  crown, 

Whose  name  thy  faithful  Portuguese 
O'er  all  that  to  the  depths  go  down, 
With  hymns  of  grateful  transport  own  , 

When  gathering  clouds  obscure  their  light 
And  heaven  assumes  an  awful  frown. 

The  star  of  Ocean  glitters  bright, 
Ave  Maris  Stella ! 

Star  of  the  deep  !  when  angel  lyres 

To  hymn  thy  holy  name  essay, 
In  vain  a  mortal  harp  aspires 

To  mingle  in  the  mighty  lay  ! 

Mother  of  God  !  one  living  ray 
Of  hope  our  grateful  bosoms  fires 

When  storms  and  tempests  pass  away, 
To  join  the  bright  immortal  quires. 
Ave  Maris  Stella ! 


On  Candlemas-day,  1734,  there  was  a 
grand  entertainment  for  the  judges,  ser- 
geants, &c.  in  the  Temple-hall.  The  lord 
chancellor,  the  earl  of  Macclesfield,  the 
bishop  of  Bangor,  together  with  other 
distinguished  persons,  were  present,  and 
the  prince  of  Wales  attended  incog.  At 
night  the  comedy  of  "  Love  for  Love  " 
was  acted  by  the  company  of  his  Majesty's 
revels  from  the  Haymarket  theatre,  who 
received  a  present  of  507.  from  the  so- 
cieties of  the  Temple.  The  judges,  ac- 
cording to  an  ancient  custom,  danced 
"  round  the  coal  fire,"  singing  an  old 
French  song.* 

THE    COAL    AND    THE    DIAMOND 

A  Fable  for  Cold  Weather, 
A  coal  was  hid  beneath  the  grate, 
(Tis  often  modest  merit's  fate,) 

'Twas  small,  and  so,  perhaps,  forgotten  ; 
Whilst  in  the  room,  and  near  in  size, 

Ir  a  fine  casket  lined  with  cotton, 
In  pomp  and  state,  a  diamond  lies. 

"  So,  little  gentleman  in  black," 
The  brilliant  spark  in  anger  cried, 

"  I  hear,  in  philosophic  clack, 
Our  families  are  close  allied  ; 

But  know,  the  splendour  of  my  hue, 
ExcelPd  by  nothing  in  existence, 

Should  teach  such  little  folks  as  you 
To  keep  a  more  respectful  distance." 

At  these  reflections  on  his  name, 

The  coal  soon  redden'd  to  a  flame ; 

Of  his  own  real  use  aware, 

He  only  answer'd  with  a  sneer — 

"  I  scorn  your  taunts,  good  bishop  Blaae, 

And  envy  not  your  charms  divine  ; 
For  know,  1  boast  a  double  praise, 

As  I  can  warm  as  well  as  shine." 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


75 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  2. 


176 


She  was  in  prison,  as  you  see, 

All  in  a  cave  of  snow  ; 
And  she  could  not  relieved  be, 

Though  she  was  frozen  so. 

Ah,  weU  a-day  1 


17' 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY. 

For  she  was  all  froze  in  with  frost, 

Eight  days  and  nights,  poor  soul  ! 
Rut  when  they  gave  her  up  for  lost, 

They  found  her  down  the  hole. 

A  h,  well-a-day '  MS.  Ballad. 


178 


.  On  Saturday,  the  2d  of  February,  1799, 
Elizabeth  Woodcock,  aged  forty-two  years, 
went  on  horseback  from  Impington  to 
Cambridge ;  on  her  return,  between  six 
and  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  being 
about  half  a  mile  from  her  own  home, 
her  horse  started  at  a  sudden  light,  pro- 
bably from  a  meteor,  which,  at  this  season 
of  the  year,  frequently  happens.  She 
exclaimed,  "  Good  God !  what  can  this 
be?''  It  was  a  very  inclement,  stormy 
night;  a  bleak  wind  blew  boisterously 
from  the  N.  E. ;  the  ground  was  covered 
by  great  quantities  of  snow  that  had  fallen 
during  the  day.  Many  of  the  deepest 
ditches  were  filled  up,  whilst  in  the  open 
fields  there  was  but  a  thin  covering  ;  but 
in  roads  and  lanes,  and  in  narrow  and 
enclosed  parts,  it  had  so  accumulated  as 
to  retard  the  traveller.  The  horse  ran 
backwards  to  the  brink  of  a  ditcb,  and 
fearing  lest  the  animal  should  plunge 
into  it,  she  dismounted,  intending  to  lead 
the  animal  home ;  but  he  started  again, 
and  broke  from  her.  She  attempted  to 
regain  the  bridle;  but  the  horse  turned 
suddenly  out  of  the  road,  over  a  common 
field,  and  she  followed  him.  Having  lost 
one  of  her  shoes  in  the  snow,  and  wearied 
by  the  exertion  she  had  made,  and  by  a 
heavy  basket  on  her  arm,  her  pursuit  of 
the  horse  was  greatly  impeded  ;  she  how- 
ever persisted,  and  having  overtaken  him 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  whence 
she  alighted,  she  gained  the  bridle,  and 
made  another  attempt  to  lead  him  home. 
But  on  retracing  her  steps  to  a  thicket 
contiguous  to  the  road,  she  became  so 
much  fatigued,  and  her  left  foot,  which 
was  without  a  shoe,  was  so  much  be- 
numbed, that  she  was  unable  to  proceed 
farther.  Sitting  down  upon  the  ground 
in  this  state,  and  letting  go  the  bridle, 
"  Tinker,"  she  said,  calling  the  horse  by 
his  name,  "  I  am  too  much  tired  to  go 
any  farther;  you  must  go  home  without 
me  :"  and  exclaimed,  "  Lord  have  mercy 
upon  me!  what  will  become  of  me?" 
The  ground  on  which  she  sat  was  upon  a 
jevel  with  the  common  field,  close  under 
the  thicket  on  the  south-west.  She  well 
knew  its  situation,  and  its  distance  from 
her  own  house.  There  was  then  only  a 
small  quantity  of  snow  drifted  near  her; 
but  it  accumulated  so  rapidly,  that  when 


Chesterton  bell  rang  at  eight  o'clock,  she 
was  completely  hemmed  in  by  it.  The 
depth  of  the  snow  in  which  she  was  en- 
veloped was  about  six  feet  in  a  perpen- 
dicular direction,  and  over  her  head  be- 
tween two  and  three.  She  was  incapable 
of  any  effectual  attempt  to  extricate  her- 
self, and,  in  addition  to  her  fatigue  and 
cold,  her  clothes  were  stiffened  by  the 
frost;  and  therefore,  resigning  herself  to 
the  necessity  of  her  situation,  she  sat 
awaiting  the  dawn  of  the  following  day. 
To  the  best  of  her  recollection,  she  slept 
very  little  during  the  night.  In  the 
morning,  observing  before  her  a  circular 
hole  in  the  snow,  about  two  feet  in  length, 
and  half  a  foot  in  diameter,  running 
obliquely  upwards,  she  broke  off  a  branch 
of  a  bush  which  was  close  to  her,  and 
with  it  thrust  her  handkerchief  through 
the  hole,  and  hung  it,  as  a  signal  of  dis- 
tress, upon  one  of  the  uppermost  twigs 
that  remained  uncovered.  She  bethought 
herself  that  the  change  of  the  moon  was 
near,  and  having  an  almanac  in  her 
pocket,  took  it  out,  though  with  great 
difficulty,  and  found  that  there  would  be 
a  new  moon  the  next  day,  February  the 
4th.  Her  difficulty  in  getting  the  alma- 
nac from  her  pocket  arose,  in  a  great 
measure,  from  the  stiffness  of  her  frozen 
clothes ;  the  trouble,  however,  was  com- 
pensated by  the  consolation  which  the 
prospect  of  so  near  a  change  in  her  favour 
afforded.  Here,  however,  she  remained 
day  after  day,  and  night  after  night,  per- 
fectly distinguishing  the  alterations  of  day 
and  night,  hearing  the  bells  of  her  own 
and  the  neighbouring  villages,  particularly 
that  of  Chesterton,  which  was  about  two 
miles  distant  from  the  spot,  and  rung  in 
winter  time  at  eight  in  the  evening  and 
four  in  the  morning,  Sundays  excepted ; 
she  was  sensible  to  the  sound  of  carriages 
upon  the  road,  the  bleating  of  sheep  and 
lambs,  and  the  barking  of  dogs.  One 
day  she  overheard  a  conversation  between 
two  gipsies,  relative  to  an  ass  they  had 
lost.  She  recollected  having  pulled  out 
her  snuff-box,  and  taken  two  pinches  of 
snuff,  but  felt  so  little  gratification  from 
it,  that  she  never  repeated  it.  Possibly, 
the  cold  might  have  so  far  blunted  her 
powers  of  sensation,  that  the  snuff  no 
longer  retained  its  stimulus.  Finding  her 


179 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  2. 


18C 


left  hand  beginning  to  swell,  in  conse- 
quence of  her  reclining  on  that  arm,  she 
took  two  rings,  the  tokens  of  her  nuptial 
vows  twice  pledged,  t'rom  her  finger,  and 
put  them,  together  with  a  little  money 
from  her  pocket,  into  a  small  box,  judging 
that,  should  she  not  be  found  alive,  the 
rings  and  money,  being  thus  deposited, 
were  less  likely  to  be  overlooked  by  the 
discoverers  of  her  breathless  corpse.  She 
frequently  shouted,  in  hopes  that  her  vo- 
ciferations might  reach  any  that  chanced 
to  pass,  but  the  snow  prevented  the  trans- 
mission of  her  voice.  The  gipsies,  who 
approached  her  nearer  than  any  other 
persons,  were  not  sensible  of  any  sound, 
though  she  particularly  endeavoured  to 
attract  their  attention.  A  thaw  took  place 
on  the  Friday  after  the  commencement  of 
her  misfortunes ;  she  felt  uncommonly 
faint  and  languid ;  her  clothes  were 
wetted  quite  through  by  the  melted  snow ; 
the  aperture  before  mentioned  became 
considerably  enlarged,  and  she  attempted 
to  make  an  effort  to  release  herself;  but 
her  strength  was  too  much  impaired ;  her 
feet  and  legs  were  no  longer  obedient  to 
her  will,  and  her  clothes  were  become 
much  heavier  by  the  water  which 
they  had  imbibed.  She  now,  for  the  first 
time,  began  to  despair  of  being  discovered 
alive ;  and  declared,  that,  all  things  con- 
sidered, she  could  not  have  survived 
twenty-four  hours  longer  This  was 
the  morning  of  her  emancipation.  The 
apartment  or  cave  of  snow  formed  around 
her  was  sufficiently  large  to  afford  her 
space  to  move  herself  about  three  or  four 
inches  in  any  direction,  but  not  to  stand 
upright,  it  being  only  about  three  feet 
and  a  half  in  height,  and  about  two  in 
the  broadest  part.  Her  sufferings  had 
now  increased ;  she  sat  with  one  of  her 
hands  spread  over  her  face,  and  fetched 
very  deep  sighs ;  her  breath  was  short 
and  difficult,  and  symptoms  of  approach- 
ing dissolution  became  hourly  more  appa- 
rent. On  that  day,  Sunday,  the  10th  of 
February,  Joseph  Muncey,  a  young 
farmer,  in  his  way  home  from  Cambridge, 
about  half-past  twelve  o'clock,  passed 
very  near  the  spot  where  the  woman  was. 
Her  handkerchief, hanging  upon  the  twigs, 
where  she  had  suspended  it,  caught  his 
eye ;  he  walked  up  to  the  place,  and  saw 
the  opening  in  the  snow,  and  heard  a 
sound  issue  from  it  similar  to  that  of 
a  person  "breathing  hard  and  with  diffi- 
culty. He  looked  in,  and  saw  the  woman 
who  had  been  so  long  missing.  He  did 


not  speak  to  her,  but,  seeing  another 
young  farmer  and  a  shepherd  at  a  little 
distance,  communicated  to  them  the  dis- 
covery he  had  made ;  upon  which,  though 
they  scarcely  credited  his  report,  they 
went  to  the  spot.  The  shepherd  called 
out,  "  Are  you  there,  Elizabeth  Wood- 
cock ?"  She  replied,  in  a  faint  and  feeble 
accent,  "  Dear  John  Stittle,  I  know  your 
voice  ;  for  God's  sake,  help  me  out  of 
this  place !"  Stittle  immediately  made  his 
way  through  the  snow  till  he  was  able  to 
reach  her;  she  eagerly  grasped  his  hand, 
and  implored  him  not  to  leave  her.  "  I 
have  been  here  a  long  time,"  she  observed. 
"  Yes,"  answered  the  man,  "  ever  since 
Saturday."  —  "  Ay,  Saturday  week," 
she  replied ;  "  I  have  heard  the  bells 
go  two  Sundays  for  church."  Her  hus- 
band was  immediately  acquainted  with 
the  discovery,  and  proper  means  were 
taken  for  conveying  her  home.  Her  hus- 
band and  some  neighbours  brought  a 
horse  and  chaise-cart,  with  blankets  to 
wrap  her  in.  The  snow  being  somewhat 
cleared  away,  she  asked  for  a  piece  of  bis- 
cuit and  a  small  quantity  of  brandy,  from 
taking  which  she  found  herself  greatly  re- 
cruited. As  a  person  took  her  up  to  put 
her  into  the  chaise,  the  stocking  of  the  left 
leg,  adhering  to  the  ground,  came  off,  and 
she  fainted.  Nature  was  greatly  exhaust- 
ed, and  the  motion,  added  to  the  sight  of 
her  husband  and  neighbours,was  too  much 
for  her  strength  and  spirits.  When  she 
recovered,  she  was  laid  gently  in  the  car- 
riage, covered  well  over  with  the  blankets, 
and  conveyed  without  delay  to  her  own 
house. 

It  appears  that  when  the  horse  came 
home,  her  husband  and  another  person 
set  out  on  the  road  with  a  lantern,  and 
went  quite  to  Cambridge,  where  they  only 
learnt  that  she  left  the  inn  at  six  that 
evening.  They  explored  the  road  afresh 
that  night,  and  for  four  succeeding  days, 
and  searched  the  huts  of  the  gipsies,  whom 
they  suspected  might  have  robbed  and 
murdered  her,  till  she  was  unexpectedly 
discovered  in  the  manner  already  men- 
tioned. 

Mr.  Okes,  a  surgeon,  first  saw  her  in 
the  cart,  as  she  was  removing  home.  She 
spoke  to  him  with  a  voice  tolerably 
strong,  but  rather  hoarse  ;  her  hands  and 
arms  were  sodden,  but  not  very  cold 
though  her  legs  and  feet  were.  She  was 
put  to  bed,  and  weak  broth  given  her  oc- 
casionally. From  the  time  of  her  being 
lost  she  had  eaten  only  snow,  and  believed 


181 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  3. 


182 


she  had  not  slept  till  Friday  the  8th. 
The  hurry  of  spirits,  occasioned  by  too 
many  visitors,  rendered  her  feverish  ;  and 
hw  feet  were  found  to  be  completely 
mortified.  The  cold  had  extended  its  vio- 
lent effects  from  the  end  of  the  toes  to  the 
middle  of  the  instep,  including  more  than 
an  inch  above  the  heels,  and  all  the  bot- 
tom of  the  feet,  insomuch,  that  she  lost  all 
her  toes  with  the  integuments  from  the 
bottom  of  one  foot.  Her  life  was  saved, 
but  the  mutilated  state  in  which  she  was 
left,  without  even  a  chance  of  ever  being 
able  to  attend  to  the  duties  of  her  family, 
was  almost  worse  than  death  itself.  She 
lingered  until  the  13th  of  July,  1799, 
when  she  expired,  after  a  lapse  of  five 
months  from  the  period  of  her  discovery. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  37. 


St.  Blaise. 

These  two  Romish  festivals  are  still 
retained  in  the  church  of  England  ca- 
lendar. 

Of  St.  Blaise's  festival  there  is  an  ac- 
count in  vol.  i.  p.  207. 


WITCHCRAFT* 

The  necessity  for  instruction  is  power- 
fully exemplified  by  the  following  narra- 
tive. Some  who  reflect  upon  it,  and  dis- 
cover that  there  are  other  and  worse 
consequences  to  be  apprehended  from  ig- 
norance than  those  related  below,  will 
consult  their  own  safety,  by  providing 
education  for  the  children  of  labouring 
people,  and  influencing  their  attendance 
where  they  may  gain  the  means  of  dis- 
tinguishing right  from  wrong. 

In  February,  1808,  at  Great  Paxton,  in 
Huntingdonshire,  Alice  Brown,  crossing 
the  ice  on  the  river  Ouse,  fell  into  the 
water,  and  narrowly  escaped  drowning, 
in  the  sight  of  her  friend,  Fanny  Amey,  a 
poor  epileptic  girl,  who,  in  great  terror, 
witnessed  the  accident.  Alice  arrived  at 
her  father's  house  shivering  with  cold, 
and,  probably  from  sympathetic  affection, 
was  herself  seized  with  epilepsy.  The  fits 
returning  frequently,  she  became  emaci- 
ated, and  incapable  of  labour.  In  April 
following,  the  rev.  Isaac  Nicholson,  curate 
of  the  parish,  inquiring  after  her  health, 
was  astonished  by  her  brother  informing 
him  that  her  fits  and  debility  were  the 


effect  of  witchcraft.  "  She  is  under  an 
evil  tongue,"  said  the  youth.  "  As  sure 
as  you  are  alive,  sir,"  continued  a  stand  er- 
by,  "  she  is  bewitched,  and  so  are  two 
other  young  girls  that  live  near  her." 
The  boor  related,  that  at  the  town  he 
came  from  in  Bedfordshire,  a  man  had 
been  exactly  in  the  same  way ;  but,  by  a 
charm,  he  discovered  the  witch  to  be  an 
old  woman  in  the  same  parish,  and  that 
her  reign  would  soon  be  over ;  which 
happened  accordingly,  for  she  died  in 
a  few  days,  and  the  man  recovered. 
"  Thomas  Brown  tried  this  charm  last 
night  for  his  daughter,  but  it  did  not  suc- 
ceed according  to  our  wishes ;  so  they 
have  not  at  present  found  out  who  it  is 
that  does  all  the  mischief." 

Mr.  Nicholson  was  greatly  shocked 
at  the  general  opinion  of  the  peo- 
ple that  Alice  Brown,  Fanny  Amey, 
and  Mary  Fox  were  certainly  bewitched 
by  some  person  who  had  bought  a  fami- 
liar or  an  evil  spirit  of  the  devil  at  the 
expense  of  the  buyer's  soul,  and  that 
various  charms  had  been  tried  to  discover 
who  the  buyer  was.  It  was  utterly  out 
of  his  power  to  remove  or  diminish  the 
impressions  of  his  parishioners  as  to  the 
enchantment ;  and  on  the  following  Sun- 
day, a  few  minutes  before  he  went  to 
church,  Ann  Izzard,  a  poor  woman  about 
sixty  years  old,  little,  but  riot  ill-looking, 
the  mother  of  eight  children,  five  of  whom 
were  living,  requested  leave  to  speak  to 
him.  In  tears  and  greatly  agitated,  she 
told  him  her  neighbours  pretended,  that, 
by  means  of  certain  charms,  they  had  dis- 
covered that  she  was  the  witch.  She  said 
they  abused  her  children,  and  by  their 
violent  threats  frightened  her  so  much 
that  she  frequently  dropped  down  to  the 
ground  in  fainting-fits.  She  concluded 
by  asserting  her  innocence  in  these  words : 
"  I  am  not  a  witch,  and  am  willing  to 
prove  it  by  being  weighed  against  the 
church  bible."  After  the  sermon,  he  ad- 
dressed his  flock  on  the  folly  of  their  opi- 
nions, and  fatal  consequences  of  brooding 
over  them.  It  appears,  however,  that  his 
arguments,  explanations,  and  remon- 
strances were  in  vain.  On  Thursday,  the 
5th  of  May,  Ann  Izzard  was  at  St.  Neot's 
market,  and  her  son,  about  sixteen  years 
old,  was  sent  there  by  his  master  for  a 
load  of  corn  :  his  mother  and  another 
woman,  a  shopkeeper  in  the  parish,  ac- 
companied him  home ;  but,  contrary  to 
the  mother's  advice,  the  woman  put  a 
basket  of  grocery  on  the  sacks  of  corn 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  3. 


184 


One  of  the  horses,  in  going  down  hill, 
became  restive,  and  overturned  the  cart ; 
and  by  this  accident  the  grocery  was 
much  damaged.  Because  Ann  Izzard  had 
advised  her  neighbour  against  putting  it 
in  the  cart,  she  charged  her  with  upsetting 
it  by  the  black  art,  on  purpose  to  spoil 
the  goods.  In  an  hour,  the  whole  village 
was  in  an  uproar.  "  She  has  just  over- 
turned a  loaded  cart  with  as  much  ease  as 
if  it  had  been  a  spinning-wheel :  this  is  posi- 
tive proof;  it  speaks  for  itself;  she  is  the 
person  that  does  all  the  mischief;  and  if 
something  is  not  done  to  put  a  stop  to 
her  baseness,  there  will  be  no  living  in 
the  place.''  As  it  grew  dark,  on  the  fol- 
lowing Sunday,  these  brutal  creatures  as- 
sembled together,  and  at  ten  o'clock, 
taking  with  them  the  young  women  sup- 
posed to  be  bewitched,  they  proceeded  to 
Wright  Izzard's  cottage,  which  stood  in  a 
solitary  soot  at  some  distance  from  the 
body  01  tne  village;  they  broke  into  the  poor 
man's  house,  dragged  his  wife  naked  from 
her  bed  into  the  yard,  dashed  her  head 
against  the  large  stones  of  the  causeway, 
tore  her  arms  with  pins,  and  beat  her  on 
the  face,  breast,  and  stomach  with  the 
wooden  bar  of  the  door.  When  the  mob 
had  dispersed,  the  abused  and  helpless 
woman  crawled  into  her  dwelling,  put  her 
clothes  on,  and  went  to  the  constable,who 
said  he  could  not  protect  her  for  he  had 
not  been  sworn  in.  One  Alice  Russell, 
a  compassionate  widow,  unlocked  her 
door  to  her  at  the  first  call,  comforted  her, 
bound  up  her  wounds,  and  put  her  to  bed. 
In  the  evening  of  the  next  day  she  was 
again  dragged  forth  and  her  arms  torn  till 
they  streamed  afresh  with  blood.  Alive 
the  following  morning,  and  apparently 
likely  to  survive  this  attack  also,  her  ene- 
mies resolved  to  duck  her  as  soon  as  the 
labour  of  the  day  was  over.  On  hearing  this 
she  fled  to  Little  Paxton,  and  hastily  took 
refuge  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Nicholson,who 
effectually  secured  her  from  the  cruelty  of 
his  ignorant  flock,  and  had  the  mortifica- 
tion to  learn  that  his  own  neighbours 
condemned  him  for  "  harbouring  such  a 
wretch." 

The  kindness  and  affection  of  the 
widow  Russel  were  the  means  of  short- 
ening her  days.  The  infatuated  popu- 
lace cried,  "  The  protectors  of  a  witch 
are  just  as  bad  as  the  witch,  and  deserve 
the  same  treatment."  She  neither  ate 
nor  slept  again  from  anxiety  and  fear;  but 
died  a  martyr  to  her  humanity  in  twelve 
days  after  her  home  became  the  asylum, 


for   a   few   hours,  of  the  unhappy  Alk-e 
Izzard. 

At  the  Huntingdon  resizes  in  the 
August  following,  true  bills  of  indictment 
were  found  by  the  grand  jury  against 
nine  of  these  ignorant,  infuriated  wretches, 
for  assaults  on  Wright  Izzard  and  Ann 
Izzard,  which  were  traversed  to  the  fol- 
lowing assizes.*  It  does  not  appear  how 
they  were  disposed  of. 


Captain  Burt,  an  officer  of  engineers, 
who,  about  the  year  1730,  was  sent  into 
the  north  of  Scotland  on  government  ser- 
vice, relates  the  following  particulars  of 
an  interview  between  himself  and  a  mi- 
nister, whom  he  met  at  the  house  of  a 
nobleman. 

Witchcraft. 

After  the  minister  had  said  a  good  deal 
concerning  the  wickedness  of  such  a  dia- 
bolical practice  as  sorcery ;  and  that  I,  in 
my  turn,  had  declared  my  opinion  of  it, 
which  you  knew  many  years  ago ;  he  un- 
dertook to  convince  me  of  the  reality  of 
it  by  an  example,  which  is  as  follows  : — 

A  certain  Highland  laird  had  found 
himself  at  several  times  deprived  of  some 
part  of  his  wine,  and  having  as  often  ex- 
amined his  servants  about  it,  and  none  of 
them  confessing,  but  all  denying  it  with 
asseverations,  he  was  induced  to  conclude 
they  were  innocent. 

The  next  thing  to  consider  was,  how 
this  could  happen.  Rats  there  were  none 
to  father  the  theft.  Those,  you  know,  ac- 
cording to  your  philosophical  next-door 
neighbour,  might  have  drawn  out  the 
corks  with  their  teeth,  and  then  put  in 
their  tails,  which,  being  long  and  sponge- 
ous,  would  imbibe  a  good  quantity  of 
liquor.  This  they  might  suck  out  again, 
and  so  on,  till  they  had  emptied  as  many 
bottles  as  were  sufficient  for  their  num- 
bers and  the  strength  of  their  heads.  But 
to  be  more  serious  : — I  say  there  was  no 
suspicion  of  rats,  and  it  was  concluded  it 
could  be  done  by  none  but  witches. 

Here  the  new  inquisition  was  set  on 
foot,  and  who  they  were  was  the  question  ; 
but  how  should  that  be  discovered  ?  To 
go  the  shortest  way  to  work,  the  laird 
made  choice  of  one  night,  and  an  hour 
when  he  thought  it  might  be  watering- 
time  with  the  hags  ;  and  went  to  his  cellar 


*  Sermon  against  Witchcraft,  preached  at  Great 
Paxton,  July  17,  1808,  by  the  Rev.  I.  Mchol^on 
STO. 


185 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  3. 


186 


without  a  light,  the  better  to  surprise 
them.  Then,  with  his  naked  broad- 
sword in  his  hand,  he  suddenly  opened 
the  door,  and  shut  it  after  him,  and  fell  to 
cutting  and  slashing  all  round  about  him, 
till,  at  last,  by  an  opposition  to  the  edge 
of  his  sword,  he  concluded  he  had  at  least 
wounded  one  of  them.  But  I  should 
have  told  you,  that  although  the  place  was 
very  dark,  yet  he  made  no  doubt,  by  the 
glare  and  flashes  of  their  eyes,  that  they 
were  cats  ;  but,  upon  the  appearance  of  a 
candle,  they  were  all  vanished,  and  only 
some  blood  left  upon  the  floor.  I  cannot 
forbear  to  hint  in  this  place  at  Don 
Quixote's  battle  with  the  borachios  of 
wine. 

There  was  an  old  woman,  that  lived 
about  two  miles  from  the  laird's  habita- 
tion, reputed  to  be  a  witch :  her  he 
greatly  suspected  to  be  one  of  the  confe- 
deracy, and  immediately  he  hasted  away 
to  her  hut ;  and,  entering,  he  found  her 
lying  upon  her  bed,  and  bleeding  excess- 
ively. 

This  alone  was  some  confirmation  of 
the  justness  of  his  suspicion ;  but  casting 
his  eye  under  the  bed,  there  lay  her  leg 
in  its  natural  form. 

I  must  confess  I  was  amazed  at  the 
conclusion  of  this  narration ;  but  ten  times 
more,  when,  with  the  most  serious  air,  he 
assured  me  that  he  had  seen  a  certificate 
of  the  truth  of  it,  signed  by  four  ministers 
of  that  part  of  the  country,  and  could  pro- 
cure me  a  sight  of  it  in  a  few  days,  if  I 
had  the  curiosity  to  see  it.  « 

When  he  had  finished  his  story,  I  used 
all  the  arguments  I  was  master  of,  to  show 
him  the  absurdity  of  supposing  that  a  wo- 
man could  be  transformed  into  the  shape 
and  diminutive  substance  of  a  cat;  to 
vanish  like  a  flash  of  fire ;  carry  her  leg 
home  with  her,  &c. :  and  I  told  him,  that 
if  a  certificate  of  the  truth  of  it  had  been 
signed  by  every  member  of  the  general 
assembly,  it  would  be  impossible  for  me 
(however  strong  my  inclinations  were  to 
believe)  to  bring  my  mind  to  assent  to  it. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, 

As  a  small  matter  of  use  and  curiosity, 
I  beg  to  acquaint  the  readers  of  the 
Every-Day  Book  with  the  means  of  deter- 
mining the  gradual  increase  of  a  plant. 

Take  a  straight  piece  of  wood,  of  a  con- 
venient height ;  the  upright  piece,  parked 
A  B  in  the  figure,  may  be  divided  into  as 


many  parts  as  you  think  fit,  in  the  manner 
of  a  carpenter's  rule :  lay  across  the  top 
of  this  another  piece  of  wood,  marked  G 
with  a  small  wheel,  or  pulley,  at  each  end 
thereof,  marked  C  D ;  they  should  be  su 
fixed  that  a  fine  thread  of  silk  may  easily 
run  through  each  of  them  :  at  the  end  ot 
this  thread,  E,  tie  a  small  weight,  or  poise, 
and  tie  the  other  end  of  the  thread,  F,  to 
the  tip-top  of  the  plant,  as  represented  iu 
the  figure. 


To  find  the  daily  increase  of  this 
plant,  observe  to  what  degree  the  knot  F 
rises  every  day,  at  a  particular  hour,  or  to 
what  degree  the  ball  E  descends  every 
day. 

This  little  machine  may  serve  several 
good  purposes.     By  this  you  will  be  able 
to  judge  how  much  nourishment  a  plant 
receives  in  the  course  of  each  day,  and  a 
tolerably  just  notion  may  be  formed  of  its 
quality;    for  moist  plants  grow  quicker 
than   dry  ones,  and   the   hot  and  moist 
quicker  than  the  cold  and  dry. 
I  am,  sir, 
Your  constant  reader, 

S.  THOMAS. 

January  24th,  1826. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, 

Perhaps  the  following  parody  of  Moore's 
beautiful  melody,  "  Those  Evening  Bells," 
on  p.  143,  may  be  acceptable  to  your 
readers,  at  a  time  like  the  present,  when 
a  laugh  helps  out  the  spirits  against 
matter-of-fact  evils. 

I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  avow 
myself  as  an  "  authority "  for  my  little 


187 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. —FEBRUARY  4. 


188 


communication;  many  of  your  readers 
will,  no  doubt,  be  able  to  furnish  feeling 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  lines.  Hoping 
you,  sir,  may  read  them  without  parti- 
cipating in  the  lively  sensibility  that  the 
author  felt,  I  remain, 

Your  admiring  reader, 
and  regular  customer, 
A  SMALL  BOOKSELLER  ! 

City,  Jan.  1826. 

"  These  Christmas  Bills  /" 

A  COMMERCIAL  MELODY,  1826. 

These  Christmas  bills,  these  Christmas  bills, 
How  many  a  thought  their  number  kills 
Of  notes  and  cash,  and  that  sweet  time 
When  oft'  I  heard  my  sovereigns  chime. 

Those  golden  days  are  past  away, 
And  many  a  bill  I  used  to  pay 
Sticks  on  the  file,  and  empty  tills 
Contain  no  cash  for  Christmas  bills. 

And  so  'twill  be — though  these  are  paid, 
More  Christmas  bills  will  still  be  made, 
And  other  men  will  fear  these  ills, 
And  curse  the  name  of  Christmas  bills  ! 


COPY    OF    A    LETTER 

Written  to  a  Domestic  at  Parting. 

The  cheerfulness  and  readiness  with 
which  you  have  always  served  me,  has 
made  me  interested  in  your  welfare,  and 
determined  me  to  give  you  a  few  words 
of  advice  before  we  part.  Read  this  at- 
tentively, and  keep  it;  it  may,  perhaps, 
be  useful. 

Your  honesty  and  principles  are,  I 
firmly  trust,  unshaken.  Consider  them 
as  the  greatest  treasure  a  human  being 
can  possess.  While  this  treasure  is  in 
your  possession  you  can  never  be  hurt, 
let  what  will  happen.  You  will  indeed 
often  feel  pain  and  grief,  for  no  human 
being  ever  was  without  his  share  of  them ; 
out  you  can  never  be  long  and  completely 
miserable  but  by  your  own  fault. 

If,  therefore,  you  are  ever  tempted  to 
do  evil,  check  the  first  wicked  thought 
that  rises  in  your  mind,  or  else  you  are 
ruined.  For  you  may  look  upon  this  as 
a  most  certain  and  infallible  truth,  that  if 
evil  thoughts  are  for  a  moment  encou- 
raged, evil  deeds  follow :  and  you  need 
not  be  told,  that  whoever  has  lost  his 
good  conscience  is  miserable,  however  he 
may  hide  it  from  the  world,  and  whatever 
wealth  and  pleasures  he  may  enjoy. 

And  you  may  also  rely  upon  this,  that 
the  most  miserable  among  the  virtuous  is 


infinitely  happier  than  the  happiest  of  the 
wicked. 

The  consequence  I  wish  you  to  draw 
from  all  this  is,  never  to  do  any  thing  ex- 
cept what  you  certainly  know  to  be  right ; 
for  if  you  doubt  about  the  lawfulness  ot 
any  thing,  it  is  a  sign  that  it  ought  not  to 
be  done. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  32. 

jfefiruarp  4. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  4th  of  February,  1800,  the  rev, 
William  Tasker,  remarkable  for  his  leain- 
ing  and  eccentricity,  died,  aged  60,  at 
Iddesleigh,  in  Devonshire,  of  which 
church  he  was  rector  near  thirty  yeais, 
though  he  had  not  enjoyed  the  income  ol 
the  living  till  within  five  years  before  his 
death,  in  consequence  of  merciless  and  se- 
vere persecutions  and  litigations.  "  An 
Ode  to  the  Warlike  Genius  of  Britain, 
1778,"  4to.,  was  the  first  effusion  of  his 
poetical  talent.  His  translations  of  "  Se- 
lect Odes  of  Pindar  and  Horace  "  add  to 
his  reputation  with  the  muses,  whose 
smiles  he  courted  by  many  miscellaneous 
efforts.  He  wrote  "  Arviragus,"  a  trage- 
dy, and  employed  the  last  years  of  his 
checkered  life  on  a  "History  of  Physi- 
ognomy from  Aristotle  to  Lavater," 
wherein  he  illustrated  the  Greek  philoso- 
pher's knowledge  of  the  subject  in  a  man- 
ner similar  to  that  which  he  pursued  in 
"  An  Attempt  to  examine  the  several 
Wounds  and  Deaths  of  the  Heroes  in  the 
Iliad  and  ^E-neid,  trying  them  by  the  Test 
of  Anatomy  and  Physiology."  These  eru- 
dite dissertations  contributed  to  his  credit 
with  the  learned,  but  added  nothing  to  his 
means  of  existence.  He  usually  wore  a 
ragged  coat,  the  shirt  peeping  at  the  el- 
bows, and  shoes  of  a  brownish  black, 
sometimes  tied  with  packthread.  Having 
heard  that  his  spirited  "  Ode  to  the  War- 
like Genius  of  Britain"  had  been  read  by 
the  late  king,  George  III.,  he  presented 
himself,  in  his  customary  habit,  on  the  es  • 
planade  at  Weymouth,  where  it  excited 
curiosity  ;  and  his  majesty  asking  an  at- 
tendant who  that  person  was  ?  Mr.  Tasker 
approached,  avowed  his  name,  and  ob- 
tained a  gratifying  reception.  His  pro- 
ductions evince  critical  skill,  and  a  large 
portion  of  poetic  furor.  Bu-t  he  was  af- 


189 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  4. 


190 


flicted  and  unsuccessful ;  frequently  strug- 
gling with  penury,  and  sometimes  with 
oppression.  His  irritability  subjected  him 
to  numerous  mortifications,  and  inflicted 
on  him  many  pangs  unknown  to  minds  of 
less  feeling  or  less  delicacy. 

Mr.  Nichols,  in  his  "Literary  Anec- 
dotes," gives  a  letter  he  received  from 
Mr.  Tasker,  dated  from  Iddesleigh,  in 
December,  1798,  wherein  he  says,  "I 
continue  in  very  ill  health,  and  confined 
in  my  dreary  situation  at  Starvation  Hall, 
forty  miles  below  Exeter,  out  of  the  verge 
of  literature,  and  where  even  your  exten- 
sive magazine  [<  The  Gentleman's  ']  has 
never  yet  reached."  The  works  he  put 
forth  from  his  solitude  procured  him  no 
advancement  in  the  church,  and,  in  the 
agony  of  an  excruciating  complaint,  he 
departed  from  a  world  insensible  to  his 
merits : — his  widow  essayed  the  publi- 
cation of  his  works  by  subscription  with- 
out effect.  Such  was  the  fate  of  an  eru- 
dite and  deserving  parish  priest,  whose 
right  estimation  of  honourable  independ- 
ence barred  him  from  stooping  to  the 
meanness  of  flattery;  he  preserved  his 
self-respect,  and  died  without  preferment, 
and  in  poverty. 

A    CHARACTER. 

The  Old  Lady. 

If  the  Old  Lady  is  a  widow  and  lives 
alone,  the  manners  of  her  condition  and 
time  of  life  are  so  much  the  more  appa- 
rent. She  generally  dresses  in  plain  silks 
that  make  a  gentle  rustling  as  she  moves 
about  the  silence  of  her  room ;  and  she 
wears  a  nice  cap  with  a  lace  border  that 
comes  under  the  chin.  In  a  placket  at 
her  side  is  an  old  enamelled  watch,  unless 
it  is  locked  up  in  a  drawer  of  her  toilet 
for  fear  of  accidents.  Her  waist  is  rather 
tight  and  trim  than  otherwise,  as  she  had 
a  fine  one  when  young ;  and  she  is  not 
sorry  if  you  see  a  pair  of  her  stockings  on 
a  table,  that  you  may  be  aware  of  the 
neatness  of  her  leg  and  foot.  Contented 
with  these  and  other  evident  indications 
of  a  good  shape,  and  letting  her  young 
friends  understand  that  she  can  afford  to 
obscure  it  a  little,  she  wears  pockets,  and 
uses  them  well  too.  In  the  one  is  her 
handkerchief,  and  any  heavier  matter  that 
is  not  likely  to  come  out  with  it,  such  as 
the  change  of  a  sixpence; — in  the  other  is 
a  miscellaneous  assortment,  consisting  of 
a  pocket-book,  a  bunch  of  keys,  a  needle- 
case,  a  spectacle-case,  crumbs  of  biscuit, 


a  nutmeg  and  grater,  a  smelling-bottle, 
and  according  to  the  season,  an  orange  or 
apple,  which,  after  many  days,  she  draws 
out,  warm  and  glossy,  to  give  to  some 
little  child  that  has  well  behaved  itself. 
She  generally  occupies  two  rooms,  in  the 
neatest  condition  possible.  In  the  cham- 
ber is  a  bed  with  a  white  coverlet,  built  up 
high  and  round  to  look  well,  and  with  cur- 
tains  of  a  pastoral  pattern,  consisting  al- 
ternately of  large  plants,  and  shepherds 
and  shepherdesses.  On  the  mantle- 
piece  also  are  more  shepherds  and 
shepherdesses,  with  dot-eyed  sheep  at 
their  feet,  all  in  coloured  ware,  the  man 
perhaps  in  a  pink  jacket  and  knots  of  rib- 
bons at  his  knees  and  shoes,  holding  his 
crook  lightly  in  one  hand,  and  with  the 
other  at  his  breast  turning  his  toes  out 
and  looking  tenderly  at  the  shepherdess  : 
— the  woman,  holding  a  crook  also,  and 
modestly  returning  his  look,  with  a  gip- 
sy-hat jerked  up  behind,  a  very  slender 
waist,  with  petticoat  and  hips  to  counter- 
act, and  the  petticoat  pulled  up  through 
the  pocket-holes  in  order  to  show  the  trim- 
ness  of  her  ancles.  But  these  patterns,  of 
course,  are  various.  The  toilet  is  ancient, 
carved  at  the  edges,  and  tied  about  with 
a  snow-white  drapery  of  muslin.  Beside 
it  are  various  boxes,  mostly  japan  :  and 
the  set  of  drawers  are  exquisite  things  for 
a  little  girl  to  rummage,  if  ever  little  girl 
be  so  bold, — containing  ribbons  arid  laces 
of  various  kinds, — linen  smelling  of  laven- 
der, of  the  flowers  of  which  there  is  al- 
ways dust  in  the  corners, — a  heap  of 
pocket-books  for  a  series  of  years, —  and 
pieces  of  dress  long  gone  by,  such  as 
head-fronts,  stomachers,  and  flowered  satin 
shoes  with  enormous  heels.  The  stock  of 
letters  are  always  under  especial  lock  and 
key.  So  much  for  the  bed-room.  In  the 
sitting-room,  is  rather  a  spare  assortment 
of  shining  old  mahogany  furniture,  or 
carved  arm-chairs  equally  old,  with  chintz 
draperies  down  to  the  ground, — a  folding 
or  other  screen  with  Chinese  figures,  their 
round,  little-eyed,  meek  faces  perking  side- 
wise  ; — a  stuffed  bird  perhaps  in  a  glass 
case  (a  living  one  is  too  much  for  her ;) — 
a  portrait  of  her  husband  over  the  mantle- 
piece,  in  a  coat  with  frog-buttons,  and  a 
delicate  frilled  hand  lightly  inserted  in  the 
waistcoat: — and  opposite  him,  on  the 
wall,  is  a  piece  of  embroidered  literature, 
framed  and  glazed,  containing  some  moral 
distich  or  maxim  worked  in  angular  capi- 
tal letters,  with  two  trees  or  parrots  below 
in  their  proper  colours,  the  whole  con- 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  4. 


192 


eluding  with  an  A  BC  and  numerals,  and 
the  name  of  the  fair  industrious,  express- 
ing it  to  be  "  her  work,  Jan.  14,  1762." 
The  rest  of  the  furniture  consists  of  a 
looking-glass  with  carved  edges,  perhaps 
a  settee,  a  hassock  for  the  feet,  a  mat  for 
the  little  dog,  and  a  small  set  of  shelves, 
in  which  are  the  Spectator  and  Guardian, 
the  Turkish  Spy,  a  Bible  and  Prayer-book, 
Young's  Night-Thoughts,  with  a  piece  of 
lace  in  it  to  flatten,  Mrs.  Rowe's  Devout 
Exercises  of  the  Heart,  Mrs.  Glasse's 
Cookery,  and  perhaps  Sir  Charles  Gran- 
dison,  and  Clarissa.  John  Buncle  is  in 
the  closet  among  the  pickles  and  preserves. 
The  clock  is  on  the  landing-place  between 
the  two  room-doors,  where  it  ticks  audibly 
but  quietly;  and  the  landing-place,  as 
well  as  the  stairs,  is  carpeted  to  a  nicety. 
The  house  is  most  in  character,  and  pro- 
perly coeval,  if  it  is  in  a  retired  suburb, 
and  strongly  built,  with  wainscot  rather 
than  paper  inside,  and  lockers  in  the  win- 
dows. Before  the  windows  also  should 
be  some  quivering  poplars.  Here  the  Old 
Lady  receives  a  few  quiet  visitors  to  tea 
and  perhaps  an  early  game  at  cards ;  or 
you  may  sometimes  see  her  going  out  on 
the  same  kind  of  visit  herself,  with  a  light 
umbrella  turning  up  into  a  stick  and 
crooked  ivory  handle,  and  her  little  dog 
equally  famous  for  his  love  to  her  and 
captious  antipathy  to  strangers.  Her 
grandchildren  dislike  him  on  holidays; 
and  the  boldest  sometimes  ventures  to 
give  him  a  sly  kick  under  the  table. 
When  she  returns  at  night,  she  appears, 
if  the  weather  happens  to  be  doubtful,  in 
a  calash ;  and  her  servant,  in  pattens,  fol- 
lows half  behind  and  half  at  her  side,  with 
a  lantern. 

Her  opinions  are  not  many,  nor  new. 
She  thinks  the  clergyman  a  nice  man. 
The  duke  of  Wellington,  in  her  opinion, 
is  a  very  great  man ;  but  she  has  a  secret 
preference  for  the  marquis  of  Granby. 
She  thinks  the  young  women  of  the  pre- 
sent day  too  forward,  and  the  men  not 
respectful  enough :  but  hopes  her  grand- 
children will  be  better ;  though  she  differs 
with  her  daughter  in  several  points  re- 
specting their  management.  She  sets 
little  value  on  the  new  accomplishments  : 
is  a  great  though  delicate  connoisseur  in 
butcher's  meat  and  all  sorts  of  house- 
wifery :  and  if  you  mention  waltzes,  ex- 
patiates on  the  grace  and  fine  breeding  of 
the  minuet.  She  longs  to  have  seen  one 
danced  by  sir  Charles  Grandison,  whom 
she  almost  considers  as  a  real  person.  She 


likes  a  walk  of  a  summer's  evening,  but 
avoids  the  new  streets,  canals,  &c.  and 
sometimes  goes  through  the  church-yard 
where  her  other  children  and  her  husband 
lie  buried,  serious,  but  not  melancholy. 
She  has  had  three  great  aeras  in  her  life, — 
her  marriage, — her  having  been  at  court 
to  see  the  king,  queen,  and  royal  family, — 
and  a  compliment  on  her  figure  she  once 
received  in  passing  from  Mr.  Wilkes, 
whom  she  describes  as  a  sad  loose  man, 
but  engaging.  His  plainness  she  thinks 
much  exaggerated.  If  any  thing  takes 
her  at  a  distance  from  home,  it  is  still  the 
court ;  but  she  seldom  stirs  even  for  that. 
The  last  time  but  one  that  she  went  was 
to  see  the  duke  of  Wirtemberg :  and  she 
has  lately  been,  most  probably  for  the  last 
time  of  all,  to  see  the  princess  Charlotte 
and  prince  Leopold.  From  this  beatific 
rision,  she  returned  with  the  same  admi- 
ration as  ever  for  the  fine  comely  appear- 
ance of  the  duke  of  York  and  the  rest  of 
the  family,  and  great  delight  at  having 
had  a  near  view  of  the  princess,  whom 
she  speaks  of  with  smiling  pomp  and 
lifted  mittens,  clasping  them  as  passion- 
ately as  she  can  together,  and  calling  her, 
in  a' sort  of  transport  of  mixed  loyalty  and 
self-love,  a  fine  royal  young  creature,  and 
daughter  of  England. — Indicator. 

The  Season. 

•  Sudden  storms  of  short  duration,  th-i 
last  blusters  of  expiring  winter,  frequently 
occur  during  the  early  part  of  the  present 
month.  These  gales  and  gusts  are  mostly 
noticed  by  mariners,  who  expect  them, 
and  therefore  keep  a  good  "  look  out  for 
squalls."  The  observations  of  seamen 
upon  the  clouds,  and  of  husbandmen  on 
the  natural  appearances  vof  the  weather 
generally,  would  form  an  exceedingly  cu- 
rious and  useful  compendium  of  meteoro- 
logical facts. 

Stilling  the  Sea  with  Oil. 
Dr.  Franklin  suggests  the  pouring  of 
oil  on  the  sea  to  still  the  waves  in  a 
storm,  but,  before  he  lived,  Martin  wrote 
an  "  Account  of  the  Western  Islands  of 
Scotland,"  wherein  he  says,  "  The  steward 
of  Kilda,  who  lives  in  Pabbay,  is  accus- 
tomed in  time  of  a  storm  to  tie  a  bundle 
of  puddings,  made  of  the  fat  of  sea-fowl, 
to  the  end  of  his  cable,  and  lets  it  fall  into 
the  sea  behind  the  rudder ;  this,  he  says, 
hinders  the  waves  from  breaking,  and 
calms  the  sea;  but  the  scent  of  the  grease 
attracts  the  whales,  which  put  the  vessel 
m  danger." 


103 


THE  EVEItt-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  5. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  •  34. 


jfebruarp  5. 


Brotone  WHUte,  e$q.  fcfc. ». 

A  Doctor  in  Antiquity  was  he, 

And  Tyson  lined  his  head,  as  now  you  see. 

Kind,  good  "  collector  !"  why  "  collect"  that  storm  ? 

No  rude  attempt  is  made  to  mar  his  form  ; 

No  alteration  's  aim'd  at  here— for,  though 

The  artist's  touch  has  help'd  to  make  it  show, 

The  meagre  contour  only  is  supplied — 

Is  it  improved  ?— compare,  and  then  decide. 

Had  Tyson,  «  from  the  life,"  Browne  Willis  sketch'd, 

And  left  him,  like  old  Jacob  Butler,*  etch'd, 

This  essay  had  not  been,  to  better  trace 

The  only  likeness  of  an  honour'd  face.  * 

The  present    engraving,  however  un-  picture  painted  by  Dahl.      There  is  no 
winning  its  aspect  as  to  drawing,  is,  in  other  portrait  of  "  the  great  original"  pub- 
other  respects,    an  improvement  of  the  lished. 
late  Mr.  Michael  Tyson's   etching  from  a 


VOL.  II.— 59. 


See  "Every-DnyBooli,"  rol.  i.   p.  1303. 


195 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  6,  7. 


196 


On  the  5th  of  February,  1760,  Dr. 
Browne  Willis  died  at  Whaddon  hall,  in 
the  county  of  Bucks,  aged  78  ;  he  v/as 
born  at  St.  Mary  Blandford,  in  the  county 
of  Dorset,  on  the  14th  of  September, 
1682.  He  \vas  unexcelled  in  eagerness 
of  inquiry  concerning  our  national  an- 
tiquities, and  his  life  was  devoted  to  their 
study  and  arrangement.  Some  interest- 
ing particulars  concerning  the  published 
labours  and  domestic  habits  of  this  dis- 
tinguished individual,  will  be  given  in  a 
subsequent  sheet,  with  one  of  his  letters, 
not  before  printed,  accompanied  by  a  fac- 
simile of  his  handwriting. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  20. 

jfebruarp  6. 

COLLOP  MONDAY.     See  vol.  i.  p.  241. 


The  Season  and  Smoking. 

At  this  time,  Dr.  Forster  says  that 
people  should  guard  against  colds,  and, 
above  all,  against  the  contagion  of  typhus 
and  other  fevers,  which  are  apt  to  prevail 
in  the  early  spring.  "  Smoking  tobacco,* 
he  observes,  "  is  a  very  salutary  practice 
in  general,  as  well  as  being  a  preventive 
against  infection  in  particular.  The  Ger- 
man pipes  are  the  best,  and  get  better  as 
they  are  used,  particularly  those  made  of 
merschaum,  called  Ecume  de  Mer.  Next 
to  these,  the  Turkey  pipes,  with  long 
tubes,  are  to  be  recommended  ;  but  these 
are  fitter  for  summer  smoking,  under  the 
shade  of  trees,  than  for  the  fireside.  The 
best  tobacco  is  the  Turkey,  the  Persian, 
and  what  is  called  Dutch  canaster. 
Smoking  is  a  custom  which  should  be  re- 
commended in  the  close  cottages  of  the 
poor,  and  in  great  populous  towns  liable 
to  contagion. 


The  Rule  of  Health. 

Rise  early,  and,  take  exercise  in  plenty, 

But  always  take  it  with  your  stomach  empty. 

After  your  meals  sit  still  and  rest  awhile, 

And  with  your  pipe  a  careless  hour  beguile. 

To  rise  at  light  or  five,  breakfast  at  nine, 

Lounge  till  eleven,  and  at'five  to  dine, 

To  drink  and  smoke  till  seven,  the  time  of  tea, 

And  then  to  dance  or  walk  two  hours  away 

Till  ten  o'clock, — good  hour  to  go  to  nest, 

Till  the  next  cock  shall  wake  you  from  your  rest. 


On  the  virtues  of  tobacco  its  users  en- 
hance with  mighty  eloquence,  and  puff  it 
bravely. 

In  praise  of  Tobacco. 

Much  food  doth  gluttony  procure 

to  feed  men  fat  like  swine, 
But  he's  a  frugal  man  indeed 

who  on  a  leaf  can  dine. 

He  needs  no  napkin  for  his  hands, 

his  finger  ends  to  wipe, 
Who  has  his  kitchen  in  a  box, 

his  roast-meat  in  a  pipe. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  47. 


jftfbruarp  7. 

1826. SHROVE  TUESDAY. 

Several  of  the  customs  and  sports  of 
this  day  are  related  in  vbl  i.  p.  242-261. 
It  is  the  last  meat  day  permitted  by  the 
papacy  before  Lent,  which  commences 
to-morrow,  and  therefore  in  former  times, 
full  advantage  was  taken  of  the  expiring 
opportunity  to  feast  and  make  merry. 
Selden  observes,  "that  what  the  church 
debars  us  one  day,  she  gives  us  leave 
to  eat  another— first,  there  is  a  carni- 
val, and  then  a  Lent."  This  period  is 
also  recorded  in  the  homely  rhymes  oi 
Barnaby  Googe. 

Shrove-tide. 
Now  when  at  length  the  pleasant  time 

of  Shrove-tide  comes  in  place, 
And  cruell  fasting  dayes  at  hand 

approach  with  solemne  grace . 


197 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  8. 


198 


Then  olde  and  yong  are  both  as  mad, 

as  ghestes  of  Bacchus'  feast, 
And  foure  dayes  long  they  tipple  square, 

and  feede  and  never  reast. 
Downe  goes  the  hogges  in  every  place, 

and  puddings  every  wheare 
Do  swarme  :  the  dice  are  shakte  and  tost, 

and  cardes  apace  they  teare  : 
In  every  house  are  showtes  and  cryes, 

and  mirth,  and  revell  route, 
And  daintie  tables  spred,  and  all 

be  set  with  ghestes  aboute  : 
With  sundrie  playes  and  Christmasse  games, 

and  feare  and  shame  away, 
The  tongue  is  set  at  libertie, 

and  hath  no  kinde  of  stay.  • 

Naogeorgus. 

The  Great  Seal  in  Danger. 

February  7,  1677,  about  one  in  the 
morning,  the  lord  chancellor  Finch's 
mace  was  stolen  out  of  his  house  in 
Queen-street;  the  seal  laid  under  his 

Eillow,    so    the    thief   missed    it.     The 
imous   thief  that   did   it  was    Thomas 
Sadler,   he   was   soon    after   taken,  and 
hanged  for  it  at  Tyburn   on  the  16th  of 
March.* 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature.  .  .  37-  37. 

jftftruarp  8. 

1826. — ASH  WEDNESPAY, 
The  First  Day  of  Lent. 

To  the  particulars  concerning  this  day, 
and  the  ashes,  (in  vol.  i.  p.  261,)  is  to  be 
added,that  the  ashes,  made  of  the  branches 
of  brushwood,  properly  cleansed,  sifted, 
and  consecrated,  were  worn  four  times  a 
year,  as  at  the  beginning  of  Lent ;  and 
that  on  this  day  the  people  were  excluded 
from  church,  husbands  and  wives  parted 
bed,  and  the  penitents  wore  sackcloth 
and  ashes.\ 

According  to  the  Benedictine  rule,  on 
Ash  Wednesday,  after  sext,  the  monks  were 
to  return  to  the  cloister  to  converse ; 
but,  at  the  ringing  of  a  bell,  be  instantly 
silent.  They  were  to  unshoe  themselves, 
wash  their  hands,  and  go  to  church,  and 
make  one  common  prayer*  Then  was  to 
follow  a  religious  service  ;  after  which  the 
priest,  having  consecrated  the  ashes,  and 
sprinkled  holy  water  on  them,  was  to 

*  Life  of  Ant.  a  Wood. 
+  Fosbroke's  British  Monachism. 


throw  them  on  the  heads  of  the  monks, 
saying,  "  Remember  that  you  are  but 
dust,  and  to  dust  must  return."  Then 
"  the  procession"  was  to  follow.* 

In  former  times,  on  the  evening  of  Ash 
Wednesday,  boys  used  to  run  about  with 
firebrands  and  torches. f 

Lent  Assizes  and  Sessions. 

These  follow,  in  due  course,  after  Hilary 
Term,  which  is  within  a  week  of  its  ex- 
piration. The  importance  of  assize  and 
sessions  business  is  frequently  interrupted 
by  cases  not  more  serious  than 

Cfte  Crfal 

Of  Farmer  Carters  Dog 
PORTER 

dfov  JHurtrtr. 

Edward  Long,  esq.,  late  judge  of  the 
admiralty  court  of  Jamaica,  wrote  and 
published  this  "  Trial,"|  which  is  now 
scarce,  and  here  somewhat  abridged  from, 
the  original  without  other  alteration. 

He  commences  his  report  thus  : — 
County  of  SEX-\ 

GOTHAM,  ss.J 
At  a  High  Court  of  Oyer  and  Terminer 

and  Gaol-Delivery,  holden  this  —  day 

of 1771,  at  Gotham- Hall. 

Present : 


J.  Bottle,  ~Esq.. 

**  j    r**}  *fu      (Esqs.,  Just-asses  and 
Mat  o  the  Mill,     V  A^oc'iates. 
Osmyn  Ponser,      J 

GAME-ACT  Plaintiff 

versus 

PORTER  Defendant. 

The  Court  being  met,  the  indictment 
was  read,  which  we  omit,  for  sake  of 
brevity. 

Court.  Prisoner,  hold  up  your  paw  at 
the  bar. 

First  Counsel.  He  is  sullen,  and  re* 
fuses. 

Court.     Is  he  so  ?    Why  then  let  t* 
constable  hold  it  up,  nolens  volens. 
[Which  was  done,  according  to  order/ 
Court.     What  is  the  prisoner's  name*. 
Constable.     P-P-Po-rt-er,  an't  ple*« 
your  worship. 

Court.     What  does  the  fellow  say  ? 
Constable.     Porter!  an't  please  you; 
Porter  ! 

*  Fosbmke's  British  Monachism.         t  Ibid. 
J  Printed  for  T.  Lowrides,  1771.  8vo. 


159 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEIUIUARY  8 


200 


Mat.  lie  says  Porter,  It's  the  name 
of  a  liquor  the  London  kennel*  much  de- 
light in. 

Ponser.  Ay,  'tis  so;  and  1  remember 
another  namesake  of  his.  I  was  hand 
in  glove  with  him,  I'll  tell  you  a  droll 
story  about  him — 

Court.  Hush,  brother.  Culprit,  how 
will  you  be  tried  ? 

Counsel  for  the  Prosecution.  Please 
your  worship,  he  won't  say  a  word. 
Stat  mutus — as  mute  as  a  fish. 


Court.  How  ?  —  what  ?  —  won't  the 
dog  speak  ?  Won't  he  do  what  the  court 
bids  him  ?  What's  to  be  done  ?  Is  the 
dignity  of  this  court  to  be  trifled  with  in 
such  a  manner  ? 

Counsel  for  Pros.  Please  your  wor- 
ships—it is  provided  by  the  statute  in 
these  cases,  that  when  a  culprit  is  stub- 
born, and  refuses  to  plead,  he  is  to  be 
made  to  plead  whether  he  will  or  no. 

Court.     Ay  ?      How's  that,  pray  ? 

Counsel  for  Pros.  Why,  the  statute 
says — that  he  must  first  of  all  be  thumb- 
screwed — 

Court.     Very  good. 

Counsel  for  Pros.  If  that  will  not  do, 
he  must  be  laid  flat  on  his  back,  and 
squeezed,  like  a  cheese  in  a  press,  with 
heavy  weights. 

Court.     Very  well.     And  what  then? 

Counsel  for  Pros.  What  then?  Why, 
when  all  the  breath  is  squeezed  out  of  his 
body,  if  he  should  still  continue  dumb, 
which  sometimes  has  been  the  case,  he 
generally  dies  for  want  of  breath. 

*  His  worship  meant    canaille. 


Court.     Very  likely. 

Counsel  for  Pros.  And  thereby  saves 
the  court  a  great  deal  of  trouble ;  and 
the  nation,  the  expense  of  a  halter. 

Court.  Well,  then,  since  the  land 
stands  thus — constable,  twist  a  cord  about 
the  culprit's — 

Counsel  for  Pros.     Fore-paws. 

Constable.  Four  paws  ?  Why  he  has 
but  two. 

Court.  Fore-paws,  or  fore-feet,  block- 
head !  and  strain  it  as  tight  as  you  can, 
'till  you  make  him  open  his  mouth. 

[The  constable  attempted  to  enforce  the 
order,  but  in  drawing  a  little  too 
hard,  received  a  severe  bite.] 

Constable.  'Sblood  and  suet!  lie 
has  snapped  off  a  piece  of  my  nose. 

Court.  Mr.  Constable,  you  are  within 
the  statute  of  swearing,  and  owe  the  court 
one  shilling. 

Constable.  Zounds  and  death  !  your 
worships !  I  could  not  kelp  it  for  the 
blood  o'  me. 

Court.     Now  you  owe  us  two  shillings. 

Constable.      That's  a    d d    bad 

plaster,  your  worships,  for  a  sore  nose ! 

Court.  That  being  but  half  an  oath, 
the  whole  fine  amounts  to  two  shillings 
and  sixpence,  or  a  half-crown  bowl.  So, 
without  going  further,  if  you  are  afraid  of 
his  teeth,  apply  this  pair  of  nut- crackers 
to  his  tail. 

Constable.     I  shall,  your  worships. 
[He  had  better  success  with  the  tail,  as 
will  now  appear.] 

Prisoner.  Bow,  trow,  wow,  ow, 
tv  ow  ! 

Court.  Hold!  Enough.  That  will 
do. 

It  was  now  held  that  though  the  pri- 
soner expressed  himself  in  a  strange  lan- 
guage, yet,  as  he  could  speak  no  other, 
and  as  the  law  can  not  only  make  dogs 
to  speak,  but  explain  their  meaning  too, 
so  the  law  understood  and  inferred  that 
the  prisoner  pleaded  not  guilty,  and  put 
himself  upon  his  trial.  Issue  therefore 
being  joined,  the  Counsel  for  the  Prose- 
cution proceeded  to  address  the  Court; 
but  was  stopped  by  the  other  side. 

Prisoner's  Counsel.  I  take  leave  to 
demur  to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  court.  If 
he  is  to  have  a  trial  per  pares,  you  must 
either  suppose  their  worships  to  be  his 
equals,  that  is  to  say,  not  his  betters, 
which  would  be  a  great  indignity,  or  else 
you  must  have  a  venire  for  a  jury  of 
twelve  dogs.  I  think  you  are  fairly  caught 
in  this  dilemma. 


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THE  EVER   -DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  8. 


202 


Counsel  for  Pros.  By  no  means.  It 
's  easily  cured.  We'll  send  the  constable 
with  a  Mandamus  to  his  Grace  '*  kennel. 

Pris.  Counsel.  They  are  fox  hounds. 
Not  the  same  species ;  therefore  not  his 
equals.  I  do  not  object  to  the  harriers, 
aor  to  a  tales  de  circumstantibus. 

Counsel  for  Pros.  That's  artful, 
brother,  but  it  won't  take.  I  smoke  your 
intention  of  garbling  a  jury.  You  know 
the  harriers  will  be  partial,  and  acquit 
your  client  at  any  rate.  Neither  will  we 
have  any  thing  to  do  with  your  tales. 

Mat.  No — no — you  say  right.  I  hate 
your  tales  and  tale-bearers.  They  are  a 
rascally  pack  altogether. 

Counsel  for  Pros.  Besides,  the  statute 
gives  your  worships  ample  jurisdiction  in 
this  case ;  and  if  it  did  not  give  it,  your 
worships  know  how  to  take  it,  because 
the  law  says,  boni  est  judicis  ampliare 
jurisdictionem. 

Pris.  Counsel.  Then  —  I  demur  for 
irregularity.  The  prisoner  is  a  dog,  and 
cannot  be  triable  as  a  man — ergo,  not 
within  the  intent  of  the  statute. 

Counsel  for  Pros.  That's  a  poor  sub- 
terfuge. If  the  statute  respects  a  man, 
(a  fortiori)  it  will  affect  a  dog. 

Ponser.  You  are  certainly  right.  For 
when  I  was  in  the  Turkish  dominions,  I 
saw  an  Hebrew  Jew  put  to  death  for 
killing  a  dog,  although  dog  was  the 
aggressor. 

Counsel  for  Pros.  A  case  in  point, 
please  your  worship.  And  a  very 
curious  and  learned  one  it  is.  And  the 
plain  induction  from  it  is  this,  that  the 
Jew  (who  I  take  for  granted  was  a  man) 
being  put  to  death  for  killing  dog,  it 
follows  that  said  dog  was  as  respectable 
a  person,  and  of  equal  rank  in  society 
with  the  said  Jew  ;  and  therefore — ergo — 
and  moreover — That,  said  dog,  so  slain, 
was,  to  all  and  every  purpose  of  legal 
inference  and  intendment,  neither  more 
nor  less  than — a  man. 

Court.  We  are  all  clearly  -of  that 
opinion. 

Counsel  for  Pros.  Please  your  wor- 
ships of  the  honourable  bench.  On 
Saturday  the  day  of  February 

inst.  on  or  about  the  hour  of  five  in  the 
afternoon,  the  deceased  Mr.  Hare  was 
travelling  quietly  about  his  business,  in  a 
certain  highway  or  road  leading  towards 
Muckingham  ;  and  then,  and  there,  the 
prisoner  at  the  bar  being  in  the  same 
road,  in  and  upon  the  body  of  the  de- 
ceased, with  force  and  arms,  a  violent 


assault  did  make  ;  and  further,  not  hav- 
ing the  fear  of  your  worships  before  his 
eyes,  but  being  moved  and  seduced  by 
the  instigation  of  a  devilish  fit  of  hunger, 
he  the  said  prisoner  did  him  the  said 
deceased,  in  the  peace  of  our  lord  of  the 
manor  then  and  there  being,  feloniously, 
wickedly,  wantonly,  and  of  malice  afore- 
thought, tear,  wound,  pull,  haul,  touzle, 
masticate,  macerate,  lacerate,  and  dislo- 
cate, and  otherwise  evilly  intreat;  of 
all  and  singular  which  tearings,  wound- 
ings,  pullings,  haulings,  touzleings,  masti- 
cations, and  so  forth,  maliciously  inflicted 
in  manner  and  form  aforesaid,  the  said 
Hare  did  languish,  and  languishing  did 
die,  in  Mr.  Just-ass  Ponser' s  horsepond, 
to  wit,  and  that  is  to  say,  contrary  to  the 
statute  in  that  case  made  and  provided, 
and  against  the  peace  of  our  said  lord,  his 
manor  and  dignity. 

This,  please  your  worships,  is  the  pur- 
port of  the  indictment ;  to  this  indictment 
the  prisoner  has  pleaded  not  guilty,  and 
now  stands  upon  his  trial  before  this 
honourable  bench. 

Your  worships  will  therefore  allow  me, 
before  I  come  to  call  our  evidence,  to  ex- 
patiate a  little  upon  the  heinous  sin, 
wherewith  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  is 
charged.  Hem ! — To  murder, — Ehem — 
To  murder,  may  it  please  your  worships, 
in  Latin,  is — is — Murder  a  re  ; — or  in  the 
true  and  original  sense  of  the  v»ord,  Mur- 
der-ha-re.  H-,  as  your  worships  well 
know,  being  not  as  yet  raised  to  the  dig- 
nity of  a  letter  by  any  act  of  parliament,  it 
follows  that  it  plainly  is  no  other  than 
Murder-a-re,  according  to  modern  refined 
pronunciation.  The  very  root  and  ety- 
mology of  the  word  does  therefore  com- 
prehend in  itself  a  thousand  volumes  in 
folio,  to  show  the  nefarious  and  abomina- 
ble guilt  of  the  prisoner,  in  the  com- 
mission and  perpetration  of  this  horrid 
fact.  And  it  must  appear  as  clear  as 
sunshine  to  your  worships,  that  the  word 
Murderare,  which  denotes  the  prisoner's 
crime,  was  expressly  and  originally  ap- 
plied to  that  crime,  and  to  that  only,  as 
being  the  most  superlative  of  all  possible 
crimes  in  the  world.  I  do  not  deny  that, 
since  it  first  came  out  of  the  mint,  it  has, 
through  corruption,  been  affixed  to 
offences  of  a  less  criminal  nature,  such  as 
killing  a  man,  a  woman,  or  a  child.  But 
the  sense  of  the  earliest  ages  having 
stamped  hare-murder,  or  murder-ha-re, 
(as  the  old  books  have  it,)  with  such  ex- 
traordinary atrociousness,  I  am  sure  that 


203 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  8. 


204 


Just-asses  of  yoi  r  worships'  acknowledged 
and  well-knDwn  wisdom,  piely,  erudition, 
and  humanity,  will  not,  at  this  time  of  the 
day,  be  persuaded  to  hold  it  less  detesta- 
ble and  sinful.  Having  said  thus  much 
on  the  nature  of  the  prisoner's  guilt,  I 
mean  not  to  aggravate  the  charge,  be- 
cause I  shall  always  feel  due  compassion 
for  my  fellow-creatures,  however  wickedly 
they  may  demean  themselves. — I  shall 
next  proceed,  with  your  worships'  leave, 
to  call  our  witnesses.  —  Call  Lawrence 
Lurcher  and  Toby  Tunnel. 

Prls.  Counsel.  I  must  object  to  swear- 
ing these  witnesses, — I  can  prove,  they 
were  both  of  them  drunk,  and  non  compos, 
during  the  whole  evening,  when  this  fact 
is  supposed  to  have  been  committed. 

Bottle.  That  will  do  you  no  service. 
I  am  very  often  drunk  myself,  and  never 
more  in  my  senses  than  at  such  times. 

Court.  We  all  agree  in  this  point 
with  brother  Bottle. 

[Objection  overruled  and  witnesses 
sworn.] 

Lurcher.  As  I,  and  Toby  Tunnel  here, 
was  a  going  hoam  to  squire  Ponser's, 
along  the  road,  one  evening  after  dark, 
we  sees  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  or  some- 
body like  him,  lay  hold  of  the  deceased, 
or  somebody  like  him,  by  the  back,  an't 
please  your  worships.  So,  says  I,  Toby, 
says  I,  that  looks  for  all  the  world  like 
one  of  'squire  Ponser's  hares.  So  the 
deceased  cried  out  pitifully  for  help,  and 
jumped  over  a  hedge,  and  the  prisoner 
after  him,  growling  and  swearing  bitterly 
all  the  way.  So,  says  I,  Toby,  let's  run 
after  'urn.  So  I  scrambled  up  the  hedge  ; 
but  Toby  laid  hold  of  my  leg,  to  help  him- 
self up ;  so  both  of  us  tumbled  through  a 
thick  furze  bush  into  the  ditch.  So,  next 
morning,  as  we  was  a  going  by  the 
squire's,  we  sees  the  deceased  in  his  wor- 
ship's horse-pond. 

Pris.  Counsel.  Are  you  sure  he  was 
dead? 

Lurcher.  Ay,  as  dead  as  my  great 
grandmother. 

Pris.  Counsel.  What  did  you  do  with 
the  body  ? 

Ponser.  That's  not  a  fair  question. 
It  ought  not  to  be  answered. 

Lurcher.  I  bean't  ashamed  nor  afeard 
to  tell,  not  I.  We  carried  it  to  his  wor- 
ship, squire  Ponser  ;  and  his  worship  had 
him  roasted,  with  a  pudding  in  his  belly, 
for  dinner,  that  seame  day. 

Council  for  Pros.      That  is  nothing  to 


the  purpose.  Have  you  any  more  ques- 
tions for  the  witness  ? 

Pris.  Counsel.  Yes,  I  have.  Pray 
friend,  how  do  you  know  the  body  you 
found  was  the  very  same  you  saw  on  the 
evening  before? 

Lurcher.  I  can't  tell ;  but  I'm  ready 
to  take  my  bible  oath  on't. 

Pris.  Counsel.  That  is  a  princely  ar- 
gument, and  I  shall  ask  you  nothing  far- 
ther. 

Mrs.  Margery  Dripping,  cook  to  his 
worship  squire  Ponser,  deposed  to  the 
condition  of  the  deceased. 

DEFENCE 

Prisoner's  Counsel.  Please  your  wor- 
ships, I  am  counsel  for  the  prisoner,  who, 
in  obedience  to  your  worships'  commands, 
has  pleaded  not  guilty ;  and  I  hope  to 
prove  that  his  plea  is  a  good  plea ;  and 
that  he  must  be  acquitted  by  the  justice 
of  his  cause.  In  the  first  place,  the  wit- 
nesses have  failed  in  proving  the  prison- 
er's identity.  Next,  they  have  not  proved 
the  identity  of  the  deceased.  Thirdly, 
they  do  not  prove  who  gave  the  wounds. 
Fourthly,  nor  to  whom  they  were  given. 
Fifthly,  nor  whether  the  party  died  of  the 
wounds,  if  they  were  given,  as  supposed, 
to  this  identical  hare.  For,  I  insist  upon 
it,  that,  because  a  hare  was  found  in  the 
squire's  horse-pond,  non  sequitur,  that  he 
was  killed,  and  thrown  in  by  the  defendant. 
Or,  if  they  had  proved  that  defendant 
had  maliciously,  and  animo  furioso,  pur- 
sued the  deceased  into  the  horse-pond,  it 
does  not  prove  the  defendant  guilty  of  hi& 
death,  because  he  might  owe  his  death  to 
the  water  ;  and  therefore,  in  that  case, 
the  pond  would  be  guilty  ;  and  if  guilty, 
triable  ;  and  if  triable,  punishable  for  the 
same,  and  not  my  client.  And  I  must 
say,(under  favour,)  that  his  worship  would 
likewise  be  particeps  criminis,  for  not 
having  filled  it  up,  to  prevent  such  acci- 
dents. One  evidence,  who  never  saw  the 
prisoner  till  now,  nor  the  deceased  till 
after  the  fact  supposed  to  have  happened, 
declares,  he  is  sure  the  prisoner  killed  the 
deceased.  And  why?  Because  he  is 
ready  to  take  his  bible  oath  on't.  This 
is,  to  be  sure,  a  very  logical  conviction. 

Court.  It  is  a  very  legal  one,  and 
that's  better. 

Pris.  Counsel.  I  submit  to  your  wis- 
doms. But  I  must  conclude  with  observ- 
ing, that  admitting  a  part  of  the  evidence 
to  be  true,  viz.  that  the  prisoner  did  meet 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  8. 


206 


the  deceased  on  the  highway,  and  held 
some  conference  with  him  ;  I  say,  that 
supposing  this,  for  argument  sake ;  I  do 
insist,  that  Mr.  Hare,  the  deceased,  was 
not  following  a  lawful,  honest  business,  at 
that  late  hour;  but  was  wickedly  and 
mischievously  bent  upon  a  felonious  de- 
sign, of  trespassing  on  farmer  Carter's 
ground,  and  stealing,  consuming,  and 
carrying  off,  his  corn  and  his  turnips.  I 
Airther  insist  that  the  defendant,  know- 
ing this  his  felonious  and  evil  machina- 
tion, and  being  resolved  to  defend  the 
property  of  his  good  friend  and  patron 
from  such  depredations,  did  endeavour  to 
divert  him  from  it.  Which  not  being  able 
to  effect  by  fair  means,  he  then  was  obliged 
to  try  his  utmost,  as  a  good  subject  and 
trusty  friend,  to  seize  and  apprehend  his 
person,  and  bring  him,  per  habeas  corpus, 
before  your  worships,  to  be  dealt  with  ac- 
cording to  law.  But  the  deceased  being 
too  nimble  for  him,  escaped  out  of  his 
clutches,  and  tumbling,  accidentally,  in  the 
dark,  into  his  worship's  horse-pond,  was 
there  drowned.  This  is,  I  do  not  doubt, 
a  true  history  of  the  whole  affair ;  and 
proves  that,  in  the  strictest  construction 
of  law,  it  can  only  be  a  case  of  per  infor- 
tunium — unless  your  worships  should  ra- 
ther incline  to  deem  it  afeio  de  se. 

Noodle.  A  fall  in  the  sea  !  No  such 
thing :  it  was  only  a  horse-pond,  that's 
clear  from  the  evidence. 

Pris.  Counsel.  Howsoever  your  wor- 
ships may  think  fit  to  judge  of  it,  I  do 
humbly  conceive,  upon  the  whole  matter, 
that  the  defendant  is  not  guilty  ;  and  I 
hope  your  worships,  in  your  wisdoms, 
will  concur  with  me  in  opinion,  and 
acquit  him. 

The  Counsel  for  the  Prosecution  replied 
in  a  long  speech.  He  contended  that  Mr. 
Hare,  the  deceased,  was  a  peaceable, 
quiet,  sober,  and  inoffensive  sort  of  a  per- 
son, beloved  by  king,  lords,  and  commons, 
and  never  was  known  to  entertain  any 
idea  of  robbery,  felony,  or  depredation, 
but  was  innocently  taking  the  air,  one  af- 
ternoon, for  the  benefit  of  his  health, when 
he  was  suddenly  accosted,  upon  his  ma- 
jesty's highway,  by  the  prisoner,  who  im- 
mediately, and  bloody-minded ly,  without 
saying  a  syllable,  made  at  him,  with  so 
much  fury  in  his  countenance,  that  the 
deceased  was  put  in  bodily  fear;  and 
being  a  lover  of  peace,  crossed  the  other 
side  of  the  way  :  the  prisoner  followed 
him  close,  and  pressed  him  so  hard,  that 
he  was  obliged  to  fly  over  hedge  and 


ditch  with  the  prisoner  at  his  heels.  It 
was  at  this  very  juncture  they  were  ob- 
served by  the  two  witnesses  first  examin- 
ed. The  learned  counsel  further  affirmed 
from  circumstances,  which  he  contended 
amounted  to  presumptive  evidence,  that, 
after  various  turnings  and  windings,  in 
his  endeavour  to  escape,  his  foot  slipped, 
and  the  prisoner  seized  him  and  inflicted 
divers  wounds ;  but  that  the  deceased 
finding  means  to  get  away,  took  to  the 
pond,  in  order  to  swim  across ;  when 
the  prisoner,  running  round  the  pond  in- 
cessantly, prevented  his  escape  :  so  that, 
faint  and  languishing  under  his  wounds 
and  loss  of  blood,  the  hapless  victim  there 
breathed  his  last,  in  manner  and  form  as 
the  indictment  sets  forth.  He  also 
alleged  that,  as  Mr.  Hare  lived  within 
his  worship's  territory,  where  there  are 
several  more  of  the  same  family,  he 
could  not,  therefore,  be  ;  going  to  farmer 
Carters;  for  that  would  have  been  ab- 
surd, when  he  might  have  got  corn  and 
turnips  enough  on  his  worship's  own 
ground.  Can  there,  said  the  learned  gen- 
tleman, be  a  stronger,  a  weightier,  a 
surer,  a — a — a — ? 

Court.  We  understand  you  It  is  as 
clear  as  crystal. 

[Their  worships  in  consultation.] 
Court.     Has    the    prisoner's    counsel 
any  thing  further  to  offer  in  his  behalf  ? 
Pris.  Counsel.  Call  farmer  Carter. 
Pray,  farmer  Carter,  inform  the  court 
what  you  know  of  the  prisoner's  life,  cha- 
racter, and  behaviour. 

Carter.  I  have  known  the  prisoner  these 
several  years.  He  has  lived  in  my  house 
great  part  of  the  time.  He  was  always 
sober — 

Court.  Never  the  honester  for  that. 
Well,  go  on. 

Carter.  Sober,  honest,  sincere,  trusty, 
and  careful.  He  was  one  of  the  best  and 
most  faithful  friends  I  ever  knew.  He 
has  many  a  time  deterred  thieves  from 
breaking  into  my  house  at  night,  and  mur- 
dering me  and  my  family.  He  never 
hated  nor  hurt  any  body  but  rogues  and 
night-walkers.  He  performed  a  million 
of  good  offices  for  me,  for  no  other  re- 
compense than  his  victuals  and  lodging  ; 
and  seemed  always  happy  and  contented 
with  what  I  could  afford  him,  however 
scanty  the  provision.  He  has  driven  away 
many  a  fox  that  came  to  steal  my  geese 
and  turkies ;  and,  for  taking  care  of  a 
flock  of  sheep,  there  is  not  his  equal  in 
the  county.  In  short,  whenever  he  dies 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  8. 


208 


I  shall  Jose  my  best  friend,  my  best  ser- 
vant, and  most  vigilant  protector.  1  am 
positive  that  he  is  as  innocent  as  a  babe 
of  the  crime  charged  upon  him;  for  he 
was  with  me  that  whole  evening,  and 
supped  and  slept  at  home.  He  was 
indeed  my  constant  companion,  and  we 
were  seldom  or  never  asunder.  If  your 
worships  please,  I'll  be  bail  for  him  from 
five  pounds  to  five  hundred. 

Court.  That  cannot  be  :  it  is  notaftazV- 
able  offence.  Have  you  any  thing  else  to 
say,  Mr.  Positive? 

Carter.  Say  ?  I  think  I've  said  enough, 
if  it  signified  any  thing. 

•Bottle.  Drag  him  away  out  of  hearing. 

Carter.  I  will  have  justice!  You,  all  of 
ye,  deserve  hanging  more  than  your  pri- 
soner, and  you  all  know  it  too. 

Court.  Away  with  him,  constable. — 
Scum  of  the  earth  !  Base-born  peasant  ! 
[  Carter  is  hauled  out  of  the  court,  after  a 
stout  resistance.] 

Court.  A  sturdy  beggar  I  We  must  find 
out  some  means  of  wiring  that  fellow ! 

The  Counsel  for  the  Prosecution  prayed 
sentence  of  death  upon  the  culprit  at  the 
bar. 

Court.  How  says  the  statute  ?  Are  we 
competent  for  this? 

Counsel  for  Pros.  The  statute  is,  I  con- 
fess, silent.  But  silence  gives  consent. 
Besides,  this  is  a  case  of  the  first  impres- 
sion, and  unprovided  for  by  law.  It  is 
your  duty,  therefore,  as  good  and  wise 
magistrates  of  the  Hundreds  of  Gotham, 
to  supply  this  defect  of  the  law,  and  to 
suppose  that  the  law,  where  it  says  no- 
thing, may  be  meant  to  say,  whatever  your 
worships  shall  be  pleased  to  make  it. 

Bottle.  It  is  now  incumbent  upon  me 
to  declare  the  opinion  of  this  high  and 
right  worshipful  court  here  assembled. 

Shall  the  reptile  of  a  dunghill,  a  paltry 
muckworm,  a  pitch-fork  fellow,  presume 
for  to  go  for  to  keep  a  dog  ?— and  not 
only  a  dog,  but  a  dog  that  murders  hares  ? 
Are  these  divine  creatures,  that  are  reli- 
giously consecrated  to  the  mouths  alone  of 
squires  and  nobles,  to  become  the  food  of 
garlic-eating  rogues  ?  It  is  a  food,  that 
nature  and  policy  forbid  to  be  contami- 
nated by  their  profane  teeth.  It  is  by  far 
too  dainty  for  their  robustious  constitu- 
tions. How  are  our  clayey  lands  to  be 
turned  up  and  harrowed,  and  our  harvests 
to  be  got  in,  if  our  labourers,  who  should 
strengthen  themselves  with  beef  and  ale, 
should  come  to  be  fed  with  hare,  partridge, 
and  pheasant  ?  Shall  we  sufl'er  our  giants 


to  be  nourished  with  mince-meat  and 
pap  ?  Shall  we  give  our  horses  chocolate 
and  muffins  ?  No,  gentlemen.  The  brains 
of  labourers,  tradesmen,  and  mechanics, 
(if  they  have  any,)  should  ever  be  sodden 
and  stupified  with  the  grosser  aliments  of 
bacon  and  dumpling.  What  is  it,  but  the 
spirit  of  poaching,  that  has  set  all  the  lower 
class,  the  canaille,  a  hunting  after  hare's- 
flesh  ?  You  see  the  effects  of  it  gentle- 
men ;  they  are  all  run  mad  with  polities, 
resist  their  rulers,  despise  their  magis- 
trates, and  abuse  us  in  every  corner  of  the 
kingdom.  If  you  had  begun  hanging  of 
poachers  ten  years  ago,  d'ye  think  you 
would  have  had  one  left  in  the  whole  king- 
dom by  this  time  ?  No,  I'll  answer  for  it ; 
and  your  hares  would  have  multiplied,  till 
they  had  been  as  plenty  as  blackberries, 
and  not  left  a  stalk  of  corn  upon  the 
ground.  This,  gentlemen,  is  the  very 
thing  we  ought  to  struggle  for ;  that  these 
insolent  clowns  may  come  to  find,  that  the 
only  use  they  are  good  for,  is  to  furnish 
provision  for  these  animals.  In  short, 
gentlemen,  although  it  is  not  totally  clear 
from  the  evidence,  that  the  prisoner  is 
guilty  ;  nevertheless,  hanged  he  must  and 
ought  to  be,  in  terrorem  to  all  other 
offenders. 

Therefore  let  the  culprit  stand  up,  and 
hearken  to  the  judgment  of  the  court. 

Constable.  Please  your  worship,  he's  up. 

Bottle.  Porter  !  Thou  hast  been  found 
guilty  of  a  most  daring,  horrible,  and 
atrocious  crime.  Thou  hast,  without  being 
qualified  as  the  law  directs,  and  without 
licence  or  deputation  from  the  lord  of  the 
manor,  been  guilty  of  shedding  inno- 
cent blood.  In  so  doing,  thou  hast  bro- 
ken the  peace  of  the  realm, -set  at  naught 
the  laws  and  statutes  of  thy  country,  and 
(what  is  more  than  all  these)  offended 
against  these  respectable  personages,  who 
have  been  sitting  in  judgment  upon  thee. 
For  all  this  enormity  of  guilt,  thy  life  doth 
justly  become  forfeit,  to  atone  for  such 
manifold  injuries  done  to  our  most  excel- 
lent constitution.  We  did  intend,  in 
Christian  charity,  to  have  given  some  mo- 
ments for  thy  due  repentance,  but,  as  the 
hour  is  late,  and  dinner  ready,  now  hear 
thy  doom. 

Thou  must  be  led  from  the  bar  to  the 
end  of  the  room,  where  thou  art  to  be 
hanged  by  the  neck  to  yonder  beam,  co- 
ram  nobis,  till  you  are  dead,  dead,  dead  / 
Hangman,  do  your  duty. 

Constable.  Please  your  worships,  all  is 
ready. 


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210 


Ponser.  Hoist  away,  then,  hoist  away. 
[Porter  is  tucked  up.] 

Mat.  Come,  it  seems  to  be  pretty  well 
over  with  him  now.  The  constable  has 
given  him  a  jerk,  and  done  his  business. 

Bottle.  He's  an  excellent  fellow. 

Ponser.  The  best  informer  in  the  whole 
county. 

Bottle.  And  must  be  well  encouraged, 

Ponser.  He  shall  never  want  a  licence, 
whilst  7  live. 

Noodle.  Come,  shall  we  go  to  dinner  ? 

Bottle.  Ay — he'll  never  course  hares 
again  in  this  world.  Gentlemen,  the  court 
is  adjourned* 

[Exeunt  omnes. 

EPITAPH, 

Composed  liy  Sam.  Snivel,  the  parish  clerk, 
proposed  to  be  put,  at  Farmer  Carter's 
expense,  on  the  unfortunate  malefactor's 
tombstone : 

Here  lie  the  remains 

of 
honest  PORTER  ; 

who, 

after  an  innocent  and  well-spent  life, 
was  dragged  hither,  and 

tried, 

for  a  crime  he  never  committed, 

upon  laws  to  which  he  was  unamenable, 

before  men  who  were  no  judges, 

found  guilty  without   evidence, 

and  hanged  without  mercy  : 
to  give  to  future  ages  an  example, 

that  the  spirit 
of  Turkish  despotism,  tyranny,  and 

oppression, 
after  glutting  itself  with  the  conquest  of 

liberty 

in  British  men, 
has  stooped  at  length  to  wreak  its  bloody 

vengeance 

on  British  dogs  ! 

Anno  Dom.  1771. 

Requiescat  in  pace  ! 

S.  S. 


This  humorous  "  Trial"  was  written 
in  consequence  of  "  a  real  event  which 
actually  took  place,  in1 771,  near  Chiches- 
ter."  The  persons  who  composed  the 
court  are  designated  by  fictitious  names  ; 
but  to  a  copy  of  the  pamphlet,  in  the 
possession  of  the  editor  of  the  Every-day 
Booh,  there  is  a  manuscript-key  to  their 
identity.  The  affair  is  long  past,  and 
they  are  therefore  added  in  italics. 


'SQUIRES. 
J.  Bottle— Butler. 
A.  Noodle — Aldridge. 
Mat  o'  the  Mill—  Challen. 
O.  Ponser — Bridger. 
It   appears   that  "  the   actors  in   tne 
tragedy  were  well  known  by  their  nick- 
names, given  in  Mr.  Long's  pamphlet." 

Edward  Long,  esq.  was  called  to  the 
bar  in  1757,  and  sailed  immediately  for 
Jamaica,  where  he,  at  first,  filled  the  post 
of  private  secretary  to  his  brother-in-law, 
sir  Henry  Moore,  bart ,  then  lieutenant- 
governor  of  the  island.  He  was  after- 
wards appointed  judge  of  the  vice-admi- 
ralty court,  and  left  the  island  in  1769. 
The  remainder  of  his  long  life  was  spent 
in  England,  and  devoted  to  literature. 
Mr.  Long's  first  production  was  the  face- 
tious report  of  the  case  of  "  Farmer  Car- 
ter's Dog  Porter."  He  wrote  ably  on 
negro  slavery,  the  sugar  trade,  and  the 
state  of  the  colonies  ;  but  his  most  dis- 
tinguished work  is  "  The  History  of  Ja- 
maica," in  three  quarto  volumes,  which 
contains  a  large  mass  of  valuable  infor- 
mation, much  just  reasoning,  and  many 
spirited  delineations  of  colonial  scenery 
and  manners,  and  is  almost  as  rare  as 
the  curious  and  amusing  tract  that  has 
contributed  to  the  preceding  pages.  He 
was  born  on  the  23d  of  August,  1734, 
at  Rosilian,  in  the  parish  of  St.  Blaize, 
Cornwall,  and  died,  on  the  13th  of 
March,  1813,  at  the  house  of  his  son-in- 
law,  Henry  Howard  Molyneux,  esq.  M.P. 
of  Arundel  Park,  Sussex,  aged  79.  Fur- 
ther particulars  of  his  life,  writings,  and 
family,  are  in  Mr.  Nichols's  "  Literary 
Anecdotes,"  and  the  "  Gentleman's  Ma- 
gazine," vol.  Ixxiii.,  from  whence  this 
brief  notice  is  extracted. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  37  •  27. 

jftfbntarp  9. 

St.  Apollonia. 

She  is^called,  by  Butler,  "  the  admirable 
Apollonia,  whom  old  age  and  the  state 
of  virginity  rendered  equally  venerable." 
He  relates,  that  in  a  persecution  of  the 
Christians,  stirred  up  by  "  a  certain  poet 
of  Alexandria,"  she  was  seized,  and  all 
her  teeth  were  beaten  out,  with  threats 
that  she  should  be  cast  into  the  fire,  "  if 


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212 


she  did  not  utter  certain  impious  words  ;" 
whereupon,  of  her  own  accord,  she  leaped 
into  the  flames.  From  this  legend,  St. 
Apollonia  is  become  the  patron  saint  of 
persons  afflicted  by  tooth-ach. 

In  the  "  Horae  B.  Virginis"  is  the  fol- 
lowing prayer : — 
((  f\  Saint  Apollonia,  by  thy  passion, 

V-T  obtain  for  us  the  remission  of 
all  the  sins,  which,  with  teeth  and  mouth, 
we  have  committed  through  gluttony  and 
speech ;  that  we  may  be  delivered  from 
pain  and  gnashing  of  teeth  here  and  here- 
after ;  and  loving  cleanness  of  heart,  by 
the  grace  of  our  lips  we  may  have  the 
king  of  angels  our  friend.  Amen." 

If  her.  teeth  and  jaws  in  Romish 
churches  be  good  evidence,  St.  Apollo- 
nia tmperab  i  nded  in  these  faculties  ;  the 


number  of  the  former  is  surprising  to  all 
who  disbelieve  that  relics  of  the  saints 
multiply  of  themselves.  A  church  at 
Bononia  possesses  her  lower  jaw,  "  which 
is  solemnly  worshipped  by  the  legate  ;" 
St.  Alban's  church  at  Cologne  also  has 
her  lower  jaw — each  equally  genuine  and 
of  equal  virtue. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

1555.  On  the  9th  of  February  in  this 
year,  Dr.  Rowland  Taylor,  vicar  of  Had- 
leigh  in  Suffolk,  one  of  the  first  towns  in 
England  that  entertained  the  Reforma- 
tion, suffered  death  there  for  resisting  the 
establishment  of  papal  worship  in  his 
church.  The  engraving  beneath  is  a  cor- 
rect representation  of  an  old  stone  com- 
memorative of  the  event,  as  it  appeared 
in  1825,  when  the  drawing  was  made 
from  it,  by  a  gentleman  who  obligingly 
transmits  it  for  the  present  purpose. 


AUTEMDHjGvTHAT 

'-TH*SPLASLBFT 

HI  .SRI-ODE 


at 


in 


Besides  the  rude  inscription  on  this  old 
stone,  as  it  is  represented  in  the  engrav- 
ing, there  is  another  on  a  neat  monument 
erected  by  the  side  of  the  original  in  1818. 


The  lines  are  as  follows  :  they  were  sup- 
plied by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Hay  Drummond, 
rector  of  Hadleigh. 


Mark  this  rude  Stone,  where  Taylor  dauntless  stood, 
Where  Zeal  infuriate  drank  the  Martyr's  blood  : 
Hadleigh  !  that  day,  how  many  a  tearful  eye 
Saw  the  lov'd  Pastor  dragg'd  a  Victim  by ; 
Still  scattering  gifts  and  blessings  as  he  past 
"To  the  blind  pair"  his  farewell  alms  were  cast ; 
His  clinging  flock  e'en  here  around  him  pray'd 
""As  thou  hast  aided  us,  be  God  thine  aid ;" 


213 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  9. 


214 


Nor  taunts,  nor  bribes  of  mitred  rank,  nor  stake, 
Nor  blows,  nor  flames,  his  heart  of  firmness  shake  ; 
Serene — his  folded  hands,  his  upward  eyes, 
Like  Holy  Stephen's,  seek  the  opening  skies  ; 
There,  fix'd  in  rapture,  his  prophetic  sight 
Views  Truth  dawn  clear,  on  England's  bigot  night ; 
Triumphant  Saint!  he  bow'd,  and  kiss'd  the  rod, 
And  soar'd  on  Seraph-wing  to  meet  his  God. 


Rowland  Taylor  was  "  a  doctor  in  both 
the  civil  and  canon  lawes,  and  a  right 
perfect  divine."  On  induction  to  his  be- 
nefice, he  resided  with  his  flock,  "  as  a 
good  shepherd  abiding  and  dwelling 
among  his  sheep,"  and  "  not  only  was 
his  word  a  preaching  unto  them,  but  all 
his  life  and  conversation  was  an  example 
of  unfained  Christian  life,  and  true  holi- 
nesse  :  he  was  void  of  all  pride,  humble 
and  meeke  as  any  child,  so  that  none 
were  so  poore,  but  they  might  boldly,  as 
unto  their  father,  resort  unto  him ;  neither 
was  his  lowlinesse  childish  or  fearfull ; 
but,  as  occasion,  time,  and  place  required, 
he  would  be  stout  in  rebuking  the  sinfull 
and  evil  doers,  so  that  none  was  so  rich, 
but  he  would  tell  him  plainly  his  fault, 
with  such  earnest  and  grave  rebukes  as 
became  a  good  curate  and  pastor."  He 
continued  in  well-doing  at  Hadleigh  dur- 
ing the  reign  of  king  Edward  VI.  till  the 
days  of  queen  Mary,  when  one  Foster,  a 
lawyer,  and  one  John  Clerk,  of  Hadley, 
"  hired  one  Averth,  parson  of  Aldam,  a 
right  popish  priest,  to  come  to  Hadley, 
and  there  to  give  the  onset  to  begin  again 
the  popish  masse :  to  this  purpose  they 
builded  up,  with  all  haste  possible,  the 
altar,  intending  to  bring  in  their  masse 
again  about  the  Palme  Munday."  The 
altar  was  thrown  down  in  the  night,  but 
on  the  following  day  it  was  replaced,  and 
the  Aldam  priest  entered  the  church, 
attended  by  Foster  and  Clerk,  and  guarded 
by  men  with  swords  and  bucklers.  Dr. 
Taylor,  who  was  in  his  study,  and  igno- 
rant of  this  irruption,  hearing  the  church 
bells  ring,  repaired  thither,  and  found  the 
priest,  surrounded  by  his  armed  force, 
ready  to  begin  mass,  against  whom  he 
was  unable  to  prevail,  and  was  himself 
thrust,  "  with  strong  hand,  out  of  the 
church/'  Two  days  afterwards,  he  was 
summoned  by  Gardiner,  bishop  of  Win- 
chester, to  come  before  him  at  London, 
and  answer  complaints.  His  friends 
counselled  him  to  fly,  but  Taylor  deter- 
mined to  meet  his  enemies,  "  and,  to  their 
beards,  resist  their  false  doings."  He  took 


his  departure  amidst  their  weeping, 
"  leaving  his  cure  with  a  godly  old  priest 
named  sir  Richard  Yeoman,  who  after- 
wards, for  God's  truth,  was  burnt  at 
Norwich."  On  his  appearance,  bishop 
Gardiner,  who  was  also  lord  chancellor, 
reviled  him,  "  calling  him  knave,  traitor, 
heretike,  with  many  other  villainous  re- 
proaches." Taylor  listened  patiently  :  at 
last  he  said,  "  My  lord,  I  am  neither 
traitor  nor  heretike,  but  a  true  subject, 
and  a  faithfull  Christian  man;  and  am 
come,  according  to  your  commandment, 
to  know  what  is  the  cause  that  your  lord- 
ship hath  sent  for  me  ?"  The  bishop 
charged  upon  him  that  he  was  married. 
"Yea,"  quoth  Taylor,  "  that  I  thank  God 
I  am,  and  have  had  nine  children,  and 
all  in  lawful  matrimony ;  and  blessed  be 
God  that  ordained  matrimony."  Then 
the  bishop  charged  him  with  having 
resisted  the  priest  of  Aldam  in  saying 
mass  at  Hadleigh.  Taylor  also  admitted 
this,  and,  after  stout  dispute,  was  com- 
mitted to  the  king's  bench,  where  he 
spent  his  time  in  praying,  reading  the 
scriptures,  writing,  preaching,  and  exhort- 
ing the  prisoners  to  repentance  and 
amendment  of  life.  There  he  found 
"  master  Bradford,"  whom  he  comforted 
by  his  courage.  While  imprisoned,  he 
was  cited  to  appear  "  in  the  Arches  at 
Bow  church,"  and  was  carried  thither, 
and  u  deprived  of  his  benefice  because  he 
was  married."  On  the  20th  of  January, 
1555,  Taylor  was  again  taken  before 
Gardiner  and  other  bishops.  He  gives  a 
long  account  of  his  disputations  with 
them  on  that  and  like  occasions.  They 
urged  him,  and  others  with  him,  to  re- 
cant :  the  prisoners  refused,  and  "  then 
4he  bishops  read  sentence  of  death  upon 
them." 

After  condemnation,  Dr.  Taylor  was 
"  bestowed  in  the  Clinke  till  it  was  toward 
night,  and  then  he  was  removed  to  the 
counter  by  the  Poultry."  On  the  4th  of 
February,  Bonner,  bishop  of  London, 
came  to  the  counter  to  degrade  him  ;  first 
wishing  him  to  return  to  the  church  of 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  9 


21ft 


Rome,  and  promising  him  to  sue  for  his 
pardon.  Whereunto  Taylor  answered, 
"  I  woulde  you  and  your  fellowes  would 
turne  to  Christ ;  as  for  me  I  will  not  turn 
toAntichrist."  "  Well,"  quoth  the  bishop, 
*  I  am  come  to  degrade  you,  wherefore 

§ut  on  these  vestures."  "  No,"  quoth 
octor  Taylor,  "  I  will  not."  « Wilt 
thou  not  V  said  the  bishop.  "  I  shall 
make  thee,  ere  I  goe."  Quoth  doctor 
Taylor,  "  You  shall  not,  by  the  grace  of 
God."  Then  Bonner  caused  another  to 
put  them  on  his  back ;  and  when  thus 
arrayed,  Taylor,  walking  up  and  down, 
said,  "  How  say  you,  my  lord,  am  I  not 
a  goodly  fool  ?  How  say  you,  my  mas- 
ters ;  if  I  were  in  Cheap,  should  I  not 
have  boys  enough  to  laugh  at  these  apish 
toys,  and  toying  trumpery  ?"  The  bishop 
proceeded,  with  certain  ceremonies,  to  his 
purpose,  till  at  the  last,  when,  according 
to  the  form,  he  should  have  struck  Taylor 
on  the  breast  with  his  crosier,  the  bishop's 
chaplain  said,  "  My  lord,  strike  him  not, 
for  he  will  sore  strike  again."  Taylor 
favoured  the  chaplain's  suspicion.  "  The 
cause,"  said  he,  "  is  Christ's ;  and  I 
were  no  good  Christian  if  I  would  not 
fight  in  my  master's  quarrel."  It  appears 
that  "  the  bishop  la  id  his  curse  upon  him, 
but  struck  him  not ;"  and  after  all  was 
over,  when  he  got  up  stairs,  "  he  told 
master  Bradford  (for  both  lay  in  one 
chamber)  that  he  had  made  the  bishop 
of  London  afraid  ;  for,  saith  he,  laugh- 
ingly, his  chaplain  gave  him  counsell  not 
to  strike  with  his  crosier-staff,  for  that  I 
would  strike  again;  and  by  my  troth, 
said  he,  rubbing  his  hands,  I  made  him 
believe  I  would  doe  so  indeed." 

Thus  was  Taylor  still  cheerful  from 
rectitude.  In  the. afternoon  his  wife,  his 
son,  and  John  Hull  his  servant,  were  per- 
mitted to  sup  with  him.  After  supper, 
walking  up  and  down,  he  impressively 
exhorted  them,  with  grave  advice,  to  good 
conduct  and  reliance  on  Providence. 
"  Then  they,  with  weeping  tears,  prayed 
together,  and  kissed  one  the  other ;  and 
he  gave  to  his  wife  a  book  of  the  church 
service,  set  out  by  king  Edward,  which 
in  the  time  of  his  imprisonment  he  daily 
used ;  and  unto  his  sonne  Thomas  he  gave 
a  latinp  booke,  containing  the  notable  say- 
ings of  the  old  martyrs,  gathered  out  of 
Ecclesiastica  Historia;  and  in  the  end  of 
that  booke  he  wrote  his  testament  and  last 
vale"  In  this  *'  vale,"  dated  the  5th  of 
February,  he  says  to  his  family,  "  I  goe 
before,  and  you  shall  follow  after,  to  our 


long  home.  I  goe  to  the  rest  of  my  chil- 
dren. I  have  bequeathed  you  to  the 
onely  Omnipotent."  In  the  same  paper 
he, tells  his  "  dear  friends  of  Hadley,  to 
remain  in  the  light  opened  so  plainely 
and  simply,  truly,  throughly,  and  gene- 
rally in  all  England,"  for  standing  in 
which  he  was  to  die  in  flames. 

In  the  morning  at  two  o'clock,  the 
sheriff  of  London  with  his  officers  brought 
him,  without  light,  from  the  counter  to 
Aldgate.  His  wife,  suspecting  that  he 
would  be  carried  away  thus  privately,  had 
watched,  from  the  time  they  had  parted, 
within  the  porch  of  St.  Botolph's  church, 
having  her  daughter  Mary  with  her,  and 
a  little  orphan  girl  named  Elizabeth, 
whom  the  honest  martyr  had  reared  from 
three  years  old  to  her-  then  age  of  thir- 
teen :  and  when  the  sheriff  and  his  com- 
pany came  nigh  to  where  they  stood,  the 
child  Elizabeth  cried,  "  O  my  dear  father  ! 
Mother,  mother,  here  is  my  father  led 
away."  The  darkness  being  so  great  that 
the  one  could  not  see  the  other,  his  wife 
cried,  "  Rowland,  Rowland,  where  art 
thou  ?"  Taylor  answered,  "  Dear  wife  ! 
I  am  here,"  and  he  stayed;  and  the  sheriffs 
men  would  have  forced  him,  but  the  sheriff 
said,  "  Stay  a  little,  my  masters,  I  pray 
you,  and  let  him  speak  to  his  wife."  Then 
ne  took  his  daughter  Mary  in  his  arms, 
and  he,  and  his  wife,  and  the  orphan  girl 
kneeled  and  prayed ;  and  the  sheriff,  and 
many  who  were  present,  wept ;  and  he 
arose  and  kissed  his  wife,  and  shook  her 
by  the  hand,  and  said.  "  Farewell,  my 
dear  wife,be  of  good  comfort,  for  I  am  quiet 
in  my  conscience ;  God  shall  stir  up  a  father 
for  my  children."  He  had  three  others,  be- 
sides his  daughter  Mary  and  the  young 
Elizabeth,  He  then  kissed  Mary,  and  then . 
Elizabeth,  and  he  bade  them,  also,  fare- 
well/and  enjoined  them  to  stand  steadfast 
in  their  faith.  His  weeping  wife  said, 
"  God  be  with  thee,  dear  Rowland,  I 
will,  with  God's  grace,  meet  thee  at  Had- 
leigh."  Then  he  was  led  on  to  the  Wool- 
sack inn,  at  Aldgate,  where  he  was  put  in 
a  chamber,  under  the  custody  of  four  yeo- 
men of  the  guard  and  the  sheriffs  men. 
Here  his  wife  again  desired  to  see  him, but 
was  restrained  by  the  sheriff,  who  other- 
wise treated  her  with  kindness,  and 
offered  her  his  own  house  to  abide  in ;  but 
she  preferred  to  go  to  her  mother's,  whi- 
ther two  officers  conducted  her,  charging 
her  mother  to  keep  her  within  till  their 
return. 

Meantime  so  soon  as  Taylor  euterel 


217 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— FEBRUARY  9. 


213 


the  chamber  he  prayed  ;  and  he  remained 
at  the  inn  until  the  sheriff  of  Essex  was 
ready  to  receive  him.  At  eleven  o'clock 
the  inn  gates  were  shut,  and  then  he 
was  put  on  horseback  within  the  gates. 
When  they  arrived  outside,  Taylor  saw  his 
son  Thomas  standing  against  the  rails,  in 
the  care  of  his  man  John  Hull ;  and  he 
said,  "  Come  hither,  my  son  Thomas." 
John  Hull  lifted  the  child  up,  and  set  him 
on  the  hot se before  his  father;  and  Taylor 
put  off  his  hat,  and  spoke  a  sentence  or 
two  to  the  people  in  behalf  of  matrimony, 
and  then  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  prayed 
for  his  son,  and  laid  his  hat  on  the  child's 
head,  and  blessed  him.  This  done  he  de- 
livered the  child  to  John  Hull,  whom  he 
took  by  the  hand,  and  he  said  to  him, 
"  Farewell,  John  Hull,  the  faithfullest 
servant  that  ever  man  had."  Having  so 
said,  he  rode  forth  with  the  sheriff  of 
Essex  and  the  yeomen  of  the  guard  to  go 
to  his  martyrdom  in  Suffolk. 

When  they  came  near  to  Brentwood, 
one  Arthur  Taysie,  who  had  been  ser- 
vant to  Taylor,  supposing  him  free, 
took  him  by  the  hand  and  said,  "  Master 
Doctor,  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again  at 
liberty ;"  but  the  sheriff  drove  him  back. 
At  Brentwood,  a  close  hood  was  put  over 
Taylor's  face,  with  holes  for  his  eyes  to 
look  out  at,  and  a  slit  for  his  mouth  to 
oreathe  through.  These  hoods  were  used 
at  that  place  to  be  put  on  the  martyrs  that 
they  should  not  be  known,  and  that  they 
should  not  speak  to  any  one,  on  the  road 
to  the  burning-places. 

Yet  as  they  went,  Taylor  was  so  cheer- 
ful, and  talked  to  the  sheriff  and  his 
guards  in  such  wise,  that  they  were 
amazed  at  his  constancy.  At  Chelmsford 
they 'met  the  sheriff  of  Suffolk,  who  was 
there  to  carry  him  into  his  county.  At 
that  time  he  supped  with  the  two  sheriffs. 
The  sheriff  of  Essex  laboured  during  sup- 
per to  persuade  him  to  return  to  queen 
Mary's  religion,  telling  him  that  all  pre- 
sent would  use  their  suit  to  the  queen  for 
his  pardon,  nor  doubted  they  could  obtain 
it.  The  sheriff  reminded  him,  that  he 
had  been  beloved  for  his  virtues,  and 
honoured  for  his  learning;  that,  in  the 
course  of  nature,  he  was  likely  to  live 
many  years ;  and  that  he  might  even  be 
higher  esteemed  than  ever ;  wherefore  he 
prayed  him  to  be  advised  :  "  This  counsel 
I  give  you,"  said  the  sheriff,  "  of  a  good 
heart  and  good  will  towards  you  ;"  and, 
thereupon  he  drank  to  him  ;  and  the  yeo- 
men of  the  guard  said,  "  In  like  manner, 


upon  that  condition,  master  Doctor,  we 
all  drink  to  you."  When  they  had  so 
done,  and  the  cup  D0.me  to  Taylor,  he 
staid  awhile,  as  studying  what  he  might 
say,  and  then  answered  thus  :  "  Mastei 
sheriff,  and  my  masters  all,  I  heartily 
thank  you  for  your  good  will.  I  have 
hearkened  to  your  words  and  marked 
well  your  counsels  ;  and  to  be  plain  with 
you,  I  do  perceive  that  I  have  been  de- 
ceived myself,  and  am  likely  to  deceive  a 
great  many  of  their  expectation."  At 
these  words  they  were  exceedingly  glad. 
"  Would  ye  know  my  meaning  plainly  ?" 
he  said.  "Yea,  gooi  master  Doctor,'7  an- 
swered the  sheriff,  «<  tell  it  us  plainly." 
"Then,"  said  Taylor, "  I  will  tell  you:"  and 
he  said,  that,  as  his  body  was  of  consider- 
able bulk,  and  as  he  thought,  if  he  had 
died  in  his  bed,  it  would  have  been 
buried  in  Hadleigh  church-yard,  so  he 
had  deceived  himself;  and, as  there  were 
a  great  many  worms  there  abiding,  which 
would  have  mealed  handsomely  upon 
him,  so  they,  as  well  as  himself,  were  de- 
ceived ;  "  for"  said  ne,  "  it  must  be  burnt 
to  ashes,  and  they  will  thereby  lose  their 
feeding."  The  sheriff'  and  his  company 
were  thereupon  astonished  at  him,  as 
being  a  man  without  fear  of  death,  and 
making  a  jest  of  the  flames.  During 
their  progress,  many  gentlemen  and  ma- 
gistrates were  admitted  to  see  him,  and 
entreated  him,  in  like  manner,  but  he  re- 
mained immovable. 

Thus  they  drew  near  to  Hadleigh  :  and 
when  they  rode  over  Hadleigh  bridge,  a 
poor  man  with  his  five  small  children 
awaited  their  coming.  When  they  saw 
Taylor,  they  all  fell  down  on  their  knees 
and  held  up  their  hands,  and  cried  aloud, 
"  God  help  and  succour  thee,  as  thou 
hast  many  a  time  succoured  me  and  my 
poor  children."  The  streets  of  Hadleigh 
were  crowded  on  each  side  by  men  and 
women,  of  the  town  and  country,  sorely 
weeping,  and  with  piteous  voices  loudly 
bewailing  the  loss  of  their  pastor,  praying 
that  he  might  be  strengthened  and  com- 
forted in  his  extremity,  and  exclaiming, 
"  What  shall  become  of  this  wicked 
world  !"  Taylor  said, "  I  have  preached  to 
you  God's  word  and  truth,  and  am  come 
to  seal  it  with  my  blood."  When  he  came 
to  the  almshouses,  he  put  some  money, 
that  had  been  bestowed  on  him  during 
his  imprisonment,  into  a  glove,  and  this 
he  is  said  to  have  given  to  the  poor  alms- 
men as  they  stood  at  their  doors,  to  see 
their  wonted  benefactor  pass  At  the 


219 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  9. 


220 


last  of  the  almshouses  he  inquired,  "  Is 
the  blind  man,  and  blind  woman,  that 
dwelt  here,  alive  ?"  He  was  answered, 
"  Yes ;  they  are  there,  within."  Then  he 
threw  glove  and  all  in  at  the  window, 
and  so  rode  forth  towards  the  field  of 
his  death. 

Coming  where  a  great  multitude  were 
assembled,  he  asked,  "  What  place  is 
this,  and  what  meaneth  it  that  so  much 
people  are  gathered  hither  ?"  It  was 
answered,  "  This  is  Aldham  common,  the 
place  where  you  must  suffer."  He  said, 
"  Thanked  be  God,  I  am  even  at  home." 
Then  he  alighted  from  his  horse,  and  with 
both  his  hands  rent  the  hood  from  his 
head.  His  hair  was  unseemly,  for  Bonner, 
when  he  degraded  him,  had  caused  it  to 
be  clipped  in  manner  of  a  fool's.  At  the 
sight  of  his  ancient  and  reverend  face,  and 
his  long  white  beard,  the  people  burst 
into  tears,  and  prayed  for  him  aloud.  He 
would  have  spoken  to  them,  but  when- 
ever he  attempted,  one  or  other  of  the 
yeomen  of  the  guard  thrust  a  tipstaff  into 
his  mouth. 

Then  he  desired  licence  to  speak,  of  the 
sheriff ;  but  the  sheriff  refused  him,  and 
bade  him  remember  his  promise  to  the 
council :  "  Well,"  quoth  Taylor,  "promise 
must  be  kept."  What  the  promise  was  is 
unknown.  Seating  himself  on  the  ground 
he  called  to  one  in  the  crowd,  "  Soyce,  I 
pray  thee  come  and  pull  off  my  boots,  and 
take  them  for  thy  labour ;  thou  hast  long 
looked  for  them,  now  take  them."  Then 
he  arose,  and  putting  off  his  under- 
clothes, them  also  he  bestowed.  This 
done,  he  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  "  Good 
people !  I  have  taught  you  nothing  but 
God's  holy  word,  and  those  lessons  that  I 
have  taken  out  of  God's  blessed  book,  the 
Holy  Bible ;  and  I  am  come  hither  this 
day  to  seal  it  with  my  blood."  OneHolmes, 
a  yeoman  of  the  guard,who  had  used  him 
cruelly  all  the  way,  then  struck  him  a 
violent  blow  on  the  head  "  with  a  waster," 
and  said,  "  Is  that  the  keeping  of  thy  pro- 
mise, thou  heretick  ?"  Whereupon  Taylor 
knelt  on  the  earth  and  prayed,  and  a 
poor,  but  faithful  woman,  stepped  from 
among  the  people  to  pray  with  him :  the 
guards  would  fain  have  thrust  her  away, 
they  threatened  to  tread  her  down  with 
their  horses,  but  she  was  undismayed,  and 
would  not  remove,  but  remained  and 
prayed  with  him.  Having  finished  his 
devotions  he  went  to  the  stake,  and  kissed 
it,  and  placed  himself  in  a  pitch-barrel 


which  had  been  set  for  him  to  stand  in ; 
and  he  stood  with  his  back  upright 
against  the  stake,  and  he  folded  his  hands 
together,  and  he  lifted  his  eyes  towards 
heavpn,  and  he  prayed  continually.  Then 
they  bound  him  with  chains,  and  the 
sheriff  called  one  Richard  Donningham, 
a  butcher,  and  commanded  him  to  set  up 
the  faggots,  but  he  said,  "  I  am  lame,  sir, 
and  not  able  to  lift  a  faggot.''  The  she- 
riff threatened  to  send  him  to  prison,  but 
the  man  refused  to  obey  his  command 
notwithstanding.  Then  the  sheriff  ap- 
pointed to  this  labour  one  Mullcine  of 
Carsey,  "  a  man  for  his  virtues  fit  to  be  a 
hangman."  Soyce,  a  very  drunkard, 
a  man  named  Warwick,  and  one  Ro- 
bert King,  "  a  deviser  of  interludes." 
These  four  set  up  the  faggots,  and  pre- 
pared for  making  ready  the  fire,  and 
Warwick  cast  a  faggot  at  the  martyr, 
which  lit  upon  his  head  and  wounded  his 
face,  so  that  the  blood  ran  down.  Taylor 
said,  "  O,  friend  !  I  have  harm  enough, 
what  .needed  that?"  Then,  while  he  re- 
peated the  psalm  Miserere,  in  English, 
sir  John  Shelton  struck  him  on  the  mouth  : 
"  You  knave,"  said  he,  "  speak  Latin ;  or 
I  will  make  thee."  At  last  they  set  the 
faggots  on  fire,  and  Taylor,  holding 
up  both  his  hands,  called  on  God,  crying, 
"  Merciful  Father  of  Heaven  !  for  Jesus 
Christ  our  saviour's  sake,  receive  my  soul 
into  thy  hands  !"  He  stood,  during  his 
burning,  without  crying  or  moving,  till 
Soyce  struck  him  on  the  head  with  a  hal- 
berd, and  the  brains  falling  out,  the 
corpse  fell  down  into  the  fire.* 

While  some  may  deem  this  narrative  of 
Rowland  Taylor's  conduct  too  circum- 
stantial, others  perhaps  may  not  so  deem. 
It  is  to  be  considered  as  exemplifying  the 
•manners  of  the  period  wherein  the  event 
occurred,  and  may  at  least  be  acceptable 
to  many.  It  will  assuredly  be  approved  by 
a  few  who  regard  inflexible  adherence  to 
principle,  at  the  hazard  of  death  itself,  as 
preferable  to  a  conscience-consuming  sub- 
serviency, which,  while  it  truckles  to  what 
the  mind  judges  to  be  false,  depraves  the 
heart,  and  saps  the  foundations  of  public 
virtue. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  05. 

*  Acts  and  Monuments. 


221 


THE  EVERYDAY  BOOK.— -FEBRUARY  10,  11,12,13.  222 


jfebruarp  10. 

Biographical  Notice. 

1818.  On  this  day  died  in  London, 
captain  Thomas  Morris,  aged  74,  a  man 
of  highly  cultivated  'mind,  who  was  born 
in  its  environs,  and  for  whom  when  young 
a  maternal  uncle,  of  high  military  rank, 
procured  an  ensign cy.  He  beat  for  re- 
cruits at  Bridgewater,  and  enlisted  the  af- 
fections of  a  Miss  Chubb  of  that  town, 
whom  he  married.  He  was  ordered 
with  his  regiment  to  America,  where  he 
fought  by  the  side  of  general  Montgo- 
mery. 

Captain  Morris  at  one  time  was  taken 
by  the  Indians,  and  condemned  to  the 
stake;  at  the  instant  the  women  and 
children  were  preparing  to  inflict  its  tor- 
tures, he  was  recognised  by  an  old 
sachem,  whose  life  he  had  formerly  saved, 
and  who  in  grateful  return  pleaded  so 
powerfully  in  his  behalf,  that  he  was  un- 
bound and  permitted  to  return  to  his 
friends,  who  had  given  him  up  for  lost. 
He  published  an  affecting  narrative  of  his 
captivity  and  sufferings ;  yet  he  was  so 
attached  to  the  Indian  mode  of  life,  that 
he  used  to  declare  they  were  the  only 
human  beings  worthy  of  the  name  of  MEN. 
On  his  return  from  America  to  England, 
he  quitted  the  army  and  gave  himself  to 
literary  studies,  and  the  conversation  of  a 
few  enlightened  friends.  In  the  midst  of 
"  the  feast  of  reason,  and  the  flow  of 
soul/'  he  often  sighed  for  the  grand 
imagery  of  nature,  the  dashing  cataracts 
of  Columbia,  the  wild  murmurs  of  rivers 
rolling  through  mountains,  woods,  and 
deserts.  Having  met  with  some  disap- 
pointments which  baffled  his  philosophy, 
he  sought  a  spot  for  retirement,  and  found 
it  in  a  nursery  garden,  at  Paddington. 
Here  in  a  small  cottage,  he  compared 
Pope's  translation  of  Homer  with  the 
original,  in  which  he  was  assisted  by 
Mr.  George  Dyer,  a  gentleman  well  quali- 
fied for  so  pleasing  a  task.  In  this  pur- 
suit he  passed  some  years,  which  he  de- 
clared were  the  happiest  of  his  life. 

With  partiality  for  the  dead  languages, 
he  was  sensible  to  the  vigour  and  copious- 
ness of  his  own  :  he  translated  Juvenal 
into  English,  and  enriched  it  with  many 
notes,  but  it  was  never  printed.  He  pub- 
lished a  little  poem,  entitled  "  Quashy,  or 
the  Coal-black  Maid,"  a  pathetic  West 
India  story.  He  lived  in  the  style  of  a  gen- 
tleman, and  left  a  handsome  sum  to  his 
children. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR, 
Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  92. 

jTebruarp  11. 

CHRONOLOGY 

1763.  William  Shenstone,  the  poet, 
died  at  his  celebrated  residence  the  Lea- 
sowes,  near  Hagley,  in  Worcestershire. 
He  was  born  at  Hales  Owen,  Shropshire, 
in  1714. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  00. 

jfebruarp  12. 

1826.  —  First  Sunday  in  Lent. 
The  communion  service  of  the  church 
of  England  for  the  Sundays  in  Lent,  was 
extracted  from  the  offices  appointed  for 
these  Sundays  by  the  missal  of  Sarum, 
excepting  the  collect  for  the  first  Sunday, 
which  was  composed  by  the  compilers  of 
the  liturgy,  and  also  excepting  the  gospel 
for  the  second  Sunday 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  •  37. 


13. 


Valentine's  Eve. 

1826.  Hilary  term  ends.  Cambridge  term 
begins. 

VALENTINE'S  EVE  AT  SWAFFHAM. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

At  Swaffham  in  Norfolk  it  is  customary 
to  send  valentines  on  this  evening.  Watch- 
ing for  a  convenient  opportunity,  the  door 
is  slyly  opened,  and  the  valentine,  attached 
to  an  apple  or  an  orange,  is  thrown  in  ;  a 
loud  rap  at  the  door  immediately  follows, 
and  the  offender,  taking  to  his  heels,  is  off 
instantly.  Those  in  the  house,  generally 
knowing  for  what  purpose  the  announc- 
ing rap  was  made,  commence  a  search 
for  the  juvenile  billet  doux  :  in  this  man- 
ner, numbers  are  disposed  of  by  each 
youth.  By  way  of  teasing  the  person 
who  attends  the  door,  a  white  oblong 
square,  the  size  of  a  letter,  is  usually 
chalked  on  the  step  of  the  door,  and, 
should  an  attempt  be  made  to  pick  it  up, 
great  amusement  is  thus  afforded  to  some 
of  the  urchins,  who  are  generally  watch- 
ing. K. 


923 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  14. 


224 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  ^8  •  10. 


14. 


OLD   CANDLEMAS    DAY. 

Valentine. 

Referring  to  vol.  i.  from  p.  215  to  230,  for 
information  concerning  the  origin  of  this 
festival  of  lovers,  and  the  manner  wherein 
it  is  celebrated,  a  communication  is  sub- 
joined concerning  a  custom  now  observed 
in  Norfolk. 

VALENTINE'S  DAY  AT  LYNN. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Independent  of  the  homage  paid  to  St. 
Valentine  on  this  day  at  Lynn,  (Norfolk,) 
it  is  in  other  respects  a  red-letter  day 
amongst  all  classes  of  its  inhabitants, 
being  the  commencement  of  its  great 
annual  mart.  This  mart  was  granted  by 
a  charter  of  Henry  VIII.,  in  the  twenty- 
seventh  year  of  his  reign,  «  to  begin  on 
the  day  next  after  the  feast  of  the  purifi- 
cation of  the  blessed  virgin  Mary,  and  to 
continue  six  days  next  following," 
(though  now  it  is  generally  prolonged  to 
a  fortnight.)  Since  the  alteration  of  the 
style,  in  1752,  it  has  been  proclaimed  on 
Valentine's  day.  About  noon,  the  mayor 
and  corporation,  preceded  by  a  band  of 
music,  and  attended  by  twelve  decrepit 
old  men,  called  from  their  dress  "Red 
eoats,"  walk  in  procession  to  proclaim 
the  mart,  concluding  by  opening  the  an- 
tiquated, and  almost  obsolete  court  of 
"  Piepowder."  Like  most  establishments 
of  this  nature,  it  is  no  longer  attended  for 
the  purpose  it  was  first  granted,  business 
having  yielded  to  pleasure  and  amuse- 
ment. Formerly  Lynn  mart  and  Stour- 
b-idge  (Stirbitch)  fair,*  were  the  only 
places  where  small  traders  in  this  and  the 
adjoining  counties,  supplied  themselves 
with  their  respective  goods.  No  transac- 
tions of  this  nature  now  take  place,  and 
the  only  remains  to  be  perceived,  are  the 
"  irart  prices,"  still  issued  by  the  grocers. 
Here  the  thrifty  housewives,  for  twenty 


miles  round,  laid  in  their  annual  store  of 
soap,  Btarch,  &c.,  and  the  booth  of 
"  Green"  from  Limehouse,  was  for  three 
generations  the  emporium  of  such  art: 
cles;  but  these  no  longer  attend.  A 
great  deal  of  money  is  however  spent,  a.« 
immense  numbers  of  persons  assemble 
from  all  parts.  Neither  is  their  any  lack 
of  incitements  to  unburthen  the  pockets: 
animals  of  every  description,  tame  and 
wild,  giants  and  dwarfs,  tumblers,  jug- 
•  glers,  peep-shows,  &c.,  all  unite  their  at- 
tractive powers,  in  sounds  more  discord- 
ant than  those  which  annoyed  the  ears  of 
Hogarth's  "  enraged  musician." 

The  year  1796  proved  particularly  un- 
fortunate to  some  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Marshland  who  visited  the  mart.  On  the 
evening  of  February  23,  eleven  persons, 
returning  from  the  day's  visit,  were 
drowned  by  the  upsetting  of  a  ferryboat; 
and  on  the  preceding  day  a  man  from 
Tilney,  going  to  see  the  wild  beasts,  and 
putting  his  hand  to  the  lion's  mouth,  had 
his  arm  greatly  lacerated,  and  narrowly 
escaped  being  torn  to  pieces. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  an 
old  building,  which,  before  the  reforma- 
tion, had  been  a  hall  belonging  to  the 
guild  of  St.  George,  after  being  applied  to 
various  uses,  was  fitted  up  as  a  theatre, 
(and  by  a  curious  coincidence,  where 
formerly  had  doubtless  been  exhibited,  as 
was  customary  at  the  guild  feasts,  religious 
mysteries  and  pageants  of  the  catholic 
age,  again  was  exhibited  the  mysteries  and 
pageants  of  the  protestant  age,)  during 
the  mart  and  a  few  weeks  afterwards ; 
bat  with  no  great  success,  as  appears  by 
an  anecdote  related  of  the  celebrated 
George  Alexander  Stevens.  Having  in 
his  youthful  days  performed  here  with  a 
strolling  company,  who  shared  amongst 
them  the  receipts  of  the  house,  after 
several  nights'  performance  to  nearly 
empty  benches,  while  performing  the  part 
of  Lorenzo,  in  Shakspeare's  "  Merchant  of 
Venice,"  he  thus  facetiously  parodied  the 
speech  of  Lorenzo  to  Jessica,  in  the  fifth 
act,  as  applicable  to  his  distressed  cir- 
cumstances : 


"  Oh  Jessica  !  in  such  a  night  as  this  we  came  to  town, 
And  since  that  night  we've  shar'd  but  half  a  crown  ; 
Let  you  and  I  then  bid  these  folks  good  night, 
For  if  we  longer  stay,  they'll  starve  us  quite." 


'  VUitat-laW   t0°5   place   between    !**»  and    Cambridge    respecting    the    toll    ol 
r;  the  precise  ground  of  the  dispute  and  the  termination  are  not  stated 


225 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK—FEBRUARY  14. 


226 


This  neglect  of  the  drama  is  not,  how- 
ever, to  be  attributed  to  the  visitors  or  the 
inhabitants  at  the  present  day,  a  very 
elegant  and  commodious  theatre  having 
been  erected  in  1814,  at  a  considerable 
expense,  in  another  part  of  the  town. 
But  even  here,  a  fatality  attends  our  ca- 
tholic ancestors,  indicative  of  the  instabi- 
dty  of  all  sublunary  affairs.  The  theatre 
has  been  erected  on  the  site  of  the  clois- 
ters and  cemetry  of  the  grey  friars'  monas- 
tery, the  tall,  slender  tower  of  which  is" 
still  standing  near,  and  is  the  only  one  re- 
maining out  of  ten  monasteries  found  in 


Lynn  at  the  dissolution ;  where,  but  for 
the  lustful  rapacity  of  that  tyrannical 
"  defender  of  the  faith/'  Henry  VIII.,  this 
sacred  asylum  of  our  departed  ancestors 
would  not  have  been  profaned,  nor  their 
mouldering  particles  disturbed,  by  a 
building  as  opposite  to  the  one  originally 
erected,  as  darkness  is  to  light.  Thus 
time,  instead  of  consecrating,  so  entirely 
obliterates  our  veneration  for  the  things 
of  yesterday,  that  the  reflecting  mind  can- 
not forbear  to  exclaim  with  the  moralist  of 
old. — *'  Sic  transit  gloria  mandi." 

K. 


,  of 

Aged  74,  A..  D.  1824. 


"  Here's  David's  likeness  for  his  book, 
All  those  who  buy  may  at  it  look, 
As  he  is  in  his  present  state, 
Now  printed  from  a  copper-plate." 


These  lines  arc  beneath  the  portrait 
from  whence  the  above  engraving  is  taken. 
It  is  a  very  faithful  likeness  of  David 
Love,  only  a  little  too  erect : — not  quite 
enough  of  the  stoop  of  the  old  man  of 
76  in  it, — but  it  is  a  face  and  a  figure 
which  will  be  recognised  by  thousands  in 
Nottingham  andNottinghamshire.  The 
VOL.  II.— 60. 


race  of  the  old  minstrels  has  been 
extinct ; — that  of  the  ballad-singers  is  fast 
following  it — yet  David  is  both  one  and 
the  other.  He  is  a  bard  and  a  caroller,— 
a  wight  who  has  wandered  over  as  many 
hills  and  dales  as  any  of  the  minstrels  and 
troubadours  of  old; — a  man  who  has 
sung,  when  he  had  cause  enough  for  cry- 


s 


THE  EVERY- DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  14. 


228 


ing— wh  5  nas  seen  many  ups  and  downs, 
and  has  seldom  failed  to  put  his  trials  and 
hardships  into  rhyme.  He  is  the  poet 
of  poverty  and  patience — teaching  expe- 
rience. He  has  seen  the 

"  huts  where  poor  men  lie" 

all  his  life ;  yet  he  has  never  ceased  to 
chant  as  he  proceeded  on  his  painful 
pilgrimage,  like  the  "  nightingale  with  a 
thorn  in  her  breast "  It  is  true,  he  does 
not  carry  his  harp  to  accompany  his 
strains,  but  he  carries  his  life,  "  The  Life, 
Adventures,  and  Experience  of  David 
Love,  written  by  Himself.  Fifth  edition :" 
and  well  doth  it  deserve  both  its  title  and 
sale.  A  curious,  eventful  story  of  a  poor 
man's  it  is.  First  he  is  a  poor  parent- 
deserted  lad  ;  then  he  has  wormed  himself 
into  good  service,  and  afterwards  into  a 
coal-pit,  where  he  breaks  his  bones  and 
almost  crushes  out  life ;  then  he  is  a  tra- 
veller, a  shopkeeper,  a  soldier  fighting 
against  the  Highland  rebels;  he  falls  in 
love,gets  into  wedlock  and  a  workhouse,  is 
never  in  despair,  and  never  out  of  trouble; 
with  a  heart  so  buoyant,  that,  like  a  cork 
on  a  boisterous  flood,  however  he  might 
be  plunged  into  the  depths,  he  is  sure  to 
rise  again  to  the  surface,  and  in  all  places 
and  cases  still  pours  out  his  rhymes — pic- 
tures of  scenes  around  him,  strange  cabins 
and  strange  groups,  love  verses,  acrostics, 
hymns,  &c. 

"  I  have  composed  many  rhymes, 
On  various  subjects,  and  the  times, 
And  call'd  the  trials  of  prisoners'  crimes 

The  cash  to  bring ; 
When  old  I  grew,  composed  hymns, 

And  them  did  sing." 

So  David  sped,  and  so  he  speeds  now  in 
his  77th  year,  only  that  his  travels  have 
left  him  finally  fixed  at  Nottingham.  His 
wars  and  his  loves  have  vanished;  his  cir- 
cle of  action  has  annually  become  more 
and  more  contracted  ;  till,  at  length,  the 
town  includes  the  whole  field  of  his  per- 
ambulations, and  even  that  is  almost  more 
than  his  tottering  frame  can  traverse.  Yet 
there  he  is !  and  the  stranger  who  visits 
Nottingham  will  be  almost  sure  to  see 
him,  as  represented  in  the  print,  .crossing 
the  market-place,  with  a  parcel  of  loose 
papers  in  his  hand  ; — a  rhyming  account 
of  the  last  Goose  Fair,  a  flood,  an  ex- 
ecution, or  one  of  David's  own  mar- 
riages,— for  be  it  known  to  thee,  gentle 
reader,  that  David  Love  has  been  a  true 
son  of  the  family  of  the  Loves.  He  has 
not  sung  his  amatory  lays  for  naught ;  he 


has  captivated  the  hearts  cf  no  less  than 
three  damsels,  and  he  has  various  and  me- 
morable experience  in  wives. 

David,  like  many  of  our  modern  ge- 
niuses, is  a  Scotchman.  He  tells  us  that 
he  was  born  near  Edinbuigh,  but  the  pre- 
cise place  he  affects  not  to  know.  The 
fact  is,  he  is  not  very  strong  in  his  faith 
that,  as  he  has  tasted  the  sweets  of  a 
parish,  he  cannot  be  removed,  and  thinks 
it  best  to  keep  his  birth-place  secret  :  but 
the  spot  is  Torriburn,  on  the  Forth,  the 
Scotch  Highgate.  David  "  has  been  to 
mair  toons  na  Torriburn/'  as  the  Scotch 
say,  when  they  intimate  that  they  are  not 
to  be  gulled. 

After  sustaining  many  characters  in  the 
drama  of  life  whilst  yet  very  young,  a 
schoolmaster   among  the  rest,    he  fairly 
flung  himself  and  his  genius    upon  the 
world,  and  rambled  from  place  to  place 
in  Scotland,  calling  around  him  all  the 
young  ears  and  love-darting  eyes  by  his 
original  ballads.     It  was  a  dangerous  life, 
and  David  did  not  escape  scatheless. 
"  At  length  so  very  bold  I  grew, 
My  songs  exposed  to  public  view, 
And  crowds  of  people  round  me  drew, 

/  was  so  funny  ; 
From  side  to  side  I  nimbly  flew 

To  catch  the  money." 

And  he  caught  not  only  money,  but  matri- 
mony,— and  such  a  wife !  alas  !  for  poor 
David ! 

"  As  she  always  will  rule  the  roast, 
I'd  better  be  tied  to  a  post, 

And  whipped  to  death, 
Than  with  her  tongue  to  be  so  tossed, 

And  bear  her  wrath. 
She  called  me  both  rogue  and  fool, 
And  over  me  she  strove  to  rule ; 
I  sat  on  the  repenting  stooW 

There  tears  I  shed  ; 
Sad  my  complaint,  I  said,  O  dool !  % 

That  e'er  I  wed." 

The  next  step  evidently  enough  was 
enlisting,  which  he  did  into  the  duke  of 
Buccleugh's  regiment ;  where,  he  says,  he 
distinguished  himself  by  writing  a  song 
in  compliment  of  the  regiment  and  its 
noble  commander,  concluding  with, 

"  Now,  at  the  last.,  what  do  you  think 

Of  the  author,  David  Love  ?" 
And  whenever  the  duke  and  the  officers 
saw  him,  they  were  sure  to  point,  and 
say,  "  What  do  you  think  of  the  author, 
jjarad  Love  ?"  These  seem  to  have  been 
David's  golden  days.  Nut  only — 

"  One  hand  the  pen,  and  one  the  sword  did 
wield," 


229 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  14. 


230 


but  he  was  also  an  actor  of  plays  for  the 
amusement  of  the  officers.  However,  his 
discharge  came,  and  adventures  crowded 
thickly  upon  him.  He  traversed  England 
in  all  directions,  married  a  second  and  a 
third  time,  figured  away  in  London  and 
Edinburgh,  and  finally  in  Nottingham, 
with  ballads  and  rhymes  of  his  own  com- 
posing ;  saw  the  inside  of  a  prison,  was 
all  but  hanged  for  his  suspicious  and  no- 
madic poverty,  and  after  all,  by  his  own 
showing,  is  now  to  be  classed  with  the 
most  favoured  of  mortals : — 

"  I  am  now  76  years  of  age,  and  I  both 
see  and  hear  as  well  as  I  did  thirty  years 
ago.  My  wife  is  aged  about  fifty,  and 
has  been  the  space  of  a  year  in  tolerable 
health.  She  works  hard  at  her  silk- 
wheel,  to  assist  me ;  is  an  excellent  house- 
wife ;  gossips  none :  cleanly  in  cooking, 
famous  at  washing,  good  at  sewing,  mark- 
ing, and  mending  her  own  and  children's 
clothes.  For  making  markets  none  can 
equal  her.  Consults  me  in  every  thing, 
to  find  if  I  think  it  right,  before  she  pro- 
ceeds to  buy  provisions,  or  clothes;  strives 
to  please  me  in  every  thing;  and  always 
studies  my  welfare,  rejoicing  when  I  am 
in  health,  grieved  when  I  am  pained  or 
uneasy.  She  is  my  tender  nurse  to  nourish 
me,  my  skilful  doctress  to  administer  re- 
lief when  I  am  in  sickness  or  in  pain  ;  in 
short,  a  better  wife  a  poor  man  never 
had." 

Truly,  David,  I  think  so  too!  A  happy 
man  art  thou  to  be  possessed  of  such  an 
incomparable  helpmate;  and  still  hap- 
pier that,  unlike  many  a  prouder  bard, 
thou  art  sensible  of  thy  blessings. 

To  show  that  although  our  minstrel 
often  invokes  the  muse  to  paltry  subjects 
for  paltry  gains,  yet  he  can  sometimes 
soar  into  a  higher  region,  I  give  the  fol- 
lowing : — 

THE  CHILD'S  DREAM. 
The  tubstance  thereof  being  founded  on  fact 

I'll  tell  you  who  1  saw  last  night, 

As  I  lay  sleeping  on  my  bed  ; 
A  shining  creature  all  in  light, 

To  me  she  seemed  a  heavenly  maid. 

I  meet  her  tripping  o'er  the  dew, 
Fine  as  a  queen  of  May,  mamma ; 

She  saw,  she  smiled,  she  to  me  flew, 
And  bade  me  come  away,  mamma. 

I  looked,  I  loved,  I  blushed  awhile, 
Oh  !  how  could  I  say  no,  mamma  ? 

She  spoke  so  sweet,  so  sweet  did  smile, 
I  was  obliged  to  go,  mamma. 


For  love  my  tender  heart  beguiled, 

I  felt  unusual  flames,  mamma  ; 
My  inward  fancy  turned  so  wild, 

So  very  strange  my  dream,  mamma. 

Indeed  I  was,  I  know  not  how, 
Oh  had  you  only  been  with  me ; 

Such  wonders  opened  to  my  view, 
As  few  but  holy  angels  see. 

Methought  we  wandered  in  a  grove, 
All  green  with  pleasant  fields,  mamma  ; 

In  joyful  measures  on  we  move, 
As  music  rapture  yields,  mamma. 

She  took  me  in  her  snow-white  hand, 
Then  led  me  through  the  air  mamma. 

Far  higher  above  sea  and  land, 
Than  ever  eagles  were,  mamma. 

The  sea  and  land,  with  all  their  store, 
Of  rivers,  woods,  and  lofty  hills, 

Indeed  they  did  appear  no  more 
Than  little  streams  or  purling  rills. 

I  sought  my  dear  papa's  estate, 
But  found  it  not  at  all,  mamma  ; 

The  world  in  whole  seemed  not  so  great 
As  half  a  cannon-ball,  mamma. 

We  saw  the  sun  but  like  a  star, 
The  moon  was  like  a  mustard  seed  ; 

Like  Elias  in,  his  fiery  car, 
All  glorious  winged  with  light'ning  speed. 

Swift  as  our  thoughts,  oh  joyful  day . 

We  glanced   through    all   the  boundless 

spheres ; 
Their  music  sounding  all  the  way, 

Heaven  sweetly  rushing  in  our  ears, 

Now  opens,  and  all  we  saw  before 

Were  lost  entirely  to  our  view ; 
The  former  things  are  now  no  more, 

To  us  all  things  appeared  new. 

No  death  is  there,  nor  sorrow  there, 
E'er  to  disturb  the  heavenly  bliss, 

For  death,  sin,  hell,  and  sorrow  are, 
Entirely  lost  in  the  abyss. 

With  wintry  storms  the  ground  ne'er  pines 

Clothed  in  eternal  bloom,  mamma  ; 
For  there  the  sun  of  glory  shines, 

And  all  the  just  with  him,  mamma. 
I  saw  my  sister  Anna  there, 

A  virgin  in  her  youthful  prime  ; 
More  than  on  earth  her  features  fair, 

And  like  the  holy  angels'  fine. 

Her  robe  was  all  a  flowing  stream 

Of  silver  dipt  in  light,  mamma, 
But  ah  !  it  'woke  me  from  my  dream, 

It  shone  so  strong  and  bright,  mamma. 

With  this  specimen  of  David's  poetica. 
faculties,  I  leave  him  to  the  kind  con- 
sideration of  the  well  disposed. 

January,  1826.  M.  T. 


23 1 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—FEBRUARY  15,  16,  17. 


232 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  37  •  42. 


15. 

1826.  Ember  Week. 
Ember  weeks  are  those  in  which  the 
Ember  days  fall.  A  variety  of  explana- 
tions have  been  given  of  the  word  Em- 
ber, but  Nelson  prefers  Dr.  Marechal's, 
"  who  derives  it  from  the  Saxon  word 
importing,  a  circuit  or  course;  so  that 
these  fasts  being  not  occasional,  but  re- 
turning every  year  in  certain  courses,  may 
properly  be  said  to  be  Ember  days,  be- 
cause fasts  in  course."  The  Ember  days 
are  the  Wednesday,  Friday,  and  Saturday 
after  the  first  Sunday  in  Lent,  and  after 
the  13th  of  December.  It  is  enjoined  by 
the  xxxi.  canon  of  the  church,  "  that  dea- 
cons and  ministers  be  ordained,  or  made, 
but  only  on  the  Sundays  immediately  fol- 
lowing these  Ember  feasts."* 


1731.  Their  majesties  king  George  II. 
and  the  queen,  being  desirous  of  seeing 
"the  noble  art  of  printing,"  a  printing 
press  and  cases  were  put  up  at  St.  James's 
palace  on  the  15th  of  February,  and  the 
•duke  (of  York)  wrought  at  one  of  the 
cases,  to  compose  for  the  press  a  little 
book  of  his  own  writing,  called  "The 
Laws  of  Dodge-Hare."  The  two  young- 
est princes,  likewise,  composed  their 
names,  &c.,  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  S. 
Palmer,  a  printer,  and  author  of  the 
"History  of  Printing,"  which  preceded 
Mr.  Ames's  more  able  work.f 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  22. 

jfWbruarp  16. 

CHRONOLOGY* 

A  question  was  carried  in  the  house  of 
commons  for  building  a  bridge  over  the 
Thames,  from  Palace-yard  to  the  Surrey 
side.  During  the  debate,  that  river  over- 
flowed its  banks  by  reason  of  a  strong 
spring  tide ;  the  water  was  higher  than 
ever  known  before,  and  rose  above  two 
feet  in  Westminster -hall,  where  the 
courts  being  sitting,  the  judges,  &c.  were 
obliged  to  be  carried  out.  The  water 

*  Audley's  Companion  to  the  Almanac, 
t  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


came  into  all  the  cellars  and  ground 
rooms  near  the  river  on  both  sides,  and 
flowed  through  the  streets  of  Wapping 
and  Southwark,  as  its  proper  channel;  a 
general  inundation  covered  all  the  marshes 
and  lowlands  in  Kent,  Essex,  Suffolk, 
Norfolk,  and  Lincolnshire,  and  some 
thousands  of  cattle  were  destroyed,  with 
several  of  their  owners  in  endeavouring 
to  save  them.  The  tide  being  brought  in 
by  a  strong  wind  at  N.  W.  was  the  highest 
in  Lincolnshire  of  any  for  135  years  past. 
Seventeen  breaches  were  made,  about 
sunrise,  in  the  banks  of  the  river  between 
S  aiding  and  Wisbech,  with  several  be- 
tween Wisbech  and  Lynn,  and  irreparable 
damage  done ;  some  graziers  having  lost 
all  their  cattle.  At  Clay,  in  Norfolk, 
waters  came  over  the  great  beach,  almost 
demolished  the  town,  and  left  nine  feet  of 
water  in  the  marshes.  At  Gold  Ongar, 
Essex,  Mr.  Cooper,  and  four  of  his  ser- 
vants, were  drowned  in  endeavouring  to 
save  some  sheep,  the  sea  wall  giving  way 
of  a  sudden.  The  little  isles  of  Candy 
and  Foulness,  on  the  coast  of  Essex,  were 
quite  under  water ;  not  a  hoof  was  saved 
thereon,  and  the  inhabitants  were  taken 
from  the  upper  part  of  their  houses  into 
boats.  The  particular  damages  may  be 
better  conceived  than  related.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  •  90. 

dfe&ruarg  17. 

Sittings  after  Term. 

On  the  day  after  the  expiration  of  every 
term,  the  courts  of  law  continue  to  sit  at 
Westminster,  and  try  causes ;  and  some 
judges  come  into  London  at  the.  same 
time,  for  the  same  purpose.  These  sit- 
tings are  called  the  "  sittings  after  term," 
and  during  these  periods,  suits,  arising 
out  of  clashing  claims  of  important  in- 
terests, are  usually  decided  by  the  verdicts 
of  special  juries,  and  other  litigations  are 
disposed  of. 

The  origin  and  progress  of  every  pos- 
sible action,  in  a  court  of  law,  are  suc- 
cinctly portrayed  by  "  the  Tree  of  Com- 
mon Law" — an  engraving  in  vol.  i.  p. 
234.  It  stands  there  for  "  ornament  and 
use ;" — there  are  plenty  of  books  to  explain 
technical  terms,  and  show  the  practice 
of  the  courts  ;  any  uninformed  person, 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


233 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— FEBRUARY  17. 


234 


therefore,  may  easily  obtain  further  infor- 
mation as  to  the  modes ;  and  any  respect- 
able attorney  will  advise  an  inquirer,  who 
states  all  the  particulars  of  his  case,  con- 
cerning the  costs  of  attempting  to  sue  or 
defend,  and  the  chances  of  success.  After 
proceeding  so  far,  it  will  be  requisite  to 
pause,  and  then,  as  paramount  to  the 
legal  advice,  common  sense  should  weigh 
consequences  well,  before  giving  "  instruc- 
tions to  sue,"  or  "  defend,"  in 

that  wide  and  pathless  maze 

Where  law  and  custom,  truth  and  fiction, 

Craft,  justice,  strife,  and  contradiction, 

With  every  blessing  of  confusion, 

Quirk,  error,  quibble,  and  delusion, 

Are  all,  if  rightly  understood, 

Like  jarring  ministers  of  state, 

'Mid  anger,  jealousy,  and  hate, 

In  friendly  coalition  joined, 

To  harmonize  and  bless  mankind. 

To  some  "  whimsical  miscellanies," 
subjoined  at  the  place  aforesaid,  can  be 
added  or  annexed,  more  or  many  others, 
of  the  same  or  the  like  kind.  The  reali- 
ties of  law  may  be  relieved  by  the  pleasures 
of  imagination,  and  the  heaviness  of  the 
"  present  sittings"  be  enlivened  by  a 
reported  case,  in  the  words  of  the  re- 
porter, (Stevens'*  Lect.)  premising,  how- 
ever, that  he  first  publicly  stated,  with  his 
head  in  his  wig,  and  with  a  nosegay  in 
his  hand, 

"  Law  is — law, — law  is  law,  and  as,  in 
such  and  so  forth,  and  hereby,  and  afore- 
said, provided  always,  nevertheless,  not- 
withstanding. Law  is  like  a  country 
dance,  people  are  led  up  and  down  in  it 
till  they  are  tired.  Law  is  like  a  book  of 
surgery,  there  are  a  great  many  terrible 
cases  in  it.  It  is  also  like  physic,  they 
that  take  least  of  it  are  best  off.  Law  is 
like  a  homely  gentlewoman,  very  well  to 
follow.  Law  is  also  like  a  scolding  wife, 
very  bad  when  it  follows  us.  Law  is  like 
a  new  fashion,  people  are  bewitched  to 
get  into  it ;  it  is  also  like  bad  weather, 
most  people  are  glad  when  they  get  out 
of  it."  The  same  learned  authority  ob- 
serves, that  the  case  before  referred  to, 
and  hereafter  immediately  stated,  came 
before  him,  that  is  to  say, 

Bullum  v.  Boatum. 

Boaium  v.  Bullum. 

There  were  two  farmers,  farmer  A  and 
farmer  B.  Farmer  A  was  seized  or  pos- 
sessed of  a  bull ;  farmer  B  was  seized  or 
possessed  of  a  ferry-boat.  Now  the  owner 
of  the  ferry-boat,  having  made  his  boat 
fest  to  a  post  on  shore,  with  a  piece  of 


hay,  twisted  rope  fashion,  or  as  we  say, 
vulgo  vocato,  a  hay-band.  After  he  had 
made  his  boat  fast  to  a  post  on  shore,  as 
it  was  very  natural  for  a  hungry  man  to 
do,  he  went  up  toivn  to  dinner ;  farmer 
A's  bull,  as  it  was  very  natural  for  a 
hungry  bull  to  do,  came  down  town  to 
look  for  a  dinner ;  and  the  bull  observing 
discovering,  seeing,  and  spying  out,  some 
turnips  in  the  bottom  of  the  ferry-boat 
the  bull  scrambled  into  the  ferry-boat  — 
he  eat  up  the  turnips,  and  to  make  an 
end  of  his  meal,  he  fell  to  work  upon  the 
hay-band.  The  boat  being  eaten  from  its 
moorings,  floated  down  the  river,  with 
the  bull  in  it :  it  struck  against  a  rock — 
beat  a  hole  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat, 
and  tossed  the  bull  overboard.  There- 
upon the  owner  of  the  bull  brought  his 
action  against  the  boat,  for  running  away 
with  the  bull,  and  the  owner  of  the  boat 
brought  his  action  against  the  bull  for 
running  away  with  the  boat. 

At  trial  of  these  causes,  Bullum  », 
Boatum,  Boatum  v.  Bullum,  the  counsel 
for  the  bull  began  with  saying, 

"  My  lordy  and  you,  gentlemen  of  the 
jury, 

"  We  are  counsel  in  this  cause  for  the 
bull.  We  are  indicted  for  running  away 
with  the  boat.  Now,  my  lord,  we  have 
heard  of  running  horses,  but  never  of 
running  bulls  before.  Now,  my  lord,  the 
bull  could  no  more  run  away  with  the 
boat  than  a  man  in  a  coach  may  be  said 
to  run  away  with  the  horses ;  therefore, 
my  lord,  how  can  we  punish  what  is  not 
punishable?  How  can  we  eat  what  is 
not  eatable  ?  Or  how  can  we  drink  what 
is  not  drinkable  ?  Or,  as  the  law  says, 
how  can  we  think  on  what  is  not  think- 
able ?  Therefore,  my  lord,  as  we  are 
counsel  in  this  cause  for  the  bull,  if  the 
jury  should  bring  the  bull  in  guilty,  the 
jury  would  be  guilty  of  a  bull." 

The  counsel  for  the  boat  affirmed,  that 
the  bull  should  be  nonsuited,  because 
the  declaration  did  not  specify  of  what 
colour  he  was ;  for  thus  wisely,  and  thus 
learnedly  spoke  the  counsel :  "  My  lord, 
if  the  bull  was  of  no  colour,  he  must  be  of 
some  colour ;  and  if  he  was  not  of  any 
colour,  of  what  colour  could  the  bull  be -?" 
I  overruled  this  objection  myself  (says  the 
reporter)  by  observing  the  bull  w/as.  a 
white  bull,  and  that  white  is  no  colour ; 
besides,  as  I  told  my  brethren,  they,  should 
not  trouble  their  heads  to  talk  of  colour  in., 
the  law,  for  the  law  can  colour  any  thing. 
The  causes  >vent  to  reference,  and  by  the 


235 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  18. 


236 


award,  both  bull  and  boat  were  acquitted, 
it  being  proved  that  the  tide  of  the  river 
carried  them  both  away.  According  to 
the  legal  maxim,  there  oannot  be  a  wrong 
without  a  remedy,  I  therefore  advised  a 
fresh  case  to  be  laid  before  me,  and  was  oi 
opinion,  that  as  the  tide  of  the  river  carried 
t)oth  bull  and  boat  away,  both  bull  and 
ooat  had  a  right  of  action  against  the  water- 
bailiff. 

Upon  this  opinion  an  action  was  com- 
menced and  this  point  of  lawtirose,  how, 
whether,  when,  and  whereby,  or  by  whom, 
the  facts  could  be  proved  on  oath,  as  the 
boat  was  not  compos  mentis.  The  evidence 
point  was  settled  by  Boatum's  attorney, 
who  declared  that  for  his  client  he  would 
swear  any  thing. 

At  the  trial,  the  water-bailiffs  charter 
was  read,  from  the  original  record  in  true 
law  Latin,  to  support  an  averment  in  the 
declaration  that  the  plaintiffs  were  carried 
away  either  by  the  tide  of  flood,  or  the 
tide  of  ebb.  The  water-bailiffs  charter 
stated  of  him  and  of  the  river,  whereof  or 
wherein  he  thereby  claimed  jurisdiction, 
as  follows  : — Aquce  bailiffi,  est  magistrates 
in  choisi,  sapor  omnibus,  fishibus,  qui  ha- 
buerunt  finnos  et  scalos,  claivs,  shells,  et 
talos,  qui  swimmare  infreshibus,velsal- 
tibus,  riveris,  lakos,  pondis,  canalibus  et 
well  boats,  sive  oysteri,  prawni,  wkitini, 
shrimpi,  turbutus  solus  ;  that  is,  not  tur- 
bots  alone,  but  turbots  and  soals  both 
together.  Hereupon  arose  a  nicety  of  law  ; 
for  the  law  is  as  nice  as  a  new-laid  egg, 
and  not  to  be  understood  by  addle-headed 
people.  Bullum  and  Boatum  mentioned 
both  ebb  and  flood,  to  avoid  quibbling ; 
but  it  being  proved,  that  they  were  carried 
away  neither  by  the  tide  of  flood,  nor  by 
the  tide  of  ebb,  but  exactly  upon  the  top 
of  high  water,  they  were  nonsuited ;  and 
thereupon,  upon  their  paying  all  costs, 
they  were  allowed,  by  the  court,  to  begin 
again,  de  novo. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  37  •  82. 

jfebruarg  18. 

Revivification  of  Trees. 
Mr.  Arthur  Aikin,  in  his  "  Natural 
History  of  the  Year,"  narrates  the  first 
vital  function  in  trees  on  the  conclusion 
of  winter.  This  is  the  ascent  of  the  sap 
after  the  frost  is  moderated,  and  the  earth 
sufficiently  thawed.  The  absorbent  ves- 
sels composing  the  inner  bark  reach  to 
the  extremity  of  the  fibres  of  the  roots, 


and  thus,  through  the  roots,  imbibe  water, 
which,  mixing  there  with  a  quantity  of 
saccharine  matter,  forms  sap,  and  is  from 
thence  abundantly  distributed  through 
the  trunk  and  branches  to  every  indivi- 
dual bud.  The  birch  tree  in  spring,  on 
being  tapped,  yields  its  sap,  which  is  fer- 
mented into  wine.  The  palm  tree  in  the 
tropics  of  the  same  season  yields  its  sap 
by  the  same  method,  which  is  made  into 
palm  wine,  and  the  sap  of  the  swgar 
maple  in  North  America  being  boiled, 
yields  the  maple  sugar. 

"  This  great  accession  of  nourishment 
(the  sap}  causes  the  bud  to  swell,  to 
break  through  its  covering,  and  to  spread 
into  blossoms,  or  lengthen  into  a  shoot 
beaiing  leaves.  This  is  \\\Q  first  process, 
and,  properly  speaking,  is  all  that  belongs 
to  the  springing  or  elongation  of  trees  ; 
and  in  many  plants,  that  is,  all  those 
which  are  annual  or  deciduous,  there  is 
no  other  process ;  the  plant  absorbs  juices 
from  the  earth,  and  in  proportion  to  the 
quantity  of  these  juices  increases  in  size  : 
it  expands  its  blossoms,  perfects  its  fruit, 
and  when  the  ground  is  incapable  by 
drought  or  frost  of  yielding  any  more 
moisture,  or  when  the  vessels  of  the  plant 
are  not  able  to  draw  it  up,  the  plant 
perishes.  But  in  trees,  though  the  be- 
ginning and  end  of  the  first  process  is 
exactly  similar  to  what  takes  places  in 
vegetables,  yet  there  is  a  second  process, 
which  at  the  same  time  that  it  adds  to 
their  bulk,  enables  them  to  endure  and 
go  on  increasing  through  a  long  series  of 
years. 

"  The  second  process  begins  soon  after 
the  first,  in  this  way.  At  the  base  of  the 
footstalk  of  each  leaf  a  small  bud  is  gra- 
dually formed  ;  but  the  absorbent  vessels 
of  the  leaf  having  exhausted  themselves 
in  the  formation  of  the  bud,  are  unable 
to  bring  it  nearer  to  maturity:  in  this 
state  it  exactly  resembles  a  seed,  contain- 
ing within  it  the  rudiments  of  vegetation, 
but  destitute  of  absorbent  vessels  to  nou- 
rish and  evolve  the  embryo.  Being  sur- 
rounded, however,  by  sap,  like  a  seed  in 
moist  earth,  it  is  in  a  proper  situation  for 
growing ;  the  influence  of  the  sun  sets  in 
motion  the  juices  of  the  bud  and  of  the 
seed,  and  the  first  operation  in  both  of 
them  is  to  send  down  roots  a  certain 
depth  into  the  ground  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  the  necessary  moisture.  The 
bud  accordingly  shoots  down  its  roots 
upon  the  inner  bark  of  the  tree,  till  they 
reach  the  part  covered  by  the  earth. 


237 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—FEBRUARY  19,20. 


238 


Winter  now  arriving,  the  cold  and  defect 
of  moisture,  owing  to  the  clogged  condi- 
tion of  the  absorbent  vessels,  cause  the 
fruit  and  leaves  to  fall,  so  that,  except  the 
provision  of  buds  with  roots,  the  remain- 
der of  the  tree,  like  an  annual  plant,  is 
entirely  dead  :  the  leaves,  the  flowers, 
and  fruit  are  gone,  and  what  was  the 
inner  bark,  is  no  longer  organized,  while 
the  roots  of  the  buds  form  a  new  inner 
bark;  and  thus  the  buds  with  their  roots 
contain  all  that  remains  alive  of  the  whole 
tree.  It  is  owing  to  this  annual  renova- 
tion of  the  inner  bark,  that  the  tree  in- 
creases in  bulk  ;  and  a  new  coating  being 
added  every  year,  we  are  hence  furnished 
with  an  easy  and  exact  method  of  ascer- 
taining the  age  of  a  tree  by  counting  the 
number  of  concentric  circles  of  which  the 
trunk  is  composed.  A  tree,  therefore, 
properly  speaking,  is  rather  a  congeries 
of  a  multitude  of  annual  plants,  than  a 
perennial  individual. 

"  The  sap  in  trees  always  rises  as  soon 
as  the  frost  is  abated,  that  when  the  sti- 
mulus of  the  warm  weather  in  the  early 
spring  acts  upon  the  bud,  there  should  be 
at  hand  a  supply  of  food  for  its  nourish- 
ment ;  and  if  by  any  means  the  sap  is 
prevented  from  ascending  at  the  proper 
time,  the  tree  infallibly  perishes.  Of  this 
a  remarkable  instance  occurred  in  Lon- 
don, during  the  spring  succeeding  the 
hard  winter  of  the  year  1794.  The  snow 
and  ice  collecting  in  the  streets  so  as  to 
become  very  inconvenient,  they  were 
cleared,  and  many  cartloads  were  placed 
in  the  vacant  quarters  of  Moorfields ; 
several  of  these  heaps  of  snow  and  frozen 
rubbish  were  piled  rotnd  some  of  the 
elm-trees  that  grow  there.  At  the  return 
of  spring,  those  of  the  trees  that  were  not 
surrounded  with  the  snow  expanded  their 
leaves  as  usual,  while  the  others,  being 
still  girt  with  a  large  frozen  mass,  conti- 
nued quite  bare;  for  the  fact  was,  the 
absorbents  in  the  lower  part  of  the  stem, 
and  the  earth  in  which  the  trees  stood, 
were  still  exposed  to  a  freezing  cold.  In 
some  weeks,  however,  the  snow  was 
thawed,  but  the  greater  number  of  the 
trees  were  dead,  and  those  few  that  did 
produce  any  leaves  were  very  sickly,  and 
continued  in  a  languishing  state  all  sum- 
mer, and  then  died." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  37  •  92. 


jfebruarp  19. 


1826. — Second  Sunday  in  Lent. 
The  First  Bird's  Nest  in  Spring. 
Of  all  our  native  birds,  none  begins  to 
build  so  soon  as  the  raven  :  by  the  latter 
end  of  this  month  it  has  generally  laid  its 
eggs  and  begun  to  sit.  The  following 
anecdote,  illustrative  of  its  attachment  to 
its  nest,  is  related  by  Mr.  White  in  his 
"  Natural  History  of  Selborne."  "  In  the 
centre  of  this  grove  there  stood  an  oak, 
which,  though  shapely  and  tall  on  the 
whole,  bulged  out  into  a  large  excrescence 
about  the  middle  of  the  stem.  On  this  a 
pair  of  ravens  had  fixed  their  residence 
for  such  a  series  of  years,  that  the  oak 
was  distinguished  by  the  name  of  the 
raven-tree.  Many  were  the  attempts  of 
the  neighbouring  youths  to  get  at  this 
eyry;  the  difficulty  whetted  their  inclina- 
tions, and  each  was  ambitious  of  sur- 
mounting the  arduous  task.  But  when 
they  arrived  at  the  swelling,  it  jutted  out 
so  much  in  their  way,  and  was  so  far 
beyond  their  grasp,  that  the  most  daring 
lads  were  awed,  and  acknowledged  the 
undertaking  to  be  too  hazardous.  So  the 
ravens  built  on,  nest  upon  nest,  in  per- 
fect security,  till  the  fatal  day  arrived  in 
which  the  wood  was  to  be  levelled.  It 
was  in  the  month  of  February,  when  those 
birds  usually  sit.  The  saw  was  applied 
to  the  butt,  the  wedges  were  inserted  into 
the  opening,  the  woods  echoed  to  the 
heavy  blows  of  the  beetle  and  mallet,  the 
tree  nodded  to  ,ts  fall,  but  still  the  dam 
sat  on.  A't  last,  when  it  gave  way,  the 
bird  was  flung  from  her  nest;  and  though 
her  parental  affection  deserved  a  bettei 
fate,  was  whipped  down  by  the  twigs, 
which  brought  her  dead  to  the  ground."* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  •  37. 

Jfebruarp  20. 

The  frays  of  the  Season. 

The  roads  now  are  usually  heavy,  that 
is,  the  thaws  have  so  entirely  liberated 
the  water  in  the  earth,  that  the  subsoil, 
which  had  been  expanded  by  the  action  of 
the  frost,  becomes  loosened,  and,  yielding 
mud  to  the  surface,  increases  the  draught 
of  carriages.  Now,  therefore,  the  com- 

*  Aikin's  Nat.  Hist,  of  the  Year. 


239 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  20. 


240 


missioners  and  agents  who  execute  their 
duty  have  full  employment,  and  the  high- 
ways afford  employment  to  a  large  num- 


ber of  persons  who  are  destitute  of  their 
customary  labour,  or  unfit  for  other 
work. 


CrabeUfng  m  Sfr 

And  is  it  you'd  be  riding,  by  Blackwater  to  Fermoy  1 
You'll  be  accommodated,  to  your  heart's  content  and  joy, 
There's  not  a  beast,  nor  car,  but  what's  beautiful  and  easy  ; 
And  then  the  pleasant  road — bad's  the  luck  but  it  '11  please  ye  ! 

MS.  Ballad. 


Mr.  Crofton  Croker's  "  Researches  in 
the  South  of  Ireland,"  besides  accounts  of 
scenery  and  architectural  remains,  and 
illustrations  of  popular  manners  and  su- 
perstition, conveys  a  very  good  idea  of 
the  roads  and  the  methods  of  travelling 
in  that  part  of  the  sister  kingdom.  The 
usual  conveyance  is  called  a  car ;  its 
wheels  are  either  a  solid  block  rounded 
to  the  desired  size,  or  they  are  formed 
of  three  pieces  of  wood  clamped  toge- 
ther. The  wheels  are  fixed  to  a  massive 
wooden  axletree  ;  this  supports  the  shaft?, 
which  are  as  commonly  constructed  on  the 
outside  as  on  the  inside  of  the  wheels.  In 
one  of  these  machines  Mr.  Croker,  with  a 
lady  and  gentleman  who  accompanied  him 
on  his  tour,  took  their  seats.  The  car  and 
horse  were  precisely  of  that  description 
and  condition  in  the  engraving.  Mr.  W. 
H.  Brooke  painted  a  picture  of  this  gen- 
tleman's party,  from  whence  he  has  oblig- 
ingly  made  the  drawing  for  the  present 


purpose ;  the  only  alteration  is  in  the 
travellers,  for  whom  he  has  substituted  a 
family  on  their  removal  from  one  cabin  to 
another. 

This,  which  is  the  common  Irish  car, 
is  used  throughout  the  province  of  Lein- 
ster,  the  midland  counties,  and  some  parts 
of  the  north.  The  country,  or  farmer's 
car  always  has  the  wheels  on  the  ouiside 
of  the  shafts,  with  a  balustrade  or  up- 
right railing  fixed  from  the  shaft  to  the 
side  bars,  which  rise  diagonally  from  themj 
this  sort  of  enclosure  is  also  at  the  back. 
This  car  is  open  at  top  for  the  convenience 
of  carrying  hay,  corn,  vegetables,  tubs, 
packages,  and  turf,  which  is  generally 
placed  in  wicker  baskets,  called  a  "  kish  ;" 
two  or  four  of  these  placed  side  by  side 
occupy  the  entire  body.  The  car,  with 
the  wheels  between  the  shafts,  is  used  io» 
like  purposes,  but  has  the  additional  ho- 
nour of  being  rendered  a  family  convey 
ance,  by  cart  ropes  intertwisted  01  crossing 


S4I 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  20. 


242 


each  other  from  the  top  bars,  whereon  a 
ticking,  stuffed  with  straw,  and  a  quilt  or 
coverlid,  form  a  cushion  for  the  comfort 
of  the  travellers.  The  car  is  the  common, 
and  indeed  the  only,  mode  of  carrying 
coals  in  the  city  of  Dublin  to  the  houses 
of  the  consumers  :  from  six  to  nine  sacks, 


making  about  half  a  ton,  lie  very  snugly 
across  the  bars.  Of  course,  as  a  family 
conveyance,  it  is  only  in  use  among  the 
poorest  class  in  the  country. 

The  common  car  somewhat  varies  in 
shape,  as  will  appear  from  the  following 
figure,  also  drawn  by  Mr.  Brooke. 


It  must  be  added,  that  though  these 
cars  maintain  their  ground  in  uncul- 
tivated districts,  they  are  quickly  dis- 
appearing, in  the  improved  parts  of  Ire- 
land, before  the  Scotch  carts  introduced 
by  the  agricultural  societies. 

The  Irish  "jaunting-car,"  the  "  jingle," 
the  "  noddy,'*  and  a  variety  of  other  car- 
riages, which  ply  for  hire  in  Dublin,  are 
wholly  distinct  and  superior  vehicles. 

The  following  interesting  narrative,  in 
the  words  of  its  author,  illustrates  the  na- 
ture of  the  car,  the  state  of  the  roads, 
and  the  "  manners"  of  the  people. 

A  JAUNT  IN  A  COUNTRY  CAR 

From  Lismore  to  Fermoy 
BY  T.  CROFTON  CROKER,  ESQ. 

Having  hired  a  car  at  Lismore  to  take 
us  to  Fermoy,  and  wishing  to  walk  part 
of  the  way  along  the  banks  of  the  Black- 
water,  we  desired  the  driver  to  meet  us 
at  a  given  point.  On  arriving  there,  the 
man  pretended  not  to  have  understood  we 
were  three  in  party,  and  demanded,  in 
consequence,  an  exorbitant  addition  to 
the  sum  agreed  on.  Although  we  were 
without  any  other  means  of  conveyance 
for  eight  Irish  miles,  it  was  resolved  not 
to  submit  to  this  imposition,  and  we  ac- 
cordingly withdrew  our  luggage  and  dis- 
missed the  car,  intending  to  seek  another 
amongst  a  few  cabins  that  appeared  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  road  side.  A  high 
dispute  ensued  with  the  driver,  who,  of 
course,  was  incensed  at  this  proceeding, 
and  endeavoured  to  enlist  in  his  cause  the 


few  straggling  peasants  that  had  collected 
around  us  ;  but  having  taken  refuge  and 
placed  our  trunks  in  the  nearest  cabin, 
ourselves  and  property  became  sacred, 
and  the  disposition  to  hostility,  which  had 
been  at  first  partially  expressed,  gradually- 
died  away.  When  we  began  to  make 
inquiries  for  a  horse  and  car  of  any  kind 
to  take  us  into  Fermoy,  our  endeavours 
were  for  some  time  fruitless.  One  person 
had  a  car,  but  no  horse.  Another  had  a 
car  building,  which,  if  Dermot  Leary  were 
as  good  as  his  word,  would  be  finished 
next  week  some  time,  "  God  willing." 
At  length  we  gained  intelligence  of  a 
horse  that  was  "  only  two  miles  off,  draw- 
ing turf:  sure  he  could  be  fetched  in 
less  than  no  time."  But  then  again, 
"  that  big  car  of  Thaddy  Connor's  was 
too  great  a  load  for  him  entirely.  Sure' 
the  baste  would  never  draw  the  car  into 
Fermoy,  let  alone  their  honours  and  the 
trunks."  After  some  further  consultation, 
a  car  was  discovered  more  adapted  to  the 
capabilities  of  the  miserable  animal  thus 
called  upon  to  "  leave  work  and  carry 
wood,"  and  though  of  the  commonest 
kind  we  were  glad  to  secure  it.  By  means 
of  our  trunks  and  some  straw  we  formed 
a  kind  of  lodgment  on  the  car,  which, 
being  without  springs  and  on  the  worst 
possible  of  roads,  was  not  exactly  a  bed 
of  down.  The  severe  contusions  we  re- 
ceived on  precipitating  into  the  numerous 
cavities,  though  no  joke,  caused  some 
laughter ;  on  which  the  driver  turned 
round  with  a  most  facetious  expression  of 
countenance,  suggesting  that  "«  May  be 
the  motion  did  not  just  agree  with  the 


243 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  20. 


244 


lady,  but  never  fear,  she  would  soon  get 
nsed  to  it,  and  be  asleep  before  we  got 
half  wav  to  Fermoy."  This  prediction, 
it  will  readily  be  supposed,  was  not  ful- 
filled; and  I  believe  it  was  three  days  be- 
fore we  recovered  from  the  bruises  of  that 
journey.  It  is  difficulty  to  say  whether 
our  situation  will  excite  mirth  or  sympathy 
in  the  minds  of  our  readers,  but  a  sketch 
may  do  no  injury  to  the  description.  [In 
Mr.  Croker's  volume  an  engraving  on 
wood  is  inserted.] 

Many  Irish  villages  boast  a  post-chaise, 
the  horses  for  which  are  not  unfrequently 
taken  from  the  plough,  and  the  chaise 
itself  submitted  to  a  temporary  repair 
before  starting,  to  render  it,  if  the  parody 
of  a  nautical  phrase  may  be  allowed, 
"  road-worthy  ;  but  the  defects  are  never 
thought  of  one  moment  before  the  chaise 
is  required ;  and  the  miseries  of  posting 
in  Ireland  have,  with  justice,  afforded 
subject  for  the  caricaturist.  Tired  horses 
or  a  break-down  are  treated  by  a  driver, 
whose  appearance  is  the  very  reverse  of 
the  smart  jockey-like  costume  of  an  Eng- 
lish postilion,  with  the  utmost  resigna- 
tion, as  matters  of  unavoidable  necessity. 
With  a  slouched  hat — slovenly  shoes  and 
stockings — and  a  long,  loose  great  coat 
wrapped  round  him,  he  sits  upon  a  bar 
in  front  of  the  carriage  and  urges  on  his 
horses  by  repeated  applications  of  the 
whip,  accompanied  with  the  most  singu- 
lar speeches,  and  varied  by  an  involun- 
tary burst  of  his  musical  talent,  whistling 
a  tune  adapted  to  the  melancholy  pace  of 
the  fatigued  animals,  as  he  walks  slowly 
beside  them  up  the  ascent  of  every  Mil. 

"  Did  you  give  the  horses  a  feed  of 
oats  at  the  village  where  we  stopped  to 
sketch  1"  inquired  one  of  my  fellow -tra- 
vellers of  the  driver,  who  for  the  last 
three  or  four  miles  had  with  much  exer- 
tion urged  on  the  jaded  hacks. 

"  I  did  not,  your  honour,"  was  the 
reply,  "  but  sure,  and  they  know  I  pro- 
mised them  a  good  one  at  Limerick." 

Nor  is  this  instance  of  pretended  un- 
derstanding between  man  and  horse  sin- 
gular. Riding  once  in  company  with  a 
poor  farmer  from  Cork  to  Mallow,  I  ad- 
vised him  to  quicken  the  pace  of  his 
steed  as  the  evening  was  closing  in,  and 
the  lurid  appearance  of  the  sky  foreboded 
a  storm. 

"  Sure  then  that  I  would  with  the 
greatest  pleasure  in  life  for  the  honour  I 
have  out  of  your  company,  sir ;  but  I 
promised  the  baste  to  let  him  walk,  and 


I  never  belie  myself  to  any  one,  much 
less  to  a  poor  creature  that  carries  me — 
for,  says  the  baste  to  me,  I'm  tired,  as 
good  right  I  have,  and  I'll  not  go  a  step 
faster— rand  you  won't  make  me — I  scorn 
it  says  I,  so  take  your  own  way." 

A  verbatim  dialogue  on  an  Irish  break- 
down happily  characterises  that  accident : 
the  scene,  a  bleak  mountain,  and  the 
time,  the  return  of  the  driver  with  ano- 
ther chaise  from  the  nearest  station  which 
afforded  one — seven  miles  distant. 

"  Is  the  carriage  you  have  brought  us 
safe  r 

(One  of  the  travellers  attempts  to  get 
in) 

"  Oh  never  fear,  sir ;  wait  till  I  just 
bail  out  the  water  and  put  a  little  sop  01 
hay  in  the  bottom — and  sure  now  and  'tis 
a  queer  thing  that  the  ould  black  chaise 
should  play  such  a  trick,  and  it  has  gone 
this  road  eleven  years  and  never  broke 
down  afore.  But  no  wonder  poor  cratur, 
the  turnpike  people  get  money  enough 
for  mending  the  roads,  and  bad  luck  to 
the  bit  of  it  they  mend,  but  put  it  all  in 
their  pockets." 

"  What,  the  road  ?" 

"  Noe,  your  honour,  the  money." 

To  such  as  can  bear  with  composure  and 
indifference  lesser  and  temporary  misfor- 
tunes, those  attendant  on  an  Irish  tour 
become  objects  of  merriment ;  the  very 
essence  of  the  innate  ingenuity  and  wit 
of  the  people  is  called  out  by  such  evils  ; 
and  the  customary  benediction  muttered 
by  the  peasant  on  the  meeting  a  traveller, 
is  changed  into  the  whimsical  remark  or 
shrewd  reply  that  mock  anticipation. 

Of  late,  jingles,  as  they  are  termed, 
have  been  established  between  the  prin- 
cipal towns.  These  are  carriages  on  easy 
springs,  calculated  to  contain  six  or  eight 
persons.  The  roof  is  supported  by  a 
slight  iron  frame  capable  of  being  unfixed 
in  fine  weather,  and  the  curtains,  which 
may  be  opened  and  closed  at  will,  afford 
complete  protection  from  sun  and  rain ; 
their  rate  of  travelling  is  nearly  the  same 
as  that  of  the  stage-coach,  and  they  are 
both  a  cheaper  and  more  agreeable* con- 
veyance. 

On  our  way  from  Cork  to  Youghall  in 
one  of  these  machines,  we  were  followed 
by  a  poor  wretch  ejaculating  the  most 
dreadful  oaths  and  imprecations  in  Irish. 
His  head  was  of  an  uncommonly  large 
and  stupid  shape,  and  his  idiotic  coun- 
tenance was  rendered  fierce  and  wild  by 
a  long  and  bushy  red  beard.  On  our 


245 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  21. 


246 


driver  giving  him  a  piece  of  bread,  for 
•which  he  had  run  beside  the  jingle  at 
least  half  a  mile,  he  uttered  three  or  four 
terrific  screams,  accompanied  by  some 
antic  and  spiteful  gestures.  I  should  not 
remark  this  circumstance  here  were  it 
one  of  less  frequent  occurrence  ;  but  on 
most  of  the  public  roads  in  the  south  of 
Ireland,  fools  and  idiots  (melancholy 
spectacles  of  humanity !)  are  permitted 
to  wander  at  large,  and  in  consequence 
of  this  freedom  have  acquired  vicious 
habits,  to  the  annoyance  of  every  pas- 
senger :  throwing  stones,  which  they  do 
with  great  dexterity,  is  amongst  the  most 
dangerous  of  their  practices,  and  a  case 
is  known  to  me  where  the  wife  of  a  re- 
spectable farmer,  having  been  struck  on 
the  temple  by  a  stone  thrown  at  her  by 
an  idiot,  died  a  few  days  after.  Within 
my  recollection,  Cove-lane,  one  of  the 
most  frequented  parts  of  Cork,  as  leading 
to  the  Cove-passage,  Carrigaline  and 
Monkstown  roads,  was  the  station  of  one 
of  these  idiots,  who  seldom  allowed  an 
unprotected  woman  to  pass  without  fol- 
lowing her,  and  inflicting  the  most  severe 
pinches  on  her  back  and  arms ;  yet  this 
unfortunate  and  mischievous  being  for 
many  years  was  suffered  by  the  civil 
power  to  remain  the  terror  of  every  fe- 
male, and  that  too  within  view  of  a  pub- 
lic asylum  for  the  reception  of  such.  But 
to  return  from  this  digression. 

The  charges  at  inferior  towns  and  vil- 
lages are  extravagant  in  an  inverse  pro- 
portion to  the  indifference  of  their  accom- 
modation, and  generally  exceed  those  of 
the  first  hotels  in  the  metropolis.  Our 
bill  at  Kilmallock  was  any  thing  but 
moderate,  and  yet  the  house,  though  the 
best  the  town  afforded,  appeared  to  be 
one  where  carmen  were  oftener  lodged 
than  gentry.  The  landlady  stood  at  the 
door,  and  with  a  low  curtsey  and  a  good- 
humoured  smile  welcomed  us  to  "  the 
ancient  city  of  Kilmallock  ;"  in  the  same 
breath  informed  us,  that  she  was  a  gentle- 
woman born  and  bred,  and  that  she  had 
a  son,  "  as  fine  an  officer  as  ever  you 
could  set  eyes  on  in  a  day's  walk,  who 
was  a  patriarch  (a  patriot)  in  South 
America;"  then  leading  us  up  a  dark 
and  narrow  staircase  to  the  apartment  we 
were  to  occupy,  wished  to  know  our 
names  and  business,  whence  we  came 
and  where  we  were  going  ;  but  left  the 
room  on  our  inquiring,  in  the  first  place, 
what  we  could  have  to  eat.  After  wait- 
ing a  reasonable  time  our  demands  were 


attended  to  by  a  barefooted  female,  who 
to  our  anxiety  respecting  what  we  could 
have  for  supper,  replied  with  perfect  con- 
fidence, "  Just  any  thing  you  like,  sure !" 
"  Have  you  any  thing  in  the  house?" 
"  Indeed  and  we  have  not ;  but  it's 
likely  I  might  be  able  to  get  an  egg  for 
ye." 

An  examination  of  the  bedrooms  will 
not  prove  more  satisfactory;  a  glass  or 
soap  are  luxuries  seldom  found.  Some- 
times one  coarse  and  very  small  towel  is 
provided;  at  Kilmallock,  the  measure- 
ment of  mine  was  half  a  yard  in  length 
and  a  quarter  in  breadth ;  its  complexion, 
too,  evinced  that  it  had  assisted  in  the 
partial  ablutions  of  many  unfastidious 
persons.  Mr.  Arthur  Young's  constant 
ejaculation,  when  he  lighted  on  such 
quarters  in  Ireland,  usually  occurred  to 
my  mind,  "  Preserve  me,  Fate,  from  such 
another !"  and  I  have  no  doubt  he  would 
agree  with  me,  that  two  very  essential 
requisites  in  an  Irish  tour  are  a  stock  of 
linen,  and  a  tolerable  partiality  for  bacon. 
But  travellers,  any  more  than  beggars, 
cannot  always  be  choosers,  and  those  who 
will  not  submit  with  patience  to  the  ac- 
cidents and  inconveniences  of  a  journey, 
must  sit  at  home  and  read  the  road  that 
others  travel. 

"  Who  alwaies  walkes,  on  carpet  soft  and 

say> 

Knowes  not  hard  hills,  nor  likes  the  moun- 
taine  way."* 

NATURALISTS'   CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  39  *  17. 

jfefcruarp  21. 

Seasonable  Rules. 

On  p.  187  there  is  a  "  Letter,"  delivered 
to  a  favourite  servant  at  parting,  which 
deserves  to  be  printed  in  letters  of  gold, 
or,  what  is  better,  because  it  is  easier  and 
more  useful,  it  should  be  imprinted  on 
the  memory  of  every  person  who  reads 
it.  There  are  sentiments  in  it  as  useful 
to  masters  and  mistresses  as  their  do- 
mestics. The  following  "  Rules  "  may 
likewise  be  perused  with  advantage  by 
both ;  they  are  deemed  "  seasonable, 
because,  as  good-livers  say,  good  things 
are  never  out  of  season. 


*  Mr.  Croker's  Researches  in  the  South  of  Ir* 
land,  1824,  4to.  This  gentleman's  excursions  wer* 
made  between  the  years  18'?  and  1822. 


247 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  21. 


248 


Rules  for  Servants. 

I.  A  good  character  is  valuable  to  every 
cne,  but  especially  to  servants  ;  for  it  is 
their  bread,  and  without  it  they  cannot 
be  admitted  into  any  creditable  family ; 
and  happy  it  is  that  the  best  of  characters 
is  in  every  one's  power  to  deserve. 

II.  Engage    yourself  cautiously,    but 
stay  long  in  your  place,  for  long  service 
shows  worth — as  quitting  a  good  place 
through  passion,  is  a  folly  which  is  always 
lamented  of  too  late. 

III.  Never  undertake  any  place  you  are 
not  qualified  for ;  for  pretending  to  what 
you  do  not  understand,  exposes  yourself, 
and,  what  is  still  worse,  deceives  them 
whom  you  serve. 

IV.  Preserve  your  fidelity ;  for  a  faith- 
ful servant  is  a  jewel,  for  whom  no  encou- 
ragement can  be  too  great. 

V.  Adhere  to  truth;   for  falsehood  is 
detestable,  and  he  that  tells  one  lie,  must 
tell  twenty  more  to  conceal  it. 

VI.  Be  strictly  honest ;  for  it  is  shame- 
ful to  be  thought  unworthy  of  trust. 

VII.  Be  modest  in  your  behaviour ;  it 
becomes  your  station,  and  is  pleasing  to 
your  superiors. 

VIII.  Avoid  pert  answers  ;    for  civil 
language  is  cheap,  and  impertinence  pro- 
voking. 

IX.  Be   clean   in  your  business ;   for 
those  who  are  slovens  and  sluts,  are  dis- 
respectful servants. 

X.  Never  tell  the  affairs  of  the  family 
you  belong  to  ;  for  that  is  a  sort  of  trea- 
chery,   and  often  makes  mischief;    but 
keep   their  secrets,    and    have   none  of 
your  own. 

XI.  Live   friendly   with  your  fellow- 
servants  ;    for  the  contrary  destroys  the 
peace  of  the  house. 

XII.  Above  all  things  avoid  drunken- 
ness ;  for  that  is  an  inlet  to  vice,  the  ruin 
of  your  character,  and  the  destruction  of 
your  constitution. 

XIII.  Prefer    a   peaceable  life,    with 
moderate  gains,  to  great  advantage  and 
irregularity. 

XIV.  Save  your  money  ;  for  that  will 
be  a  friend  to  you  in  old  age.     Be  not 
expensive  in  dress,  nor  marry  too  soon. 

XV.  Be  careful  of  your  master's  pro- 
perty ;  for  wastefulness  is  a  sin. 

XVI.  Never  swear  ;  for  that  is  a  crime 
without  excuse,  as  there  is  no  pleasure 
in  it. 

XVII.  Be  always  ready  to  assist  a  fel- 
low-servant ;  for  good   feature  gains  the 
love  of  every  wr.f. 


.XVIIT.  Never  stay  when  sent  on  a 
message ;  for  waiting  long  is  painful  to 
your  master,  and  a  quick  return  shows 
diligence. 

XIX.  Rise  early ;  for  it  i?  difficult  to 
recover  lost  time. 

XX.  The  servant  that  often  changes  his 
place,   works  only  to  be  poor ;  for  •«  the 
rolling-stone  gathers  no  moss." 

XXI.  Be  not  fond  of  increasing  your 
acquaintances ;  for  visiting  leads  you  out 
of  your  business,  robs   your  master   of 
your  time,  and  often  puts  you  to  an  ex- 
pense you  cannot  afford.     And  above  all 
things,  take  care  with  whom  you  are  ac- 
quainted ;  for  persons  are  generally  the 
better  or  the  worse  for  the  company  they 
keep. 

XXII.  When  out  of  place,  be  careful 
where  you  lodge;  for  living  in  a  disre- 
putable house,  puts  you   upon  a  footing 
with  those  that  keep  it,  however  innocent 
you  are  yourself. 

XXIII.  Never   go   out  on  your   own 
business,  without  the  knowledge  of  the 
family,  lest  in  your  absence  you  should 
be  wanted ;  for   "  Leave   is  light,"  and 
returning  punctually  at  the  time  you  pro- 
mise, shows  obedience,  and  is  a  proof  of 
sobriety. 

XXIV.  If  yon  are    dissatisfied   with 
your  place,  mention  your  objections  mo- 
destly to  your   master  or  mistress,  and 
give  a  fair  warning,  and  do  not  neglect 
your  business  nor  behave  ill,  in  order  to 
provoke  them  to  turn  you  away ;  for  this 
will  be  a  blemish  in  your  character,  which 
you  must  always  have  from  the  last  place 
you  served  in. 

***All  who  pay  a  due  regard  to  the  above 
precepts,  will  be  happy  in  themselves,  will 
never  want  friends,  and  will  always  meet 
with  the  assistance,  protection,  and  encou- 
ragement of  the  wealthy,  the  worthy,  and 
the  wise. 

The  preceding  sentences  are  contained 
in  a  paper  which  a  young  person  com- 
mitted to  heart  on  first  getting  a  place, 
and,  having  steadily  observed,  obtained  a 
character  for  integrity  and  worth  incapable 
of  being  shaken.  By  constantly  keeping 
in  view  that "  Honesty  is  the  best  policy," 
it  led  to  prosperity,  and  the  faithful 
servant  became  an  opulent  employer  ol 
servants. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  41  •  70. 


249 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  22,  23. 


250 


22. 

GENERAL    ELECTION. 

1826.  This  year  may  be  deemed  re- 
markable in  the  history  of  modern  times, 
for  its  being  the  period  wherein,  for  the 
first  time  within  the  memory  of  man,  a 
parliament  expired  by  efflux  of  time. 
Most  of  the  preceding  parliaments  were 
dissolved,  but  this  attained  to  its  full 
duration  of  seven  years. 


THE  FREEMAN'S  WELL  AT  ALNWICK. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 


Sir, 


Kensington,  Feb.  1826. 


I  hope  the  following  description  of  an 
extraordinary  custom  which  has  obtain- 
ed at  Alnwick,  in  Northumberland,  may 
be  considered  worthy  preservation  in 
The  Every-Day  Book. 

About  four  miles  from  the  above  town 
there  is  a  pond,  known  by  the  name  of 
the  Freeman's  well;  through  which  it 
has  been  customary  for  the  freemen  to 
pass  from  time  immemorial  before  they 
can  obtain  their  freedom.  This  is  con- 
sidered  so  indispensable,  that  no  exemp- 
tion is  permitted,  and  without  passing 
this  ordeal  the  freedom  would  not  be 
conferred.  The  pond  is  prepared  by 
proper  officers  in  such  a  manner,  as  to 
give  the  greatest  possible  annoyance  to 
the  persons  who  are  to  pass  through  it. 
Great  dikes,  or  mounds,  are  erected  in 
different  parts,  so  that  the  candidate  for 
his  freedom  is  at  one  moment  seen  at  the 
top  of  one  of  them  only  up  to  his  knees, 
and  the  next  instant  is  precipitated  into  a 
gulf  below,  in  which  he  frequently 
plunges  completely  over  head.  The  water 
is  purposely  rendered  so  muddy,  that  it 
is  impossible  to  see  where  these  dikes 
are  situated,  or  by  any  precaution  to 
avoid  them.  Those  aspiring  to  the  ho- 
nour of  the  freedom  of  Alnwick,  are 
dressed  in  white  stockings,  white  panta- 


loons, and  white  caps.  After  they  have 
"  reached  the  point  proposed,"  they  are 
suffered  to  put  on  their  usual  clothes,  and 
obliged  to  join  in  a  procession,  and  ride 
for  several  miles  round  the  boundaries  of 
the  freemen's  property — a  measure  which 
is  not  a  mere  formality  for  parade,  but 
absolutely  indispensable;  since,  if  they 
omit  visiting  any  part  of  their  property, 
it  is  claimed  by  his  grace  the  duke  of 
Northumberland,  whose  steward  follows 
the  procession,  to  note  if  any  such  omis- 
sion occurs.  The  origin  of  the  practice 
of  travelling  through  the  pond  is  not 
known.  A  tradition  is  current,  that  king 
John  was  once  nearly  drowned  upon  the 
spot  where  this  pond  is  situated,  and 
saved  his  life  by  clinging  to  a  holly  tree ; 
and  that  he  determined,  in  consequence, 
thenceforth,  that  before  any  candidate 
could  obtain  the  freedom  of  Alnwick,  he 
should  not  only  wade  through  this  pond, 
but  plant  a  holly  tree  at  the  door  of  his 
house  on  the  same  day ;  and  this  custom 
is  still  scrupulously  obserred.  In  the 
month  of  February,  1824,  no  less  than 
thirteen  individuals  went  through  the 
above  formalities. 

I  am,  &c. 

T.  A. 


NATURALISTS7     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  42  •  61 . 


23. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

1821.  John  Keats,  the  poet,  died, 
Virulent  and  unmerited  attacks  upon  his 
literary  ability,  by  an  unprincipled  and 
malignant  reviewer,  injured  his  rising 
reputation,  overwhelmed  his  spirits,  and 
he  sunk  into  consumption.  In  that  state 
he  fled  for  refuge  to  the  climate  of  Italy, 
caught  cold  on  the  voyage,  and  perished 
in  Rome,  at  the  early  age  of  25.  Speci- 
mens of  his  talents"  are  in  the  former 
volume  of  this  work.  One  of  his  last 
poems  was  in  prospect  of  departure  from 
his  native  shores.  It  is  an 


Ode  to  a  Nightingale. 


My  heart  aches,  and  a  drowsy  numbness  pains 
My  sense,  as  though  of  hemlock  I  had  drunk, 

Or  emptied  some  dull  opiate  to  the  drains 
One  minute  past,  and  Lethe- wards- had  sunk  : 


251  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  23  255 

Tis  not  through  envy  of  thy  happy  lot, 
But  being  too  happy  in  thine  happiness, — 
That  thou,  light-winged  Dryad  of  the  tress, 

In  some  melodious  plot 
Of  beechen  green,  and  shadows  numberless, 
Singest  of  summer  in  full-throated  ease. 

2. 
O,  for  a  draught  of  vintage !  that  hath  been 

Cool'd  a  long  age  in  the  deep-delved  earth, 
Tasting  of  Flora  and  the  country  green, 

Dance,  and  Provencal  song,  and  sunburnt  mirth! 

0  for  a  beaker  full  of  the  warm  South, 
Full  of  the  true,  the  blushful  Hippocrene, 

With  beaded  bubbles  winking  at  the  brim, 

And  purple-stained  mouth ; 
That  I  might  drink,  and  leave  the  world  unseen, 
And  with  thee  fade  away  into  the  forest  dim  : 

3. 
Fade  far  away,  dissolve,  and  quite  forget 

What  thou  among  the  leaves  hast  never  known, 
The  weariness,  the  fever,  and  the  fret 

Here,  where  men  sit  and  hear  each  other  groan  ; 
Where  palsy  shakes  a  few,  sad,  last  grey  hairs, 

Where  youth  grows  pale,  and  spectre-thin,  and  die?  ; 
Where  but  to  think  is  to  be  full  of  sorrow 

And  leaden-eyed  despairs, 
Where  Beauty  cannot  keep  her  lustrous  eyes, 
Or  new  Love  pine  at  them  beyond  to-morrow. 

4. 
Away  !  away !  for  I  will  fly  to  thee, 

Not  charioted  by  Bacchus  and  his  pards, 
But  on  the  viewless  wings  of  Poesy, 

Though  the  dull  brain  perplexes  and  retards  : 
Already  with  thee  !  tender  is  the  night, 

And  haply  the  Queen-Moon  is  on  her  throne, 
Cluster'd  around  by  all  her  starry  Fays  ; 

But  here  there  is  no  light, 
Save  what  from  heaven  is  with  the  breezes  blown 

Through  verdurous  glooms  and  winding  mossy  wayi*. 

5. 

1  cannot  see  what  flowers  are  at  my  feet, 

Nor  what  soft  incense  hangs  upon  the  boughs, 
But,  in  embalmed  darkness,  guess  each  sweet 

Wherewith  the  seasonable  month  endows 
The  grass,  the  thicket,  and  the  fruit-tree  wild ; 
White- hawthorn,  and  the  pastoral  eglantine; 
Fast  fading  violets  cover'd  up  in  leaves ; 

And  mid-May's  eldest  child, 
The  coming  musk-rose,  full  of  dewy  wine, 

The  murmurous  haunt  of  flies  on  summer  evto. 

6. 

Darkling  I  listen ;  and,  for  many  a  time 

I  have  been  half  in  love  with  easeful  Death, 
Call'd  him  soft  names  in  many  a  mused  rhyme, 

To  take  into  the  air  my  quiet  breath  ; 


253  THE  EV ERA -DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  24,25.  254 

Now  more  than  ever  seems  it  rich  to  die, 

To  cease  upon  the  midnight  with  no  pain, 
While  thou  art  pouring  forth  thy  soul  abroad 
In  such  an  ecstasy ! 

Still  wouldst  thou  sing,  and  I  have  ears  in  vain—- 
To thy  high  requiem  become  a  sod. 

7. 
Thou  wast  not  born  for  death,  immortal  Bird ! 

No  hungry  generations  tread  thee  down  ; 
The  voice  I  hear  this  passing  night  was  heard 

In  ancient  days  by  emperor  and  clown  : 
Perhaps  the  self-same  song  that  found  a  path 

Through  the  sad  heart  of  Ruth,  when,  sick  for  home, 
She  stood  in  tears  amid  the  alien  corn ; 

The  same  that  oft-times  hath 
Charmed  magic  casements,  opening  on  the  foam 
Of  perilous  seas,  in  faery  lands  forlorn. 

8. 
Forlorn !  the  very  word  is  like  a  bell 

To  toll  me  back  from  thee  to  my  sole  self! 
Adieu  !  the  fancy  cannot  cheat  so  well 
As  she  is  famed  to  do,  deceiving  elf. 
Adieu !  adieu  !  thy  plaintive  anthem  fades 
Past  the  near  meadows,  over  the  still  stream, 
Up  the  hill-side ;  and  now  'tis  buried  deep 

In  the  next  valley-glades  : 
Was  it  a  vision,  or  a  waking  dream  ? 

Fled  is  that  music : — Do  I  wake  or  sleep  ? 

This  ode  was  included  with  "  Lamia,  mission,  and  the  year  and  manner  of  his 

Isabella,  the  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  and  other  death,  though  all  concur  in  saying  he  was 

Poems,"    by  John  Keats,  published    by  martyred.      Dr.   Cave   affirms,   that  he 

Messrs.  Taylor  and  Hessey,  who,  in  an  suffered  by  the  cross.     He  is  presumed 

advertisement  at   the  beginning  of  the  do  have  died  A.D.  61  or  64. 
book,  allude  to  the  critical  ferocity  which 

lastened  the  poet's  death.  

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR.  M        Temperature  ...  42  •  22. 

Mean  Temperature.  .  .  41  •  57. 

24-  Jfebruarp  25. 

St.  Matthias.  —  Holiday   at  the   Public  1826.— Third  Sunday  in  Lent. 

Offices.  STORM    SUPERSTITIONS. 

After  the  crucifixion,  and  the  death  of  The   stilling   of  the   waves  by  oil  is 

the  traitor  Judas,  Peter,  in  the  midst  of  briefly  noticed  at  p.  192,  and  another  in- 

.he  disciples,  they  being  in  number  about  stance  is  subjoined. 
a    hundred   and   twenty,   proposed    the 

election  of  an  apostle  in  his  stead,  "  and  Oil  for  a  fair  Wind. 

they  appointed  two,  Joseph,  called  Bar-  C.   W.,   in    Dr.    Aikin's    Athenaeum, 

sabas,  who   was  surnamed  Justus,  and  says :  "  About  twelve  years  ago,  during 

Matthias  :  and  they  prayed"  to  be  direct-  my  stay  at  Malta,  I  was  introduced  to  the 

ed  in  their  choice,  "  and  they  gave  forth  bey  of  Bengazi,  in  Africa,  who  was  going 

their  lots ;  and  the  lot  fell  upon  Matthias,  with  his  family   and  a  large  retinue  of 

and   he  was  numbered  with  the  eleven  servants   to  Mecca.      He   very   politely 

apostles."  (Acts  i.  23-26.)     Writers  dis-  offered  me  and  my  companion  a  passage 

agree  as  to  the  particular  places  of  his  to   Egypt.     We   embarked   on  board   a 


255 


THE  EVER Y-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  25. 


256 


French  brig  which  the  bey  had  freighted, 
arid  very  unfortunately  were  captured  by 
an  English  letter  of  marque  within  a  few 
leagues  of  Alexandria.  The  captain, 
however,  was  kind  enough  to  allow  us  to 
proceed,  and  as  we  lay  becalmed  for  two 
days,  the  bey  ordered  three  or  four  Turk- 
ish flags  to  be  hoisted,  and  a  flask  of  oil 
to  be  thrown  overboard.  On  inquiring 
into  the  purport  of  the  ceremony,  we  were 
informed  that  the  flask  would  float  to 
Mecca  (a  pretty  long  circumnavigation) 
and  bring  us  a  fair  wind  !  As  we  cast 
anchor  in  the  port  soon  after,  of  course 
the  ceremony  had  been  propitious ;  nor 
did  we  seek  to  disturb  the  credulity  of  a 
man  who  had  treated  us  so  kindly/' 

We  know,- however,  that  there  is  "  cre- 
dulity "  on  board  English  as  well  as  Turk- 
ish vessels ;  and  that  if  our  sailors  do  not 
send  an  oil  flask  to  Mecca,  they  whistle 
for  a  wind  in  a  perfect  calm,  and  many 
seem  as  certainly  to  expect  its  appearance, 
as  a  boatswain  calculates  on  the  appear- 
ance of  his  crew  when  he  pipes  all  hands. 
Navigation  in  the  Clouds. 

Agobard,  archbishop  of  Lyons,  in  the 
reign  of  Charlemagne,  and  his  son,  has 
the  following  passage  in  his  book,  "  De 
Grandine."  "  In  these  districts,  almost 
all  persons,  noble  and  plebeian,  towns- 
men and  rustics,  old  and  young,  believe 
that  hail  and  thunder  may  be  produced  at 
the  will  of  man,  that  is,  by  the  incanta- 
tions of  certain  men  who  are  Called  Tem- 
pestarii."  He  proceeds  :  "  We  have  seen 
and  heard  many  who  are  sunk  in  such 
folly  and  stupidity,  as  to  believe  and  as- 
sert, that  there  is  a  certain  country,  which 
they  call  Magonia,  whence  ships  come  in 
the  clouds,  for  the  purpose  of  carrying 
back  the  corn  which  is  beaten  off  by  the 
hail  and  storms,  and  which  those  aerial 
sailors  purchase  of  the  said  Tempestani." 
Agobard  afterwards  affirms,  that  he  him- 
self saw  in  a  certain  assembly  four  per- 
sons, three  men  and  a  woman,  exhibited 
bound,  as  if  they  had  fallen  from  these 
ships,  who  had  been  kept  for  some  days 
in  confinement,  and  were  now  brought 
out  to  be  stoned  in  his  presence ;  but  that 
he  rescued  them  from  the  popular  fury. 
He  further  says,  that  there  were  persons 
who  pretended  to  be  able  to  protect  the 
inhabitants  of  a  district  from  tempests,  and 
that  for  this  service  they  received  a  pay- 
ment in  corn  from  the  credulous  country- 
men, which  payment  was  called  canoni- 
cum.* 

*  Athenaeum. 


A  Shrovetide  Custom. 

It  will  appear  on  reading,  that  the 
annexed  letter  came  too  late  for  insertion 
under  Shrove  Tuesday. 

LUDLOW    ROPE    PULLING. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book 


Sir, 


Ludlotv,  Shrove  Tuesday, 
Feb.  7,  1826. 


Among  the  customs  peculiar  to  this 
town,  that  of  pulling  a  rope  is  not  the 
least  extraordinary.  On  Shrove  Tuesday 
the  corporation  provide  a  rope  three 
inches  in  thickness,  and  in  length  thirty- 
six  yards,  which  is  given  out  by  a  few  of 
the  members  at  one  of  the  windows  of 
the  Market-hall  at  four  o'clock ;  when  a 
large  body  of  the  inhabitants,  divided 
into  two  parties,  (the  one  contending  for 
Castle-street  and  Broad-street  Wards,  and 
the  other  for  Old-street  and  Corve-street 
Wards,)  commence  an  arduous  struggle; 
and  as  so\«n  as  either  party  gains  the  vic- 
tory by  pulling  the  rope  beyond  the  pre- 
scribed limits,  the  pulling  ceases  ;  which 
is,  however,  always  renewed  by  a  second, 
and  sometimes  by  a  third  contest ;  the 
rope  being  purchased  by  subscription 
from  the  victorious  party,  and  given  out 
again.  In  the  end  the  rope  is  sold  by 
the  victors,  and  the  money,  which  gene- 
rally amounts  to  two  pounds,  or  guineas, 
is  expended  in  liquor.  I  have  this  day 
been  an  eye-witness  to  this  scene  of  con- 
fusion ;  the  rope  was  first  gained  by  Old- 
street  and  Corve-street  Wards,  and  se- 
condly by  Castle-street  and  Broad-street 
Wards.  It  is  supposed,  that  nearly  2000 
persons  were  actively  employed  on  this 
occasion. 

Without  doubt  this  singular  custom  is 
symbolical  of  some  remarkable  event, 
and  a  remnant  of  that  ancient  language 
of  visible  signs,  which,  says  a  celebrated 
writer,  "  imperfectly  supplies  the  want  of 
letters,  to  perpetuate  the  remembrance  of 
public  or  private  transactions."  The 
sign,  in  this  instance,  has  survived  the 
remembrance  of  the  occurrence  it  was 
designed  to  represent,  and  remains  a 
profound  mystery.  It  has  been  insinua- 
ted, that  the  real  occasion  of  this  custom 
is  known  to  the  corporation,  but  that  for 
some  reason  or  other,  they  are  tenacious 
of  the  secret.  An  obscure  tradition  at- 
tributes this  custom  to  circumstances 
arising  out  of  the  siege  of  Ludlow  by 
Henry  VI ,  when  two  parties  arose  within 


257 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  26. 


258 


the  town,  one  supporting  the  pretensions 
of  the  duke  of  York,  and  the  other  wish- 
ing to  give  admittance  to  the  king ;  one 
of  the  bailiffs  is  said  to  have,  headed  the 
latter  party.  History  relates,  that  in  this 
contest  many  lives  were  lost,  and  that  the 
bailiff,  heading  his  party  in  an  attempt  to 
open  Dinham  gate,,  fell  a  victim  there. 

R.  J 


NATURALISTS*  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  41  •  16. 

jfdbruarp  26. 

1826. — Third  Sunday  in  Lent. 

Penderill  Family. 
1732,  February   26.    The  title  to  an 


estate  of  100/.  per  annum,  which  had  been 
settled  on  the  Penderill  family  "  for  pre- 
serving king  Charles  II.  in  the  oak,"  was 
sued  for  on  behalf  of  an  infant  claiming 
to  be  heir-at-law,  and  the  issue  was  this 
day  tried  in  the  court  of  king's  bench.  It 
was  proved  that  Mr.  Penderill,  after  mar- 
rying the  mother  of  the  claimant,  retired 
into  Staffordshire  two  years  before  he  died; 
that  during  that  time  he  had  no  inter- 
course with  his  wife,  and  that  the  infant 
was  born  about  the  time  of  her  husband's 
death.  In  consequence  of  this  evidence 
a  verdict  was  found  for  the  defendant, 
and  thereby  the  child  was  declared  to  be 
illegitimate.* 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


A  respected  correspondent,  S.  G.,  not 
remembering  to  have  met  with  a  represent- 
ation of  this  remarkable  seal  in  any  work, 
and  conceiving  its  appearance  in  the 
Every-Day  Book  may  gratify  many  rea- 
ders, obligingly  transmits  a  fine  impres- 
sion, taken  in  February,!  826,  from  whence 
the  present  engraving  has  been  made  with 
at  least  as  much  fidelity  as  the  antiquity 
of  the  original  permitted.  "  This  seal," 
he  says,  «•  is  quite  distinct  from  the  city 
seal.  It  is  kept  at  the  Mansion-house,  in 
the  custody  of  the  gate-porter,  and  is  now 

VOL.  II.— 61. 


used  for  the  purpose  of  authenticating  do- 
cuments forwarded  to  foreign  countries 
upon  affidavit  sworn  before  the  lord  mayor: 
it  is  also  used  for  sealing  the  precepts 
which  are  issued  preparatory  to  St. 
Thomas's-day  for  the 'election  of  common 
councilmen  arid  ward  officers."  The  fol- 
lowing is  the  inscriptioa  round  the  seal, 
"  Sigillum  Officii  Majoratus  Civitatis 
Londini :"  this  legend  is  indistinct  from 
wear. 

The  history  of  this  seal  is  especially  re- 
markable, because  it  is  connected  with  the 


259 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  26. 


260 


origin  of  the  "  dagger"  in  the  city  arms. 
On  this  subject  Maitland  and  other  his- 
torians have  taken  so  much  only  from 
Stow  as  seemed  to  them  to  suit  their  pur- 
pose ;  what  that  author  relates,  therefore, 
is  here  extracted  verbatim.  He  introduces 
it  by  saying,  "  In  the  year  1381,  William 
Walworth,  then  maior,  a  most  provident, 
valiant,  and  learned  citizen,  did  by  his  ar- 
rest of  Wat  Tyler,  (a  presumptuous  rebell 
upon  whom  no  man  durst  lay  hands,)  de- 
liver the  king  and  kingdome  from  the  dan- 
ger of  most  wicked  traitors,  and  was  for 
his  service  knighted  in  the  field  as  before 
hath  been  related."  In  opposition  to  a 
notion  which  prevailed  in  his  time,  and 
prevails  at  present,  that  the  "  dagger"  in 
the  civic  shield  was  an  augmentation  of 
the  city  arms  upon  occasion  of  Wai- 
worth's  prowess  in  Smithfield,  Stow  says, 
"  It  hath  also  been,  and  is  now  growne 
to  a  common  opinion,  that  in  reward  of 
this  service  done  by  the  said  William 
Walworth  against  the  rebell,  that  king 
Richard  added  to  the  armes  of  this  city 
(which  was  argent,  a  plaine  crosse  gules) 
a  sword,  or  dagger,  (for  so  they  terme  it,) 
whereof  I  have  read  no  such  record,  but 
to  the  contrary.  I  finde  that  in  the  fourth 
yeere  of  king  Richard  the  second,  in  a 
full  assembly  made  in  the  upper  chamber 
of  the  Guildhall,  summoned  by  this  Wil- 
liam Walworth,  then  maior,  as  well  of 
aldermen  as  of  the  common  councell  in 
every  ward,  for  certain  affaires  concern- 
ing the  king,  it  was  there  by  common 
consent  agreed  and  ordained,  that  the 
old  seale  of  the  office  of  the  maioralty  of 
the  city  being  very  small,  old,  unapt,  and 
uncomely  for  the  honour  of  the  city, 
should  be  broken,  and  one  other  new 
seale  bee  had ;  which  the  said  maior 
commanded  to  be  made  artificially,  and 
honourably,  for  the  exercise  of  the  said 
office  therafter,  in  place  of  the  other.  In 
which  new  seale,  besides  the  images  of 
Peter  and  Paul,  which  of  old  were  rudely 
engraven,  there  should  be  under  the  feet 
of  the  said  images  a  shield  of  the  arms  of 
the  said  city,  perfectly  graven,  with  two 
lyons  supporting  the  same,  and  two  ser- 
geants of  arms  :  in  the  other  part,  one, 
and  two  tabernacles,  in  which,  above, 
should  stand  two  angels,  between  whom 
(above  the  said  images  of  Peter  and  Paul) 
should  be  set  the  glorious  Virgin.  This 
being  done,  the  old  seale  of  the  office  was 
delivered  to  Richard  Odiham,  chamber- 
lain, who  brake  it,  and  in  place  thereof 
was  delivered  the  new  seale  to  the  said 


maior,  to  use  in  his  office  of  maioralty  as 
occasion  should  require.  This  new  seale 
seemeth  to  be  made  before  William  Wal- 
worth was  knighted,  for  he  is  not  there 
intituled  Sir,  as  afterwards  he  was  :  and 
certain  it  is,  that  the  same  new  seale  then 
made,  is  now  in  use,  and  none  other  in 
that  office  of  the  maioralty ;  which  may 
suffice  to  answer  the  former  fable,  with- 
out showing  of  any  evidence  sealed  with 
the  old  seale,  which  was  the  crosse,  and 
sword  of  Saint  Paul,  and  not  the  dago-er 
of  William  Walworth." 

On  a  partial  citation  of  the  preceding 
extract,  in  Maitland,  it  is  observed  by 
S.  G.,  that  "  the  seal  at  present  in  use  was 
made  in  pursuance  of  the  order  above 
cited,  may  be  deduced  from  the  seal 
itself.  In  the  centre,  within  a  large  and 
square  compartment,  are  the  effigies  of 
Peter  and  Paul.  The  former  has  a  mitre 
or  tiara  on  his  head,  and  is  attired  in  the 
pall  as  bishop  of  the  catholic  church,  and 
holds  a  crosier  in  his  left  hand.  The 
latter  saint  is  known  by  his  usual  attri- 
bute, the  sword,  which  he  sustains  in  his 
right  hand  :  above  each  of  these  saints  is 
a  rich  canopy.  Beneath  the  compartment 
just  described  is  a  shield,  bearing  the 
present  arms  of  the  city,  a  cross,  with  a 
dagger  in  the  dexter  quarter,  supported 
by  two  lions.  It  appears  to  have  been 
surmounted  with  a  low  pointed  arch. 
The  centre  compartment  is  flanked  by 
two  niches,  with  rich  canopies  and  plinths ; 
in  each  is  a  demi-figure  bearing  a  mace, 
and  having  on  its  head  a  triangular  cap  ; 
these  figures,  according  to  the  above  de- 
scription, are  intended  to  represent  two 
sergeants  at  arms.  The  canopies  to  these 
niches  terminate  in  angular  pedestals, 
sustaining  kneeling  statues  in  the  act  of 
paying  adoration  to  the  Virgin  Mary, 
whose  effigy,  though  much  effaced,  ap- 
pears in  the  centre  niche  at  the  top  of  the 
seal.  From  these  representations  on  the 
seal  before  us,  little  doubt  can  remain 
that  it  is  the  same  which  has.  been  in  use 
from  the  time  of  sir  William  Walworth 
to  rtie  present  day.  The  canopies  and 
stall  work  are  of  the  period  in  which  it  is 
supposed  to  have  been  made,  and  are  of 
similar  design  with  those  fine  specimens 
which  ornamented  the  late  front  of  West- 
minster-hall, and  the  screen  to  the  chapel 
of  Saint  Edward  the  Confessor  in  the 
abbey,  and  which  are  still  to  be  seen  in 
the  restored  portion  of  Westminster-hall, 
as  well  as  the  plaster  altar-screen  lately 
set  up  in  the  abbey  church." 


26i 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  26. 


262 


As  Wat  Tyler's  insurrection  was  in 
1381,  the  fourth  year  of  Richard  II., 
and  as  that  was  the  year  wherein  the 
old  mayoralty  seal  was  destroyed,  and 
the  present  seal  made,  our  obliging  cor- 
respondent, S.  G.,  deems  it  "a  very  rea- 
sonable opinion,  which  many  authors 
have  entertained  on  the  subject,  that  the 
dagger  in  the  city  arms  was  really  granted 
at  that  period,  in  commemoration  of 
Walworth  having  given  Tyler  the  blow 
with  that  instrument,  which  was  the  pre- 
lude to  his  death/'  He  says  it  is  also 
further  confirmed  by  the  act  of  the  as- 
sembly [the  common  council],  which 
Maitland  quotes  [after  Stow],  inasmuch 
as  one  reason  which  appears  to  have  been 
urged  by  them  for  destroying  the  old  seal 
was  on  account  of  the  same,  at  that  time, 
being  unbecoming  the  honour  of  the  city, 
which,  no  doubt,  referred  to  the  addi- 
tion of  the  dagger,  which  had  then  lately 
been  made  to  the  arms  :  and  it  likewise 
goes  on  further  to  state,  in  reference 
thereto,  "  that  beside  the  images  of 
Saint  Peter  and  Paul,  was  placed  the 
shield  of  the  arms  of  the  said  city  well 
engraved." 

Our  correspondent,  S.  G.,  will  not 
conceive  offence  at  a  notion  which  varies 
from  his  own  opinion ;  and  probably, 
on  reperusing  the  quotation  from  Stow 
and  the  following  remarks,  he  may  see 
some  reason  to  abate  his  present  persua- 
sion. 

As  a  reason  for  the  old  seal,  in  the 
fourth  year  of  Richard  II.,  having  been 
ordered  by  the  common  council  to  be 
broken,  Stow  says  it  was  "  very  small, 
old,  unapt,  and  uncomely  for  the  honour 
of  the  city."  His  description  seems  to 
set  forth  its  diminutive  size  and  age,  its 
"  being  very  small,  old,"  and  "  unapt," 
as  the  ground  whereon  they  deemed  it 
"  uncomely  for  the  honour  of  the  city," 
and  therefore  caused  the  old  seal  to  be 
destroyed,  and  a  new  one  to  be  made. 
So  far  this  appears  to  have  been  Stow's 
view  of  the  matter;  and  should  his  autho- 
rity be  regarded,  our  friend  S.  G,  may 
appear  to  have  too  hastily  assumed  that 
the  common  council  order  for  the  de- 
struction of  the  old  seal,  as  "  unbecoming 
the  honour  of  the  city,  no  doubt  referred 
to  the  addition  of  the  dagger  which  had 
then  lately  been  made  to  their  arms." 
Unless  Stow's  testimony  be  disputed,  it 
may  not  only  be  doubted,  but  positively 
denied,  that  the  dagger  "  had  then  lately 
added  to  the  city  arms."  Stow 


speaks  of  it  as  a  "  common  opinion," 
when  he  wrote,  that  upon  Walworth's 
striking  Wat  Tyler  with  his  dagger 
Richard  II.  therefore  "  added  a  sword,  or 
dagger,  for  so  they  terme  it,"  he  says,  to 
the  city  arms  ;  "  whereof,"  he  adds,  "  I 
have  read  no  such  record,  but  to  the  con- 
trary." Then  he  takes  pains  to  relate 
why  the  ancient  seal  was  destroyed,  and 
having  stated  the  reasons  already  cited, 
he  says,  li  this  new  seale,"  the  seal  now 
before  us,  "  seemeth  to  be  made  before 
William  Walworth  was  knighted,  for  he 
is  not  there  intituled  Sir,  as  he  afterwards 
was."  Afterwards  comes  Stow's  conclu- 
sion upon  the -whole  matter  :  "  Certaine  it 
is,"  he  says,  "  that  the  same  new  seale 
then  made,  is  now  in  use,  and  none  other 
in  that  office  of  the  maioralty  :  which,'' 
mark  his  words,  "  which  may  suffice  to 
answer  the  former  fable,  without  shewing 
of  any  evidence  sealed  with  the  old  seale, 
which  was  the  crosse,  and  sword  of  St. 
Paul,  and  not  the  dagger  of  William 
Walworth."  What  Stow  here  calls  the 
"  former  fable,"  was  the  "  common  opi- 
nion" stated  by  himself,  "  that  king 
Richard  added  to  the  arms  of  this  city 
(which  [in  the  notion  of  those  who  enter- 
tained the  opinion]  was  argent,  a  plain 
cross  gules)  a  sword,  or  dagger."  That 
the  city  arms  before  the  time  of  Richard 
II.  was  merely  "  argent  a  plain  cross 
gules,"  Stow  clearly  treats  as  a  vulgar 
assumption,  "  whereof,"  he  says,  "  I  have 
read  no  such  record,  but"  and  these  fol- 
lowing words  are  most  notable,  "  BUT  to 
the  contrary"  This,  his  declaration  "  to 
the  contrary'  being  followed  by  his  par- 
ticulars, just  laid  before  the  reader,  con- 
cerning the  present  seal.  Stow  says,  "  may 
suffice  to  answer  the  former  fable,  with- 
out showing  of  any  evidence  sealed  with 
the  old  seale:"  that  is,  without  showing 
or  producing  any  document  or  writing 
"  sealed  with  the  old  seale,  which,"  to 
clench  the  matter,  he  positively  affirms, 
"  was  the  crosse,  and  sword  of  St.  Paul, 
and  not  the  dagger  of  William  Wal- 
worth." 

The  cathedral  church  of  the  city  of 
London  is  dedicated  to  St.  Paul,  who 
suffered  martyrdom  by  the  sword,  and 
"  the  old  seale,"  related  by  Stow  to  have 
been  destroyed,  he  says,  "was  the  crosse, 
and  sword  of  St.  Paul."  It  therefore 
represented  the  present  shield  of  the  city 
arms,  which,  on  Stow's  showing,  existed 
before  the  time  of  Wat  Tyler's  insurrec- 
tion, and  are  therefore  "  the  crosse,  and 


263 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  26. 


264 


sword  of  St.  Paul,  and  not  the  dagger  of 
William  Walworth." 

To  the  communication  with  which  the 
liberty  of  differing  has  been  taken,  in 
furtherance  of  its  object  to  elucidate  the 
arms  of  the  metropolis,  our  respected 
correspondent  S.  G.  adds,  "  The  origin  of 
the  seal  may  no  doubt  be  traced  to  the 
source  from  whence  sir  Henry  Englefield, 
in  his  walk  through  Southampton,  derives 
the  seal  cf  the  city  of  Winchester  ;  in 
speaking  of  which  his  opinion  appears  to 
be,that  it  was  rirst  used  in  consequence  of  an 
act  passed  for  the  benefit  of  merchants,  in 
the  reign  of  Edward  I.,  which  was  after- 
wards greatly  extended  by  the  statute  of 
Staples,  passed  in  the  27th  year  of  the 
reign  of  Edward  III.,  whereby  it  was 
enacted  that  the  commerce  of  wool,  lea- 
ther, and  lead  should  be  carried  on  at 
certain  towns,  called  Staple  towns,  of 
which  several  are  not  seaports  —  but  to 
each  of  these  inland  Staples  a  port  is  as- 
signed for  entries.  It  was  also  further 
enacted,  that  in  each  Staple  there  should 
be  a  seal  kept  by  the  mayor  of  the  Sta- 


In  relation  to  this  seal,  Maitland  sadly 
blunders.  He  says,  «*  The  ancient  seal 
of  this  city  having  been  laid  aside  in  the 
fourth  of  Richard  II.,  the  present,  whereof 
the  annexed  is  a  representation,  was  made 
in  the  same  year,  1381."  Then  he  annexes 
his  "  representation,"  purporting  to  be  of 
this  seal,  which  Stow  so  accurately  de- 
scribes,, but,  strange  to  say,  he  substitutes 
the  •"  representation*'  of  a  seal  wholly 
different.  (See  his  History  of  London, 
edit  1772,  vol.  ii.  p.  1193.)  It  is  astonish- 
ing that  Maitland  should  have  so  erred, 
for  (in  vol.  i.  p.  138.)  he  describes  the  seal 
almost  in  Stow's  words,  and  sufficiently 
at  length  to  have  saved  him  from  the  pal- 
pable mistake. 


Sealing- 

Our  present  common  sealing-wax  for 
letters  was  not  invented  till  the  sixteenth 
century.The  earliest  letter  inEurope  known 
to  have  been  sealed  with  it,  was  written 
from  London,  August  3,  1554,  to  the 
-heingrave  Philip  Francis  von  Daun,  by 
hig  agent  in  England,  Gerrard  Herman. 
The  wax  is  of  a  dark  red,  very  shining, 
and  the  impression  bears  the  initials  of 
the  writer's  name,  G.  H.  The  next  seal 
known  in  th?  order  of  time  is  on  a  letter 


written  in  1561  to  the  council  of  Gorlitz 
at  Breslau :  it  is  sealed  in  three  places 
with  beautiful  red  wax.  There  are  two 
letters  in  1563  from  count  Louis  of  Nas- 
sau to  the  landgrave  William  IV. ;  one 
dated  March  3,  is  sealed  with  red  wax, 
the  other,  dated  November  7,  is  sealed 
with  black  wax.  In  1566  are  two  letters 
to  the  rheingrave  Frederick  von  Daun, 
from  his  steward  Charles  de  Pousol,  in 
Picardy,  dated  respectively  September 
the  2d,  and  September  the  7th  ;  another 
from  Pousol  to  the  rheingrave,  dated 
Paris,  January  22,  1567,  is  sealed  with 
red  wax  of  a  higher  colour  and  apparently 
of  a  coarser  quality.  On  the  15th  of  May, 
1571,  Vulcob,  a  French  nobleman,  who 
the  year  before  had  been  ambassador  from 
the  king  of  France  to  the  court  of  Wey- 
mar,  wrote  a  letter  to  that  court  sealed 
with  red  wax ;  he  sealed  nine  letters  of  a 
prior  date  with  common  wax.  From  an 
old  expense  book  of  1616,  in  the  records 
of  Piessingburg,  "  Spanish  wax,  "  and 
other  writing  materials,  were  ordered  from 
a  manufacturer  of  sealing-wax  at  Nurem- 
burg,  for  the  personal  use  of  Christian, 
margrave  of  Brandenburg. 

It  has  been  conjectured  that,  as  the 
oldest  seals  came  from  England  and 
France,  and  as  the  invention  is  called 
"  Spanish  wax,"  it  originated  with  the 
Spaniards ;  but  this  is  doubted.  The  first 
notice  of  sealing-wax  occurs  in  a  work  by 
Garcia  ab  Orto,  or  Horto,  entitled  "  Aro- 
matum  et  simplicium  aliquot  historia,  &c." 
first  printed  in  1563,  and  afterwards  at 
Antwerp  in  1574,  8vo.,  in  which  latter 
edition  it  is  mentioned  at  p.  33.  The 
oldest  printed  receipt  for  sealing-wax  is 
in  a  work  entitled  "  Neu  Titularbuch, 
&c.,  Durch  Samuelen  Zimmerman,  burger 
zu  Augspurg  1579,"  4to;  p.  112.  The  fol- 
lowing is  a 

Translation. 

"  To  make  hard  sealing-wax,  called 
Spanish  wax,  with  which  if  letters  be 
sealed  they  cannot  be  opened  without 
breaking  the  seal  — Take  beautiful  clear 
resin,  the  whitest  you  can  procure,  and 
melt  it  over  a  slow  charcoal  fire.  When 
it  is  properly  melted,  take  it  from  the  fire, 
and  for  every  pound  of  resin  add  two 
ounces  of  cinnabar  pounded  very  fine, 
stirring  it  about.  Then  let  the  whole  cool, 
or  pour  it  into  cold  water.  Thus  you  will 
have  beautiful  red  wax. 

"  If  you  are  desirous  of  having  black 
wax,  add  lamp  black  to  it.  With  smalt, 
or  azure,  you  may  make  it  blue ;  with 


265 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— FEBRUARY  26 


266 


white  lead,  white ;  and  with  orpiment, 
yellow. 

"  If  instead  of  resin  you  melt  purified 
turpentine,  in  a  glass  vessel,  and  give  it 
any  colour  you  choose,  you  will  have  a 
harder  kind  of  sealing-wax,  and  not  so 
orittle  as  the  former." 

In  these  receipts  there  is  uo  mention  of 
gum  lac,  which  is  at  present  the  princi- 
pal ingredient  in  sealing-wax  of  the  best 
quality.  The  name  "  Spanish  wax,"  pro- 
bably imports  no  more  than  "  Spanish 
flies,"  "  Spanish  gum,"  and  several  other 
"  Spanish'*  commodities ;  for  it  was  for- 
merly the  custom  to  give  all  new  things, 
particularly  those  which  excited  wonder, 
or  excelled  in  quality,  the  appellation  of 
"  Spanish/'* 

Dutch  sealing-wax,  or  wax  with  "  brand 
well  en  vast  houd,"  burn  well  and  hold 
fast,  impressed  on  each  stick,  was  former- 
ly in  great  repute;  but  the  legend  having 
been  constantly  forged  was  no  security 
against  imposition.  The  "  best  Dutch 
sealing-wax"  usually  sold  in  the  shops  of 
London,'  is  often  worse  than  that  which 
inferior  manufacturers  stamp  with  the 
names  of  many  stationers,  who  prefer  a 
large  profit  to  a  good  reputation.  It  is 
not  an  easy  matter,  in  1826,  to  get  a  stick 
of  sealing-wax  that  will  "  burn  well  and 
holdfast." 

Wafers. 

The  oldest  letter  yet  found  with  a  red 
wafer  was  written  in  1624,  from  D.  Krapf, 
at  Spires,  to  the  government  at  Bayreuth. 
Wafers  are  ascribed,  by  Labat,  to  Genoese 
economy.  In  the  whole  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  they  were  only  used  by 
private  persons ;  on  public  seals  they  com- 
mence only  in  the  eighteenth  century .f 

Writing  Ink. 

The  ancient  writing  ink  was  a  viscid 
mass  like  painter's  colours,  and  therefore 
letters  in  ancient  manuscript  frequently 
appear  in  relief.  J  Pliny's  writing  ink  is 
mentioned  by  Dr.  Bancroft,  according  to 
whom  it  consisted  of  the  simple  ingre- 
dients in  the  following  receipt.  "  Any 
person  who  will  take  the  trouble  of  mix- 
ing pure  lamp  black  with  water,  thickened 
a  little  by  gum,  may  obtain  an  ink  of  no 
despicable  quality  in  other  respects,  and 
with  the  advantage  of  being  much  less 
liable  to  decay  by  age,  than  the  ink  now 


*  Reckmann. 

t  Fosbrokc's  Diet,  of  Antiquities.     Fkckmann, 

t  Fosbroke's  Diet,  ol  Antii(uitif» 


in  common  use."  It  should  be  observed, 
however,  that  every  black  pigment  mixed 
with  gum  or  size  can  be  soon  and  easily 
washed  out  again  with  water. 


It  is  not  purposed  to  make  this  a  "  Re- 
ceipt Book, '  yet,  as  connected  with  this 
subject,  two  or  three  really  good  receipts 
may  be  of  essential  service,  at  some  time 
or  other,  to  many  readers.  For  instance, 
artists,  and  other  individuals  who  require 
it,  may  easily  manufacture  a  black  pig- 
ment in  the  following  manner,  with  a  cer- 
tainty of  its  being  genuine,  which  can 
scarcely  be  placed  in  the  article  sold  at 
most  shops » 

A  pure  Lamp  Black. 

Suspend  over  a  lamp  a  funnel  of  tin 

Elate,  having  above  it  a  pipe  to  convey 
•om  the  apartment  the  smoke  which  es- 
capes from  the  lamp.  Large  mushrooms 
of  a  very  black  carbonaceous  matter,  and 
exceedingly  light,  will  be  formed  at  the 
summit  of  the  cone.  This  carbonaceous 
part  is  carried  to  such  a  state  of  division 
as  cannot  be  given  to  any  other  matter 
by  grinding  it  on  a  piece  of  porphyry. 
This  black  goes  a  great  way  in  every  kind 
of  painting.  It  may  be  rendered  drier 
by  calcination  in  close  vessels ;  and  it 
should  be  observed  that  the  funnel  ought 
to  be  united  to  the  pipe,  which  conveys 
off  the  smoke,  by  means  of  wire,  because 
solder  would  be  melted  by  the  flame  of 
the  lamp.* 

Receipts  for  Ink. 

Chaptal  the  eminent  chemist,  after  nu- 
merous experiments  regarding  writing 
ink,  concludes,  that  the  best  ingredients 
and  proportions  are  the  following,  viz: 
two  parts  of  galls,  in  sorts,  bruised,  and 
one  part  of  logwood  chipped ;  these  are 
to  be  boiled  in  twenty-five  times  their 
weight  of  water  for  the  space  of  two 
hours,  adding  a  little  water  from  time  to 
time,  according  to  the  evaporation.  The 
decoction  so  made,  he  bays,  will  com- 
monly mark  from  3  to  3^  degrees  upon 
the  hydrometer  of  Beaume,  equal  to 
about  1022  of  the  common  standard. 
At  the  same  time  a  solution  of  gum  ara- 
bic  is  to  be  made  with  warm  water,  until 
the  latter  will  dissolve  no  more  of  the 
former.  This  solution  will  mark  14  or 
15  degrees,  equal  to  about  110.  A  solu- 
tion of  calcined  sulphate  of  iron  is  also 

*  Tingrj. 


067 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  26. 


268 


to  ba  made,  and  concentrated  so  that  it 
will  mark  10  degrees,  equal  to  about 
J071.  And  to  this  as  much  sulphate  of 
ropper  is  to  be  added  as  will  be  equal  to 
one-twelfth  part  of  the  galls  employed  to 
make  the  decoction.  The  several  matters 
being  so  prepared,  six  measures  of  the 
decoction  are  to  be  mixed  with  four 
measures  of  the  solution  of  gum;  and  to 
this  mixture  from  three  to  four  measures 
of  the  metallic  solution  are  to  be  added, 
by  a  little  at  a  time,  mixing  the  several 
matters  each  time  by  shaking.  Ink  so 
made,  will,  he  says,  form  no  sediment : 
and  he  estimates  the  proportions  of  solid 
matters  contained  in  it  to  be  five  hundred 
parts  of  gums,  four  hundred  and  sixty- 
two  parts  of  the  extract  of  galls  and  log- 
wood, and  four  hundred  and  eighty-one 
parts  of  metallic  oxides. 

Dr.  Bancroft,  who  gives  these  particu- 
lars from  Chaptal,  proposes  the  following, 
as  being  generally  the  most  suitable  pro- 
portions for  composing  the  best  and  most 
lasting  writing  ink,  viz  : 

Take  of  good  Aleppo  galls,  in  sorts, 
coarsely  powdered,  twelve  ounces,  and  of 
chipped  logwood  six  ounces;  boil  these 
in  five  quarts  of  soft  water  two  hours,  and 
strain  off  the  decoction  whilst  hot ;  then 
put  to  the  residuum  as  much  boiling 
water  as,  when  properly  stirred,  strained, 
and  added  to  the  former,  will  suffice  to 
make  the  whole  of  the  decoction  equal  to 
one  gallon ;  add  to  this  five  ounces  of 
sulphate  of  iron,  with  the  same  quantity 
of  gum  arabic,  and  two  ounces  of  good 
dry  muscovado  sugar ;  let  these  be  all 
dissolved,  and  well  mixed  by  stirring. 

A  calcination  of  the  sulphate  of  iron, 
which  Chaptal,  Proust,  and  some  others 
have  recommended,  Dr.  Bancroft  does 
not  regard  as  of  much  importance ;  for, 
he  says,  though  the  ink  may  be  thereby 
made  to  attain  its  utmost  degree  of  dark- 
ness, almost  immediately,  yet  the  strong 
disposition  which  ink  has  to  absorb  oxy- 
gen from  the  atmosphere  until  saturated 
therewith,  will  enable  it,  without  such 
calcination,  to  attain  an  equal  degree  of 
blackness,  in  a  day  or  two,  according  to 
the  temperature  of  the  air,  if  the  latter  be 
allowed  free  access  to  it.  For  reasons 
which  he  also  states,  he  omits  the  sulphate 
of  copper ;  though  he  observes  that,  if  any 
portion  of  that  metal  were  deemed  bene- 
ficial, he  should  prefer  verdigrise  to  the 
sulphate,  the  latter  containing  a  much 
larger  proportion  of  acid  than  even  the 
sulphate  of  iron,  and  being,  therefore, 


more  likely  to  render  the  ink  corrosive 
He  regards  gurn  as  highly  iiseful  to  retard 
the  separation  and  subsidence  of  iti 
black  part,  or  compound  of  colouring 
matter  and  iron,  previous  to  its  applica- 
tion to  paper,  as  well  as  to  hinder  it,  when 
used,  from  spreading  and  penetrating  too 
far. 

Indelible  Writing  Ink. 
M.  Chaptal  remarks,  that,  since  the 
oxygenated  muriatic  acid  had  been  found 
cap'able  of  discharging  the  colour  of  com- 
mon writing  ink,  both  from  parchment 
and  paper,without  injuring  their  texture,  it 
had  been  fraudulently  employed  to  efface 
particular  parts  or  words  of  deeds,  con- 
tracts, or  other  writings,  for  which  others 
had  been  substituted,  leaving  the  signa- 
tures untouched.  In  consequence  of 
these  frauds,  the  commercial  parts  of 
society,  as  well  as  governments,  were 
solicitous  for  the  discovery  of  some  com- 
position, which  might  be  employed  in- 
stead of  common  writing  ink,  without 
its  defects ;  therefore  Chaptal,  (being 
then  minister  of  the  interior  of  France, 
and  possessed  of  great  chemical  science,) 
as  might  be  expected,  occupied  him- 
self particularly  with  that  subject ;  and 
he  states,  that  up  to  the  then  present  time, 
the  composition  which  had  been  found 
most  useful  for  this  purpose,  consisted  of 
a  solution  of  glue  in  water,  with  which  a 
sufficient  portion  of  lamp  black  and  a 
little  sea  salt  were  intimately  mixed,  by 
rubbing  them  together  on  marble.  This 
composition  was  made  sufficiently  thin 
by  water,  to  flow  readily  from  the  pen ; 
and  he  describes  it  as  being  capable  of 
resisting  the  action,  not  merely  of  cold, 
but  of  boiling  water,  and  also  of  acids, 
alkalies,  and  spirit  of  wine  ;  and  attended 
with  no  inconvenience  but  that  of  abra- 
sion by  being  rubbed. 

It  is  observed  by  Dr.  Bancroft,  that 
v/hen  lamp  black  has  been  incorporated 
v/ith  common  ink,  by  first  rubbing  the 
former  in  a  mortar  with  a  mucilage  of 
gum  arabic,  the  writing  done  with  it 
could  not  be  rendered  invisible  by  the 
application  of  muriatic  acid ;  and,  doubt- 
less, such  an  addition  of  lamp  black  would 
hinder  the  letters  from  ever  becoming 
illegible  by  age,  at  least  within  any  length 
of  time  which  the  paper  and  parchment 
could  be  expected  to  last.  But  ink  made 
with  this  addition  would  require  to  be 
frequently  shaken  or  stirred,  as  the  lamp 


269 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  27. 


black  would  otherwise  be  apt  to  separate 
and  subside. 

In  the  making  of  indelible  ink,  the  re- 
ceipt for  lamp  black  before  given  may  be 
of  considerable  importance. 

Calico  Printing. 

Perhaps  no  object  has  more  engaged 
"  the  ingenious  chemist's  art"  than  this, 
and  leave  is  craved  to  conclude  this  diver- 
sion from  the  mayoralty  seal  of  London, 
by  what  may  be  serviceable  to  some  who 
are  actively  engaged  in  an  extensive  branch, 
from  whence  our  private  chambers,  and 
the  dresses  of  our  wives  and  daughters, 
derive  continual  improvement. 

Prosubstantive,    or   Chemical  Black,  for 

Calico  Printers. 

"  Some  years  ago,"  says  Dr.  Bancroft, 
"  I  purchased  of  a  calico  printer,  possess- 
ing great  knowledge  of  the  principles  arid 
practice  of  his  art,  the  secret  of  a  compo- 
sition which  he  had  employed  with  suc- 
cess, as  a  prosubstantive  black,  and  which, 
as  far  as  I  can  judge  from  experiments 
upon  a  small  scale,  deserved  the  high 
commendations  which  he  bestowed  upon 
it :  and  though  I  have  never  obtained  the 
smallest  pecuniary  advantage  from  this 
purchase,  in  any  way,  I  will  here  give 
the  full  benefit  of  it  to  the  public.  The 
following  was  his  recipe,  with  some  ab- 
breviations of  language  :  viz.  Take  two 
pounds  of  the  best  mixed  galls,  in  powder, 
and  boil  them  in  one  gallon  of  vinegar, 
until  their  soluble  part  is  extracted,  or 
dissolved ;  then  strain  off  the  clear  de- 
coction, and  add  to  the  residuum  of  the 
galls  as  much  water  as  will  be  equal  to 
the  vinegar  evaporated  in  boiling ;  stir 
them  a  little,  and  after  allowing  the  pow- 
dered galls  time  to  subside,  strain  off'  the 
clear  liquor,  and  mix  it  with  the  former 
decoction,  adding  to  the  mixture  six 
ounces  of  sulphate  of  iron  ;  and  this  being 
dissolved,  put  to  it  six  ounces  more  of 
sulphate  of  iron,  after  it  has  been  pre- 
viously mixed  with,  and  dissolved  by, 
half  of  its  weight  of  single  aquafortis ;  let 
this  be  stirred,  and  equally  dispersed 
through  the  mixture,  which  is  to  be  thick- 
ened by  dissolving  therein  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  gum  tragacanth,  (of  which  a 
very  small  proportion  will  suffice.)  Ca- 
lico, after  being  printed  or  pencilled  with 
this  mixture,  should,  when  the  latter  is 
sufficiently  dried,  be  washed  in  lime 
water,  to  remove  the  gum  and  superfluous 
colour,  and  then  either  streamed  or  well 
rinsed  in  clear  water.  This  composition 


270 

has  not  been  found  to  weaken,  or  injure, 
the  texture  of  calico  printed  or  pencilled 
with  it,  and  the  colour  is  thought  unob- 
jectionable in  regard  to  its  blackness  and 
durability." 

It  is  added  by  Dr.  Bancroft,  that 
"  when  sulphate  of  iron  is  mixed  with 
aquafortis,  the  latter  undergoes  a  decom- 
position ;  the  oxygen  of  the  nitric  acid 
combining  with  the  iron,  and  raising  it  to 
a  much  higher  degree  of  oxidation  ;  the 
result  of  these  operations  is  the  production 
of  a  fluid  which  has  the  consistence  and 
smooth  appearance  of  oil,  and  'which 
(though  the  name  may  not  be  quite  unex- 
ceptionable) I  will  call  a  nitre-  sulphate 
of  iron.  1  have  been  induced  to  believe, 
from  several  trials,  that  a  better  prosub- 
stantive black  than  any  other  within  my 
knowledge  may  be  formed,  by  taking  a 
decoction,  containing  in  each  gallon  the 
soluble  matter  of  two  pounds  of  the  best 
galls,  in  sorts,  and  when  cold,  adding  to 
it  for  each  gallon  twelve  ounces  of  sul- 
phate of  iron,  which  had  been  previously 
mixed  with  half  its  weight  of  single  aqua- 
fortis, (of  which  one  wine  pint  should 
weigh  about  twenty  ounces,)  and,  by  the 
decomposition  just  described,  converted 
to  the  nitro-sulphate  of  iron  just  mentioned. 
By  thus  employing  twelve  ounces  of  sul- 
phate of  iron,  oxygenated  by  nitric  acid, 
instead  of  six  ounces  of  the  latter,  with 
six  ounces  of  the  green  sulphate  in  its 
ordinary  state,  an  improvement  in  the 
colour  seems,  by  my  experiments,  to  have 
been  invariably  produced,  and  without 
any  corroding  or  hurtful  action  upon  the 
fibres  of  the  cotton." 
.  With  these  scientific  receipts  and  sug- 
gestions it  may  be  agreeable  to  close 
Matters  of  this  kind  have  not  been  before 
introduced,  nor  is  it  purposed  to  repeat 
them  ;  and  those  who  think  they  are  out 
of  place  at  present,  may  be  asked  to  re- 
collect whether  any  of  themselves  ever 
obtained  knowledge  of  any  kind  that,  at 
some  period  or  other,  did  not  corne 
into  use  ? 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  »  .  .  40  •  72. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

A  Scotch  newspaper  of  the  27th  of 
February,  1  753,  relates,  that  on  the  pre- 
ceding Wednesday  se'nnight,  the  river 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— FEBRUARY  28. 


272 


Tweed  was  dried  up  from  six  o'clock  in 
the  morning  to  six  in  the  evening,  the 
current  having  been  entirely  suspended. 
On  the  20th  of  February,  1748,  the  river 
Sark,  near  Philipston,  in  the  parish  of 
Kirk  Andrews  upon  Eske,  and  the  Lid- 
del,  near  Penton,  in  the  same  parish,were 
both  dry.  At  the  same  time  other  rivers 
also  lost  their  waters.  These  remarkable 
phenomena  are  naturally  accounted  for  in 
the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  1753," 
vol.  xxiii.  p.  156. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  41  •  39. 

jftbruarp  28. 

Dr.  Johnson. 

It  was  recorded  in  the  daily  journals, 
on  the  28th  of  February,  1755,  that 
"  the  university  of  Oxford,  in  full  convo- 
cation, unanimously  conferred  the  degree  of 
master  of  arts  on  the  learned  Mr.  Samuel 
Johnson,  author  of  the  New  English 
Dictionary."  Such  a  testimony  to  dis- 
tinguished merit,  from  a  learned  univer- 
sity, was,  perhaps,  such  a  reward  as  Dr. 
Johnson  appreciated  more  highly  than 
others  of  more  seeming  worth  ;  the  pub- 
licity given  to  it  at  the  time  is  evidence 
of  the  notoriety  he  had  attained  by  his 
literary  labours,  and  of  the  interest  taken 
in  his  fame  by  every  class  of  society.  He 
taught  and  admonished  all  ranks,  in  a 
style  that  charmed  by  its  luxuriant  ampli- 
fication of  simple  truths,  when  the  ma- 
jority of  people  refused  the  wholesome 
labour  of  reflection.  Johnson's  ethical 
writings  verify  the  remark  of  a  shrewd 
writer,  that  "  a  maxim  is  like  an  ingot  of 
gold,  which  you  may  draw  out  to  any 
length  you  please." 


Gin  Lane. 

The  "Historical  Chronicle"  of  the 
"  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  notices  that 
on  this  day,  in  the  year  1736,  a  proposal 
was  submitted  to  the  house  of  commons 
"  for  laying  such  a  duty  on  distilled  spi- 
rituous liquors  as  might  prevent  the  ill 
consequences  of  the*  poorer  sort  drinking 
them  to  excess,"  whereon  it  takes  occa- 
sion to  adduce  the  following  fact:  "  We 
have  observed  some  signs,  where  such 
liquors  are  retailed,  with  the  following 
inscriptions,  Drunk  for  a  penny,  dead 
drunk  for  twopence,  clean  straw  for 
nothing."  This  record  establishes  the 
reality  of  the  inscription  in  Hogarth's 
fearful  print  of  "  Gin-lane,"  and  marks 
a  trait  in  the  manners  of  that  period, 
which,  to  the  credit  of  the  industrious 
classes  of  society,  has  greatly  abated. 

Drunkenness  exists  nowhere  but  in  the 
vicious  or  the  irresolute.  "  Give  a  poor 
man  work  and  you  will  make  him  rich." 
Give  a  drunkard  work  and  he  will  only 
keep  sober  till  he  has  earned  enough  to 
drink  again  and  get  poor.  While  he  is 
drinking  he  robs  himself  of  his  time ; 
drinking  robs  him  of  his  understanding 
and  health ;  when  he  is  unfit  or  disin- 
clined to  work  he  will  lie  to  avoid  it ;  and 
if  he  succeeds  in  deceiving,  he  will  pro- 
bably turn  thief.  Thus  a  drunkard  is  not 
to  be  relied  on  either  for  true  speaking, 
or  honest  principle ;  and  therefore  those 
who  see  that  drinking  leads  to  falsehood 
and  dishonesty,  never  attach  credit  to 
what  a  drunkard  says,  nor  trust  him  within 
reach  of  their  property. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .    40  •  44 


273 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— -MARCH. 


274 


MARCH. 

Now  husbandman  and  hinds  in  March  preparo, 
And  order  take,  against  the  teeming  year, 
Survey  their  lands,  and  keep  a  good  look  out 
To  get  their  fields  and  farms  well  fenc'd  about. 
Now  careful  gard'ners,  during  sunny  days, 
Admit  to  greenhouses  the  genial  rays  : 
Vines,  espaliers,  and  standard  trees  demand 
The  pruner's  skilful  eye,  and  ready  hand  ; 
And  num'rous  shoots  and  roots  court  the  i  i  d  toil 
Of  transplantation,  or  another  soil. 


In  the  "  Mirror  of  the  Months"  it  is 
observed,  that  at  this  season  a  strange  com- 
motion may  be  seen  and  heard  among  the 
winded  creatures,  portending  momentous 
matters.  The  lark  is  high  up  in  the  cold 
air  before  daylight,  and  his  chosen  mis- 


tress is  listening  to  him  down  among  the 
dank  grass,  with  the  dew  still  upon  her 
unshaken  wing.  The  robin,  too,  has  left 
off,  for  a  brief  season,  his  low  plaintive 
piping,  which  it  must  b  confessed  was 
poured  forth  for  his!  own  exclusive  satis- 


•275 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH, 


276 


faction,  and,  reckoning  on  his  spruce 
looks  and  sparkling  eyes,  issues  his  quick 
peremptory  love-call,  in  a  somewhat  un- 
gallant  and  husband-like  manner. 

The  sparrows,  who  have  lately  been 
sulking  silently  about  from  tree  to  tree, 
with  ruffled  plumes  and  drooping  wings, 
now  spruce  themselves  up  till  they  do  not 
look  half  their  former  size  ;  and  if  it  were 
not  pairing-time,  one  might  fancy  that 
there  was  more  of  war  than  of  love  in 
their  noisy  squabblings. 

Now,  also,  the  ants  first  begin  to  show 
themselves  from  their  subterranean 
sleeping-rooms  ;  those  winged  abortions, 
the  bats,  perplex  the  eyes  of  evening 
wanderers  by  their  seeming  ubiquity; 
and  the  owls  hold  scientific  converse  with 
each  other  at  half  a  mile  distance. 

Now,  quitting  the  country  till  next 
month,  we  find  London  all  alive,  Lent 
and  Lady-day  notwithstanding;  for  the 
latter  is  but  a  day  after  all ;  and  he  must 
have  a  very  countrified  conscience  who 
cannot  satisfy  it  as  to  the  former,  by  doing 
penance  once  or  twice  at  an  oratorio,  and 
hearing  comic  songs  sung  in  a  foreign 
tongue ;  or,  if  this  does  not  do,  he  may 
fast  if  he  please,  every  Friday,  by  eating 
salt  fish  in  addition  to  the  rest  of  his  fare. 


During  this  month  some  birds  that  took 
refuge  in  our  temperate  climate,  from  the 
rigour  of  the  arctic  winters,  now  begin  to 
leave  us,  and  return  to  the  countries 
where  they  were  bred ;  the  redwing-thrush, 
fieldfare,  and  woodcock,  are  of  this  kind, 
and  they  retire  to  spend  their  summer  in 
Norway,  Sweden,  and  other  northern  re- 


gions. The  reason  why  these  birds  quit 
the  north  of  Europe  in  winter  is  evidently 
to  escape  the  severity  of  the  frost ;  but 
why  at  the  approach  of  spring  they  should 
return  to  their  former  haunts  is  not  so 
easily  accounted  for.  It  cannot  be  want 
of  food,  for  if  during  the  winter  in  this 
country  they  are  able  to  subsist,  they  may 
fare  plentifully  through  the  rest  of  the 
year ;  neither  can  their  migration  be  caused 
by  an  impatience  of  warmth,  for  the  sea- 
son when  they  quit  this  country  is  by  no 
means  so  hot  as  the  Lapland  summers ; 
and  in  fact,  from  a  few  stragglers  or 
wounded  birds  annually  breeding  here, 
it  is  evident  that  there  is  nothing  in  our 
climate  or  soil  which  should  hinder  them 
from  making  this  country  their  perma- 
nent residence,  as  the  thrush,  blackbird, 
and  other  of  their  congeners,  actually  do. 
The  crane,  the  stork,  and  other  birds, 
which  used  formerly  to  be  natives  of  our 
island,  have  quitted  it  as  cultivation  and 
population  have  extended ;  it  is  probable, 
also,  that  the  same  reason  forbids  the 
fieldfare  and  redwing-thrush,  which  are 
of  a  timorous,  retired  disposition,  to  make 
choice  of  England  as  a  place  of  sufficient 
security  to  breed  in.* 

In  this  month  commences  the  yeaning 
season  of  those  gentle  animals  whose 
clothing  yields  us  our  own,  and  engages 
in  its  manufacture  a  large  portion  of  hu- 
man industry  and  ingenuity.  The  poet  of 
"  The  Fleece"  beautifully  describes  and 
admonishes  the  shepherd  of  the  accidents 
to  which  these  emblems  of  peace  and 
innocence  are  exposed,  when  "  abroad  in 
the  meadows  beside  of  their  dams." 


Spread  around  thy  tend'rest  diligence 
In  flow'ry  spring-time,  when  the  new-dropt  lamb, 
Tott'ring  with  weakness  by  his  mother's  side, 
Feels  the  fresh  world  about  him  ;  and  each  thorn, 
Hillock,  or  furrow,  trips  his  feeble  feet : 
O,  guard  his  meek  sweet  innocence  from  all 
Th'  innumerous  ills,  that  rush  around  his  life  : 
Mark  the  quick  kite,  with  beak  and  ta-lons  prone, 
Circling  the  skies  to  snatch  him  from  the  plain ; 
Observe  the  lurking  crows  ;  beware  the  brake, 
There  the  sly  fox  the  careless  minute  waits  ; 
Nor  trust  thy  neighbour's  dog,  nor  earth,  nor  sky  ; 
Thy  bosom  to  a  thousand  cares  divide. 
Eurus  oft  slings  his  hail ;  the  tardy  fields 
Pay  not  their  promis'd  food  ;  and  oft  the  dam 
O'er  her  weak  twins  with  empty  udder  mourns, 


*  Aikin'sYear. 


277 


THE  EVFRY-DAY  BOOK.— MARC II  1,2. 


Or  fails  to  guard,  when  the  bold  bird  of  prey 
Alights,  and  hops  in  many  turns  around, 
And  tires  her  also  turning :  to  her  aid 
Be  nimble,  and  the  weakest,  in  thine  arms, 
Gently  convey  to  the  warm  cote,  and  oft, 
Between  the  lark's  note  and  the  nightingale's, 
His  hungry  bleating  still  with  tepid  milk ; 
In  this  soft  office  may  thy  children  join, 
And  charitable  habits  learn  in  sport : 
Nor  yield  him  to  himself,  ere  vernal  airs 
Sprinkle  thy  little  croft  with  daisy  flowers. 


Dyer, 


l. 

St.  David's  Day. 

To  the  particulars  connected  with  this 
anniversary,  related  in  vol.  i.  p.  317-322, 
may  be  added  that  Coles,  in  his  "  Adam 
in  Eden,"  says,  concerning  leeks,  "  The 
gentlemen  in  Wales  have  them  in  great 
regard,  both  for  their  feeding,  and  to 
wear  in  their  hats  upon  St.  David's  day." 

It  is  affirmed  in  the  "  Royal  Apoph- 
thegms" of  James  I.,  that "  the  Welchmen 
in  commemoration  of  the  Great  Fight  by 
the  Black  Prince  of  Wales,  do  wear  Leeks 
as  their  chosen  ensign." 

Mr.  Brand  received  through  the  late 
Mr.  Jones,  Welsh  bard  to  the  king,  as 
prince  of  Wales,  a  transcript  of  the  fol- 
lowing lines  from  a  MS.  in  the  British 
Museum. 

I  like  the  leeke  above  all  herbes  and  flowers. 
When  first  we  wore  the  same  the  feild  was 

ours. 
The  leeke   is  white  and   greene,   wherby  is 

ment 

That  Britaines  are  both  stout  and  eminent ; 
Next  to  the  lion  and  the  unicorn, 
The  leeke's  the  fairest  emblyn  that  is  worne. 
Harl.  MS.  1977. 

The  bishop's  "  Last  Good  Night,"  a 
single  sheet  satire,  dated  1642,  has  a 
stanza  which  runs  thus  : — 

"  Landaff,  provide  for  St.  David's  day, 
Lest  the  leeke,  and  red-herring  run  away : 
Are  you  resolved  to  go  or  stay  ? 

You  are  called  for,  Landaff: 

Come  in,  Landaff." 

There  is  the  following  proverb  on  this 
day:— 

*'  Upon  St.  David's  day,  put  oats  and  barley 
in  the  clay."  Ray. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  42  •  27 


Strange  Narrative. 

A  rare  quarto  tract  alleges  some  extra- 
ordinary appearances  in  Ireland  on  this 
day  in  the  year  1679.  It  is  here  reprinted 
verbatim,  beginning  with  the  title-page  : 
viz. 

A  TRUE  ACCOUNT  of  divers  most 
strange  and  prodigious  APPARITIONS 
seen  in  the  Air  at  Poins-town,  in  the 
county  of  Tipperary,  in  Ireland  :  March 
the  second,  1 678-9.  Attested  by  Sixteen 
Persons  that  were  Eye-witnesses.  Pub- 
lished at  Dublin,  and  thence  communi- 
cated hither.  Licensed,  1679.  London: 
printed  for  L.  C.,  1 679. 

Upon  the  second  day  of  this  present 
month,  being  Sunday  in  the  evening,  near 
sun-set,  several  gentlemen  and  others, 
hereinafter  named,  walked  forth  into  the 
fields,  and  the  sun  going  down  behind  a 
hill,  and  appearing  somewhat  bigger  than 
ordinary,  they  discourst  about  it,  direct- 
ing their  eyes  towards  the  place  where  the 
sun  set. 

When  one  of  the  company  observed  in 
the  air,  near  the  place  where  the  sun  went 
down,  an  arm  of  a  blackish  blew  colour, 
with  a  ruddy  complexioned  hand  at  one 
end  and  at  the  other  end  a  cross  piece, 
with  a  ring  fastned  to  the  middle  of  it, 
like  one  end  of  an  anchor,  which  stood 
still  a  while,  and  then  made  northwards, 
and  so  disappeared;  while  they  were 
startled  at  the  sight  which  they  all  ?a*/v, 
and  wondred  what  it  should  be  and  mean, 
there  appeared  at  a  great  distance  in  the 
air,  from  the  same  part  of  the  sky,  some- 
thing like  a  ship  coming  towards  them ; 
and  so  near  to  them  it  came,  that  they 
could  distinctly  perceive  the  masts,  sails, 
tacklings,  and  men  ;  she  then  seemed  to 
tack  about,  and  sailed  with  the  stern  fore- 
most, northwards,  upon  a  dark,  smooth 
sea,  (not  ?ppn  before,)  which  stretched 


279 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  2. 


280 


itself  from  south-west  to  the  north-west ; 
having  seemed  thus  to  sail  for  some  few 
minutes,  she  sunk  by  degrees  into  the  sea, 
her  stern  first,  and  as  she  sunk,  they  per- 
ceived her  men  plainly  running  up  the 
tackling,  in  the  fore-part  of  the  ship,  as  it 
were,  to  save  themselves  from  drowning. 
The  ship  disappearing,  they  all  sate 
down  on  a  green  bank,  talking  of,  and 
wondring  at  what  they  had  seen,  for  a 
small  space,  and  then  appeared  (as  that 
ship  had  done)  a  fort,  or  high  place  strong- 
ly fortifyed,  with  somewhat  like  a  castle  on 
the  top  of  it :  out  of  the  sides  of  which, 
by  reason  of  some  clouds  of  smoake,  and 
a  flash  of  fire  suddenly  issuing  out,  they 
concluded  some  shot  to  be  made.  The 
fort  then  immediately  was  divided  into 
two  parts,  which  were  in  an  instant  trans- 
formed into  two  exact  ships,  like  the  other 
they  had  seen,  with  their  heads  towards 
each  other.  That  towards  the  south, 
seemed  to  chase  the  other  with  its  stern 
foremost,  northwards,  till  it  sunk  with  its 
stern  first,  as  the  first  ship  had  done.  The 
other  ship  sayled  sometime  after,  and  then 
sunk  with  its  head  first.  It  was  observed, 
that  men  were  running  upon  the  decks  in 
these  two  ships,  but  they  did  not  see  them 
climb  up,  as  in  the  last  ship,  excepting  one 
man,  whom  they  saw  distinctly  to  get  up 
with  much  haste  upon  the  very  top  of  the 
bowsprit  of  the  second  ship,  as  they  were 
sinking.  They  supposed  the  two  last 
ships  were  engaged  and  fighting,  for  they 
saw  like  bullets  rouling  upon  the  sea, 
while  they  were  both  visible. 

The  ships  being  gone,  the  company 
rose,  and  were  about  to  go  away,  when 
one  of  them  perswaded  the  rest  to  stay, 
and  said,  he  saw  some  little  black  thing 
coming  towards  them,  which  he  believed 
would  be  worth  their  observation,  then 
some  of  the  rest  observed  the  same ; 
whereupon,  they  sate  down  again,  and 
presently  there  appeared  a  chariot,  some- 
what like  that  which  Neptune  is  repre- 
sented riding  in,  drawn  with  two  horses, 
which  turned  as  the  ships  had  done,  north- 
ward. And  immediately  after  it,  came  a 
strange  frightful  creature,  which  they  con- 
cluded to  be  some  kind  of  serpent,  hav- 
ing an  head  like  a  snake,  and  a  knotted 
bunch  or  bulk  at  the  other  end,  something 
resembling  a  snail's  house. 

This  monster  came  suddenly  behind 
the  chariot,  and  gave  it  a  sudden  violent 
blow,  then  out  of  the  chariot  straight 
leaped  a  bull  and  a  dog,  which  following 
him  seemed  to  bait  him  :  these  also  went 


northward,  as  the  former  phenomena  had 
done,  the  bull  first  holding  his  head  down- 
ward, then  the  dog,  and  then  the  chariot, 
till  they  all  sunk  down  one  after  another, 
about  the  same  place,  and  just  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  former. 

These  last  meteors  being  vanished,  there 
were  several  appearances  like  ships,  and 
other  things,  in  the  same  place,  and  after 
that  like  order  with  the  former ;  but  the 
relators  were  so  surprised  and  pleased 
with  what  they  had  seen,  especially  with 
the  bull  and  dog,  that  they  did  not  much 
observe  them  ;  and  besides,  they  were  not 
so  visible  as  the  rest,  the  night  drawing 
on  so  fast,  that  they  could  not  well  dis- 
cern them. 

The  whole  time  of  the  vision  or  repre- 
sentation lasted  near  an  hour,  and  it  was 
observable,  that  it  was  a  very  clear  and  a 
very  calm  evening,  no  cloud  seen,  no  mist, 
nor  any  wind  stirring.  All  the  pheno- 
mena came  out  of  the  west,  or  south-west. 
They  seemed  very  small,  and  afar  off,  and 
at  first  seemed  like  birds  at  a  good  dis- 
tance, and  then  being  come  to  the  place, 
where  there  was  the  appearance  of  a  sea, 
they  were  discerned  plainly  in  their  just 
proportion.  They  all  moved  northwards, 
the  ships,  as  appeared  by  their  sails,  went 
against  the  wind  ;  they  all  sunk  out  of 
sight,  much  about  the  same  place.  When 
they  disappeared,  they  did  not  dilate 
themselves,  and  become  invisible  as  clouds 
do,  but  every  the  least  part  of  them,  was 
as  distinctly  seen  at  the  last,  as  they  had 
been  all  along.  The  height  of  the  scene 
on  which  these  meteors  moved,  was  about 
as  much  above  the  horizon,  as  the  sun  is 
being  half  an  hour  high.  Of  the  whole 
company,  there  was  not  any  one  but  saw 
all  those  things,  as  above  written ;  all 
agreed  in  their  notions  and  opinions  about 
them,  and  were  all  the  while  busie  talking 
concerning  what  they  saw,  either  much 
troubled,  or  much  pleased,  according  to 
the  nature  of  the  appearance. 

The  names  of  the  persons  who  saw  the 
foregoing  passage : 

Mr.Allye,  a  minister,  living  near  the  place. 
Lieutenant  Dunstervile  and  his  son. 
Mr.  Grace,  his  son-in-law. 
Lieutenant  Dwine,         1  Scholars  and 
Mr.  Dwine,  his  brother,  I    Travellers. 
Mr.  Christopher  Hewelson. 
Mr.  Richard  Foster. 
Mr.  Adam  Hewelson. 
Mr.  Bates,  a  schoolmaster 
Mr.  Larkin. 


E  EVKHY-DAY    BOOK.— M  AK(J  li   3. 


282 


Mrs.  Dunstervile, 

her  daughter-in-law, 

her  maiden-daughter. 
Mr.  Dwine's  daughter. 
Mrs.  Grace,  hei  daughter. 

This  account  was  given  by  Mr.  C. 
Hewelson  and  Mr.  R.  Foster,  two  of  the 
beforenamed  spectators  :  and  when  it  was 
related,  a  servant  of  Mr.  C.  H.,  being 
present,  did  confirm  the  truth  of  it ;  af- 
firming, that  ho  and  others  of  the  servants 
being  then  tog<  ther  at  Poins-town,  in  ano- 
ther place,  saw  the  very  same  sights,  and 
did  very  much  wonder' at  them.  Finis. 


This  wonderful  wonder   is  worthy  of 
preservation,   for   the   very    reason    thai 
renders  it  scarcely  worthy  of  remark.     It 
was  a  practice,  before  the  period  when 
the  preceding  tract  was  printed,  for  par- 
tisans  to  fabricate  and    publish  strange 
narratives  in  behalf  of  the  side  they  pre- 
tended to  aid,  with   the   further   view  of 
blackening  or  injuring  those  whom   they 
opposed.    Such  stories  were  winked  at 
as  "  pious  frauds,"  and   found  ready  sale 
among  the  vulgar.     As  parties  declined, 
the  business  of  the  writers  and  venders 
of  such  productions  declined,  and  some 
among  them  of  desperate  fortune  resorted 
to  similar  manufactures  on  any  subject 
likely  to  astonish  the  uninformed.     The 
present  "True  Account"  may  be  regard- 
ed as  a  curious  specimen  of  this  kind  of 
forgery.     The  pamphlet   was  printed  in 
London ;  the  scene  being  laid  in  Ireland, 
it   probably    never  reached    Poins-town, 
and  if    it   even    travelled    thither,     the 
chance  is  that  there  were  only  a  few  who 
could  read  it,  and  certainly  none  of  those 
few  were  interested    in  its  contradiction. 
At   the   present  time   it  is   common  in 
Somersetshire    to   hear   a   street-hawker 
crying,  "  A    wonderful     account   of  an 
apparition    that   appeared  in    Hertford- 
shire," and  selling  his  papers  to  an  admir- 
ing crowd  ;  the  same  fellow  travelling  into 
Hertfordshire,  there  cries  the  very  same 
"  Apparition  that  appeared  in  Somerset- 
shire ;"  and  his  printed  account  equally 
well  authenticates  it  to  a  similarly  consti- 
tuted audience. 


NATURALISTS7    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  42  *  80. 


3. 


St.  Winwaloe. 

This  saint  is  called  Winwaloc,  by  fa- 
ther Cressy,  and  Winwaloke  by  father 
Porter. 

St.  Winwaloe's  father,  named  Fragan, 
or  Fracan,  was  nearly  related  to  Cathoun, 
one  of  the  kings  or  princes  of  Wales.  In 
consequence  of  Saxon  invasions,  Fragan 
emigrated  from  Wales  to  Armorica,  where 
the  spot  he  inhabited  is  "  called  from  him 
to  this  day  Plou-fragan."  Whether  Win- 
waloe  was  born  there  or  in  Wales  is 
uncertain  ;  but  he  was  put  under  St.  Bu- 
doc,  a  British  abbot  of  a  monastery  in 
Isleverte,  near  the  isle  of  Brebat,  from 
whence  with  other  monks  he  travelled,  till 
they  built  themselves  a  monastery  at 
Landevenech,  three  leagues  from  Brest. 

He  died  in  529,  at  an  advanced  age.  * 

Father  Cressy  says,  that  St.  Winwaloe 
worked  many  miracles  ;  "  among  which 
the  most  stupendous  was  his  raising  a 
young  man  to  life."    He  further  tells,  that 
"  St.  Patrick  presented  himself  to  him  in 
a  vision,   with   an   angelicall   brightnes, 
and  having  a  golden  diadem  on  his  head," 
and  told  him  he  paid  him  a  visit,  to  pre- 
vent Winwaloe,  who  desired  to  see  him, 
"  so  tedious  a  journey  by  sea  and  land." 
St.  Patrick  in  this  interview  foretold  St. 
Winwaloe  so  much,  that  the  father  of  his 
monastery  released   him  with  the  other 
monks  before-mentioned,  that  they  might 
become  hermits  ;  for  which  purpose  they 
travelled,  till,  wanting  a   ship,  St.  Win- 
waloe struck  the  sea  with  his  staff,  which 
opened  a  passage   for   them,   and   they 
walked   through   singing,    and   dryshod, 
"  himself  marching  in  the  front,  the  wa- 
ters on  both  sides  standing  like  walls." 
Father   Cressy   says,  that  St.  Winwaloe 
never  sat  in  the  church  ;  that  "  every  day 
he  repeated  the  hundred  and  fifty  psalms  ;" 
that  to  his  bed  he  had  neither  feathers  nor 
clothes,  "but  instead  of  feathers  he  strewed 
under    him    nutshells,    and    instead    of 
blankets,  sand  mingled  with  pebbles,  and 
two  great  stones  under  his  head  ;"  that 
he  wore  the  same  clothes  night  and  day  ; 
that  his  bread   was  made   with  half  of 
barley  and  half  of  ashes  ;  that  his  other 
diet  was  a  mixture  of  meal  and  cabbage 
without  fat  ;  and  that  "  he  took  this  refec- 
tion once,  only  in  two,  and  sometimes 
three  dayes." 


*  Butler. 


283 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  3. 


284 


Besides  other  particulars,  Cressy  adds, 
that  "  a  town  in  Shropshire,  called  even 
in  the  Saxons'  time  Wenlock,  (which 
seems  a  contraction  fromWinwaloc,)  from 
him  took  its  denomination." 

He  vanquisheth  the  Devil,  fyc. 

So  father  Porter  entitles  one  of  his  par- 
ticulars concerning  St.  Winwaloe,  which 
he  relates  in  his  "  Flowers  of  the  Saincts" 
in  these  words  :  "  The  devill  envying  soe 
great  sanctitie,  endeavoured  with  his 
hellish  plotts  to  trouble  and  molest  his 
pious  labours,  appeared  unto  him  as  he 
prayed  in  his  oratorie,  in  the  most  uglie 
and  horrid  shapes  that  the  master  of  wick- 
ednes  could  invent,  vomitting  out  of  his 
infernall  throate  manie  reprochfull  wordes 
against  him  ;  when  he  nothing  dismayed 
thereat,  courageously  proceeded  in  his 
devotions,  and  brandishing  the  chief 
armes  of  life,  the  holy  crosse,  against  that 
black  messenger  of  death,  he  compelled 
him  to  vanish  away  in  confusion." 

St  Winwaloe  and  the  cruel  Goose. 

Bishop  Patrick,  in  his  "  Reflexions  upon 
the  Devotions  of  the  Roman  Church/7 
cites  from  the  latin  "Acts  of  the  Saints," 
a  miracle  which  is  quite  as  miraculous 
as  either  of  the  preceding.  "  A  sister  of 
St.  Winwaloe  had  her  eye  plucked  out  by 
a  goose,  as  she  was  playing.  StWinwaloc 
was  taught  by  an  angel  a  sign  whereby  to 
know  that  goose  from  the  rest,  and  having 
cut  it  open,  found  the  eye  in  its  entrails, 
preserved  by  the  power  of  God  unhurt, 
and  shining  like  a  gem ;  which  he  took 
and  put  it  again  in  its  proper  place,  and 
recovered  his  sister  ;  and  was  so  kind  also 
to  the  goose  as  to  send  it  away  alive,  after 
it  had  been  cut  up,  to  the  rest  of  the 
flock." 


WINNOLD    FAIR,   NORFOLK. 

A  correspondent,  whose  signature  has 
before  appeared,  transmits  the  annexed 
communication  concerning  the  hamlet  of 
Winnold,  and  the  fair  held  there  annually 
on  this  day. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
A  priory,  dedicated  to  St.  Winwaloe, 
was  founded  by  the  family  of  the  earls  of 
Clare,  before  the  seventh  year  of  king  John, 
(1206,)  in  a  hamlet,  (thence  calfed,  by 
corruption,  the  hamlet  of  Whinwall,  Win- 
noldt  or  ffynhold,)  belonging  to  the  parish 
of  Wereham,  in  Norfolk,  as  a  cell  to  the 


abbey  of  Mounstroll,  of  the  order  of  St. 
Bennet,  in  the  diocese  of  Amiens,  in 
France.  In  1321,  the  abbot  and  convent 
sold  it  to  Hugh  Scarlet,  of  London,  who 
conveyed  it  to  the  lady  Elizabeth  de 
Burso,  the  sister  and  coheir  of  Gilbert, 
earl  of  Clare,  and  she  afterwards  gave  it 
to  West  Dereham  abbey,  situate  a  few 
miles  from  Wereham.  At  the  general  dis- 
solution it  was  valued,  with  West  Dere- 
ham, at252/.  12*.  lid.  (Speed,)  and  228J. 
(Dugdale.)  Little  of  the  priory  is  now 
remaining,  except  a  part  which  is  thought 
to  have  been  the  chapel. 

A  fair  for  horses  and  cattle  on  this  day, 
which  was  originally  kept  in  this  hamlet 
of  ffinnold,  has  existed  probably  from 
the  foundation  of  the  priory,  as  it  is  men- 
tioned in  the  tenth  of  Edward  III.  (1337,) 
when  the  priory  and  the  fair  were  given 
to  West  Dereham  abbey.  Though  the 
abbey  and  priory,  as  establishments,  are 
annihilated,  the  fair  (probably  from  its 
utility)  has  continued  with  reputation  to 
the  present  day.  Soon  after  the  dissolu- 
tion, it  was  removed  to  the  adjoining  parish 
of  Wimbotsham,and  continued  to  be  held 
there  till  within  the  last  thirty  years,  when 
it  was  again  removed  a  few  miles  further, 
to  the  market  town  of  Downham,  as  a 
more  convenient  spot,  and  is  now  kept  in 
a  field  there,  called,  for  reasons  unknown, 
"  the  Howdell,"  and  is  at  this  time  a  very- 
large  horse  and  cattle  fair ;  but,  though  it 
has  undergone  these  removals,  it  still  re- 
tains its  ancient,  original  appellation  of 
"fPinnold  Fair."*  This  fair,  which  is 
perhaps  of  greater  antiquity  than  any  now 
kept  in  the  kingdom,  will  probably  pre- 
serve the  memory  of  St.  Winnold,  in  the 
west  of  Norfolk  and  the  adjoining  coun- 
ties, for  centuries  to  come,  above  the 
whole  host  of  his  canonized  brethren.  He 
is  also  commemorated,  by  the  following 
traditional  West  Norfolk  proverbial  dis- 
tich :— 
"  First  comes  David,  next  comes  Chad, 

And  then  comes  Winnold  as  though  he  was 

mad 

noticing  the  two  previous  days  in  March, 
(the  first  and  second,)  and  in  allusion  to 
the  prevalence  of  windy  weather  at  this 
period.  Whether  St.  Winnold,  in  the 
zenith  of  his  fame,  was  remarkable  for  an 
irascibility  of  temper,  I  am  not  en- 
abled to  say  ;  yet  it  rarely  happens  when 
the  first  few  days  in  March  are  not  at- 
tended with  such  boisterous  and  tem- 
pestuous weather,  generally  from  the 

*   Blom field's  Norfolk.    Taylor's  Index  MonasticuT. 


285 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  4. 


286 


north,  that  he  might  not  improperly  be 
termed  the  Norfolk  «  Boreas." 

K. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  42  *  10. 


4. 


A  Flower  of  the  Season. 

The  fair  author  of  the  "  Flora  Domes- 
tica"  inquires,  **  Who  can  see,  or  hear 
the  name  of  the  daisy,  the  common  field 
daisy,  without  a  thousand  pleasurable  as- 
sociations ?  It  is  connected  with  the 
sports  of  childhood  and  with  the  plea- 
sures of  youth.  We  walk  abroad  to  seek 
it  ;  yet  it  is  the  very  emblem  of  home. 
It  is  a  favourite  with  man,  woman,  and 
child  :  it  is  the  robin  of  flowers.  Turn 
it  all  ways,  and  on  every  side  you  will 
find  new  beauty.  You  are  attracted  by 
the  snowy  white  leaves,  contrasted  by  the 
golden  tuft  in  the  centre,  as  it  rears  its 
head  above  the  green  grass  :  pluck  it,  and 
you  will  find  it  backed  by  a  delicate  star 
of  green,  and  tipped  with  a  blush-colour, 
or  a  bright  crimson. 

'  Daisies  with  their  pinky  lashes' 

are  among  the  first  darlings  of  spring. 
They  are  in  flower  almost  all  the  year; 
closing  in  the  evening,  and  in  wet  wea- 
ther, and  opening  on  the  return  of  the 
sun." 

In  the  poem  of  a  living  poet  are  these 
elegant  stanzas  : 

To  the  Daisy. 

A  nun  demure,  of  lowly  port  ; 

Or  sprightly  maiden  of  Love's  court, 

In  thy  simplicity  the  sport 

Of  all  temptations  ; 
A  queen  in  crown  of  rubies  drest  ; 
A  starveling  in  a  scanty  vest  ; 
Are  all,  as  seem  to  suit  thee  best, 

Thy  appellations. 

A  little  Cyclops,  with  one  eye 

Staring  to  threaten  or  defy, 

That  thought  comes  next,  and  instantly 

The  freak  is  over  ; 
The  freak  will  vanish,  and  behold  ! 
A  silver  shield  with  boss  of  gold, 
That  spreads  itself,  some  fairy  bold 

In  fight  to  cover. 


I  see  thee  glittering  from  afar  ; 
And  then  thou  art  a  pretty  star, 
Not  quite  so  fair  as  many  are 

In  heaven  above  thee ! 
Yet  like  a  star,  with  glittering  crest, 
Self-poised  in  air,  thou  seem'st  to  rest;- 
May  peace  come  never  to  his  nest, 

Who  shall  reprove  thee. 

Sweet  flower  !  for  by  that  name  at  last, 
When  all  my  reveries  are  past, 
I  call  thee,  and  to  that  cleaverfast ; 

Sweet  silent  creature ! 
That  breath'st  with  me  in  sun  and  air, 
Do  thou,  as  thou  art  wont,  repair 
My  heart  with  gladness,  and  a  share 

Of  thy  meek  nature. 

Wordsworth. 


This  evergreen  of  flowers  is  honoured 
by  the  same  delightful  bard  in  other 
poems  ;  our  young  readers  will  not  find 
fault  if  they  are  again  invited  to  indulge; 
and  the  graver  moralist  will  be  equally 
gratified. 

To  the  Daisy. 

In  youth  from  rock  to  rock  I  went, 
From  hill  to  hill,  in  discontent 
Of  pleasure  high  and  turbulent, 

Most  pleased  when  most  uneasy  ; 
But  now  my  own  delights  I  make, — 
My  thirst  at  every  rill  can  slake, 
And  gladly  Nature's  love  partake 

Of  thee,  sweet  daisy  ! 

When  soothed  awhile  by  milder  airs, 
Thee  Winter  in  the  garland  wears 
That  thinly  shades  his  few  grey  hairs ; 

Spring  cannot  shun  thee ; 
Whole  summer  fields  are  thine  by  right , 
And  Autumn,  melancholy  wight, 
Doth  in  thy  crimson  head  delight 

When  rains  are  on  thee. 

In  shoals  and  bands,  a  morrice  train, 
Thou  greet'st  the  traveller  in  the  lane  ; 
If  welcomed  once,  thou  count'st  it  gain  ; 

Thou  art  not  daunted, 
Nor  carest  if  thou  be  set  at  naught : 
And  oft  alone  in  nooks  remote 
We  meet  thee,  like  a  pleasant  thought, 

When  such  are  wanted. 

Be  violets  in  their  secret  mews 

The  flowers  the  wanton  Zephyrs  choose  ; 

Proud  be  the  rose,  with  rains  and  dews 

Her  head  impearling- ; 
Thou  liv'st  with  less  ambitious  aim, 
Yet  hast  not  gone  without  thy  fame 
Thou  art  indeed  by  many  a  claim 

The  poet's  darling. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  5. 


If  to  a  rock  from  rains  he  fly, 
Or  some  bright  day  of  April  sky, 
Imprisoned  by  hot  sunshine  lie 

Near  the  green  holly, 
And  wearily  at  length  should  fare  ; 
He  need  but  look  about,  and  there 
Thou  art ! — a  friend  at  hand,  to  scare 

His  melancholy. 

A  hundred  times,  by  rock  or  bower, 
Ere  thus  I  have  lain  couched  an  hour, 
Have  I  derived  from  thy  sweet  power 

Some  apprehension ; 
Some  steady  love  ;  some  brief  delight ; 
Some  memory  that  had  taken  flight; 
Some  chime  of  fancy,  wrong  or  right ; 

Or  stray  invention. 

If  stately  passions  in  me  burn, 

And  one  chance  look  to  thee  should  turn, 

I  drink  out  of  an  humbler  urn 

A  lowlier  pleasure ; 
The  homely  sympathy  that  heeds 
The  common  life,  our  nature  breeds  ; 
A  wisdom  fitted  to  the  needs 

Of  hearts  at  leisure. 


When,  smitten  by  the  morning  ray, 

I  see  thee  rise  alert  and  gay, 

Then,  cheerful  flower !  my  spirits  play 

With  kindred  gladness : 
And  when,  at  dusk,  by  dews  opprest 
Thou  sink'st,  the  image  of  thy  rest 
Hath  often  eased  my  pensive  breast 

Of  careful  sadness. 


And  all  day  long  I  number  yet, 
All  seasons  through,  another  debt, 
Which  T,  wherever  thou  art  met, 

To  thee  am  owing ; 
An  instinct  call  it,  a  blind  sense  ; 
A  happy  genial  influence, 
Coming  one  knows  not  how  nor  whence, 

Nor  whither  going. 

Child  of  the  year !  that  round  dost  run 
Thy  course,  bold  lover  of  the  sun, 
And  cheerful  when  the  day's  begun 

As  morning  leveret, 
Thy  long-lost  praise  thou  shall  regain ; 
Dear  shall  thou  be  to  future  men 
As  in  old  time  ; — thou,  not  in  vain, 

Art  Nature's  favourite." 


KATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  42  •  10. 


5. 


182b.  —  Mid  Lent  Sunday. 

For  particulars  of  this  day,  see  vol.  i. 
p.  358. 

FLOWERS. 

Yes  —  Flowers  again  !  It  is  the  season 
of  their  approach  ;  therefore  make  ready 
for  their  coming,  and  listen  to  the  fair 
herald  who  is  eloquent  in  praise  of  their 
eloquence.  She  tells  us,  in  her  "  Flora 
Domestica,"  and  who  dare  deny  ?  that 
"  flowers  do  speak  a  language,  a  clear 
and  intelligible  language  :  ask  Mr.  Words- 
worth, for  to  him  they  have  spoken,  until 
they  excited  *  thoughts  that  lie  too  deep 
for  tears  ;'  ask  Chaucer,  for  he  held  com- 
panionship with  them  in  the  meadows  ; 
ask  any  of  the  poets,  ancient  or  modern. 
Observe  them,  reader,  love  them,  linger 
over  them  ;  and  ask  your  own  heart,  if 
they  do  not  speak  affection,  benevolence, 
and  piety.  None  have  better  understood 
the  language  of  flowers  than  the  simple- 
minded  peasant-poet,  Clare,  whose  vo- 
lumes are  like  a  beautiful  country,  diver- 
sified with  woods,  meadows,  heaths,  and 
flower-gardens  : 

Bowing  adorers  of  the  gale, 
Ye  cowslips  delicately  pale, 

Upraise  your  loaded  stems  ; 
Unfold  your  cups  in  splendour,  speak  ! 
Who  decked  you  with  that  ruddy  streak, 

And  gilt  your  golden  gems  ? 

Violets,  sweet  tenants  of  the  shade, 
In  purple's  richest  pride  arrayed, 

Your  errand  here  fulfil  ; 
Go  bid  the  artist's  simple  stain 
Your  lustre  imitate,  in  vain, 

And  match  your  Maker's  skill. 

Daisies,  ye  flowers  of  lowly  birth, 
Embroiderers  of  the  carpet  earth, 

That  stud  the  velvet  sod  ; 
Open  to  spring's  refreshing  air, 
In  sweetest  smiling  bloom  declare 

Your  Maker,  and  my  God. 

Clarv. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  69. 


38V 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 

6. 


290 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  22. 


jHmrfment  in 

The  wooden  bird  on  horseback  showing, 
By  beat  of  drum  with  pipers  blowing, 
They  troop  along  huzzaing,  tooting, 
To  hold  their  annual  game  of  shooting. 


This  is  a  French  sport,  which,  according 
to  a  print  from  whence  the  present  re- 
presentation was  taken,  is  peculiar  to  the 
month  of  March.  The  inscription  on  the 
engraving  just  mentioned,  is — 
MARS. 

REJOUISSANCES  DU  PAPEGUAY. 

Les  Triomphes  d\m  Conqutrant 
Font  voir  pins  de  magnificence  : 
Mais  an  defaut  de  T  opulence^ 
Ceux  cy  ne  content  point  de  Sang. 

The  "  Papo.guay,"  Papcgai,  or  Pape- 
gaut,  is  "  a  wooden  bird  to  shoot  at,  a 
shaw  fowl."*  This  wooden  bird  in  the 


VOL.  II.— 62 


*  Chambaud. 


print  is  carried  on  a  pole  by  the  man  on 
horseback,  attended  by  those  who  are  about 
to  partake  of  the  sport,  and  preceded  by 
music.  It  seems  to  be  a  rustic  amuse- 
ment, and,  perhaps,  some  light  may  be 
thrown  on  it  by  the  following  account  from 
Miss  Plumtre's  "  Residence  in  France." 
She  says,  that  in  connection  with  the 
church  of  St.  John,  at  Aix,  which  former- 
ly belonged  to  the  knights  of  St.  John  of 
Jerusalem,  there  is  a  ceremony  which 
used  to  be  called  Le  Bravade  de  St.  Jean 
d'Aix,  instituted  in  the  year  1272,  on  the 
return  of  the  army  which  had  followed 
Louis  IX.  or  St .  Louis,  in  his  las* 
expedition  to  Egypt  and  the  Holy -land 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


292 


According  to  Miss  Pliimptre,  it  was  held 
on  the  eve  of  St.  John  the  Baptist.  A 
large  bird  of  any  kind  was  tethered  in  a 
field  without  the  town,  so  that  it  could 
fly  only  to  a  certain  height,  and  the  youth 
of  the  place,  those  only  of  the  second 
order  of  nobles,  took  aim  at  him  with 
their  bows  and  arrows  in  presence  of  all 
the  nobility,  gentry,  and  magistracy.  He 
who  killed  the  bird  was  king  of  the  arch- 
ers for  the  year  ensuing,  and  the  two  who 
nad  gone  the  nearest  after  him  were  ap- 
pointed his  lieutenant  and  standard- 
bearer;  he  also  nominated  several  other 
officers  from  among  the  competitors.  The 
company  then  returned  into  the  town,  the 
judges  of  the  contest  marching  first,  fol- 
lowed by  the  victors  :  bonfires  were  made 
in  several  parts,  round  which  the  people 
danced,  while  the  king  and  his  officers 
went  from  one  to  the  other  till  they  had 
danced  by  turns  at  them  all.  The  same 
diversions  were  repeated  the  following 
day ;  and  both  evenings  the  king,  at  the 
conclusion  of  them,  was  attended  home  by 
his  officers  and  a  concourse  of  people, 
among  whom  he  distributed  largesses  to  a 
considerable  amount. 

At  the  first  institution  of  this  ceremony, 
the  intention  of  which  was  to  incite  the 
young  men  to  render  themselves  expert 
marksmen,  the  king  enjoyed  very  exten- 
sive privileges  during  the  year ;  but  in 
latter  times  they  had  been  reduced  to  those 
of  wearing  a  large  silver  medal  which  was 
presented  to  him  at  his  accession,  of  en- 
joying the  right  of  shooting  wherever  he 
chose,  of  partaking  in  the  grand  mass 
celebrated  by  the  order  of  Malta  at  their 
church  on  the  festival  of  St.  John,  and  of 
l>eing  exempted  from  lodging  soldisrs, 
and  paying  what  was  called  Le  droit  de 
piquet,  a  tax  upon  all  the  flour  brought 
into  the  town.  After  the  invention  of  the 
arquebuse,  instead  of  shooting  at  a  live 
bird  with  arrows,  they  fired  at  a  wooden 
bird  upon  a  pole,  and  he  who  could  bring 
it  down  was  appointed  king :  any  one 
who  brought  it  down  two  years  together 
was  declared  emperor,  and  in  that  quality 
exempted  for  life  from  all  municipal  taxes. 
This  ceremony  continued  till  the  revolu- 
tion. 

It  appears  from  hence  that  this  custom 
of  shooting  at  a  wooden  bird  on  St.  John's 
eve  is  very  similar  to  that  which  the  en- 
graving represents,  as  the  merriment  of  the 
Papeguay,  or  wooden  bird,  belonging  to 
the  month  of  March 


Anecdotes  of 
BROWNE  WILLIS, 
The  Antiquarian. 

To  the  portrait  of  this  eminent  anti- 
quary at  p.  194,  is  annexed  the  day  of 
his  birth,  in  1682,  and  the  day  whereon 
he  died,  in  1760.  That  engraving  of  him 
is  after  an  etching  made  "  in  1781,  at  the 
particular  request  of  the  Rev.  William 
Cole,  from  a  drawing  made  by  the  Rev. 
Michael  Tyson,  from  an  original  painting 
by  Dahl."  Mr.  Cole,  in  a  letter  to  Mr. 
Steevens,  speaks  of  the  etching  thus : «« The 
copy  pleases  me  infinitely ;  nothing  can 
be  more  exact  and  like  the  copy  I  sent, 
and  which,  as  well  as  I  can  recollect,  is 
equally  so  to  the  original.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  distance  of  time  when  Dahl  drew 
his  portrait  and  that  in  which  I  knew  him, 
and  the  strange  metamorphose  that  age 
and  caprice  had  made  in  his  figure,  yet  1 
could  easily  trace  some  lines  and  traits  of 
what  Mr.  Dahl  had  given  of  him."  Agree- 
ably to  the  promise  already  given,  some 
particulars  remain  to  be  added  concerning 
the  distinguished  individual  it  represents. 


Browne  Willis  was  grandson  of  Dr. 
Thomas  Willis,  the  most  celebrated  phy- 
sician of  his  time,  and  the  eldest  son  of 
Thomas  Willis,  esq.,  of  Bletchley,  in  the 
county  of  Bucks.  W'hen  at  Westminster 
school,  "the  neighbouring  abbey  drew  his 
admiration :  here  he  loved  to  walk  and 
contemplate.  The  solemnity  of  the  build- 
ing, the  antique  appearance,  the  monu- 
ments, filled  his  whole  mind.  He  de- 
lighted himself  in  reading  old  inscriptions. 
Here  he  first  imbibed  the  love  of  antiqui- 
ties, and  the  impression  grew  indelible." 
At  seventeen  he  was  admitted  a  gentleman 
commoner  of  Christ  Church  college;  in 
1 705  he  represented  the  town  of  Bucking- 
ham in  parliament,  where  he  constantly 
attended,  and  often  sat  on  committees  ;  in 
1707  he  married  ;  in  1718  he  became  an 
active  member  of  the  society  of  antiqua- 
ries ;  in  1720  the  university  of  Oxford 
conferred  on  him  the  degree  of  M.  A.  by 
diploma;  and  in  1740  he  received  from 
it  the  degree  of  LL.  D.  On  the  llth  of 
February,  1760,  he  was  buried  in  Fenny 
Stratford  chapel,  an  edifice  which,  though 
he  founded  it  himself,  he  was  accustomed 
to  attribute  to  the  munificence  of  others, 
"  who  were  in  reality  only  contributors." 
Of  his  numerous  antiquarian  works  the 
principal  are  "  Notitia  Parliamcntaria,  c* 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


294 


an  History  of  the  Counties,  Cities,  and 
Boroughs  in  England  and  Wales,"  3  vols. 
Bvo.  "  Mitred  Abbies,  &c."  2  vols.  8vo. 
"  Cathedrals  of  England,"  3  vols.  4to. 
and  4  vols.  Bvo. — He  attained  a  most  ex- 
tensive erudition  in  the  topographical, 
architectural,  and  numismatic  remains  of 
England  by  devoting  his  life  to  their  study, 
which  he  pursued  with  unabated  ardour, 
uncheered  by  the  common  hope  of  deriving 
even  a  sufficiency  from  his  various  publi- 
cations to  defray  their  expenses.  In  a 
letter  to  his  friend  Dr.  Ducarel,  when  he 
was  seventy-four  years  of  age,  he  says,  "I 
am  100/.  out  of  pocket  by  what  I  have 
printed  ;  except  my  octavo  of  Parliaments, 
which  brought  me  \5l.  profit,  though  I 
gave  it  all  away,  and  above  20J.  more  to 
build  Buckingham  tower  steeple ;  and 
now,  as  I  hoped  for  subscription  to  this 
book,  (his  last  work,  the  History  of  the 
Town  and  Hundred  of  Buckingham)  am 
Jike  to  have  half  the  impression  on  my 
hands.  Sold  only  69  copies,  of  which  to 
gentlemen  of  Buckinghamshire,  only  28." 
In  the  same  year,  1756,  he  writes  to  one 
of  his  daughters,  "  I  have  worked  for 
nothing ;  nay,  except  in  one  book,  have 
been  out  of  pocket,  and  at  great  expense 
in  what  I  printed  "  He  considerably  im- 
paired his  fortune  by  the  scrupulosity  and 
magnitude  of  his  researches  and  collec- 
tions, which  he  persevered  in  till  he  grew 
so  weak  and  infirm  that  he  had  not 
strength  to  reach  down  and  turn  over  his 
books,  or  draw  up  particulars  with  his  own 
hands.  Yet  even  then,  in  his  seventy- 
eighth  year,  he  amused  himself  by  in- 
quiries concerning  "  Bells,"  and  obtained 
returns  of  the  contents  of  belfries  in  nearly 
six  hundred  parishes  of  the  county  of  Lin- 
coln, which  he  entered  in  the  "  Parochiale 
Anglicanum." 


An  account  of  Dr.  Willis  was  read  to 
the  society  of  antiquaries,  by  his  friend 
Dr.  Ducarel,  who  sums  up  his  character 
in  these  words  : — "  This  learned  society, 
of  which  he  was  one  of  the  first  revivers, 
and  one  of  the  most  industrious  members, 
can  bear  me  witness  that  he  was  indefati- 
gable in  his  researcnes ;  for  his  works 
were  of  the  most  laborious  kind.  But 
what  enabled  him,  besides  his  unwearied 
diligence,  to  bring  them  to  perfection, 
was,  his  being  blessed  with  a  most  excel- 
lent memory.  He  had  laid  so  good  a 
foundation  of  learning,  that,  though  he 
had  chiefly  conversed  with  records,  and 


otner  matters  of  antiquity  which  are  not 
apt  to  form  a  polite  style,  yet  he  expressed 
himself,  in  all  his  compositions,  in  an 
easy  and  genteel  manner.  He  was,  in- 
deed, one  of  the  first  who  placed  our 
ecclesiastical  history  and  antiquities  upon 
a  firm  basis,  by  grounding  them  upon  rer- 
cords  and  registers ;  which,  in  the  main, 
are  unexceptionable  authorities.  During 
the  course  of  his  long  life,  he  had  visited 
every  cathedral  in  England  and  Wales, 
except  Carlisle  ;  which  journeys  he  used 
to  call  his  pilgrimages.  In  his  friendships 
none  more  sincere  and  hearty;  always 
communicative,  and  ever  ready  to  assist 
every  studious  and  inquisitive  person: 
this  occasioned  an  acquaintance  and  con- 
nection between  him  and  all  his  learned 
contemporaries.  For  his  mother,  the 
university  of  Oxford,  he  always  expressed 
the  most  awful  respect  and  the  wannest 
esteem.  As  to  his  piety  and  moral  quali- 
fications, he  was  strictly  religious,  without 
any  mixture  of  superstition  or  enthusiasm, 
and  quite  exemplary  in  this  respect :  and 
of  this,  his  many  public  works,  in  build- 
ing, repairing,  and  beautifying  of  churches, 
are  so  many  standing  evidences.  He  was 
charitable  to  the  poor  and  needy  ;  just  and 
upright  towards  all  men.  In  a  word,  no 
one  ever  deserved  better  of  the  society  of 
antiquaries ;  if  industry  and  an  incessant 
application,  throughout  a  long  life,  to  the 
investigating  the  antiquities  of  this  na- 
tional church  and  state,  is  deserving  of 
their  countenance." 


The  editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book 
possesses  an  unprinted  letter  written  by 
Dr.  Willis  to  the  learned  bishop  Tanner, 
when  chancellor  of  Norwich.  A  copy  of 
this  letter  is  subjoined,  together  with  a 
fac-simile  of  its  date  and  the  place  from 
whence  it  was  addressed,  in  Dr.  Willis's 
hand-writing,  and  a  further  fac-siraile  of 
his  autograph  at  the  conclusion.  The 
epistle  is  written  on  a  proof  impression  of 
"  The  Ichnography  or  Platform  of  the 
Cathedral  Church  of  Christ  Church  in 
Oxford,"  one  of  the  plates  in  Dr.  Willis's 
"  Cathedrals,"  relative  to  which,  as  well 
as  other  works,  he  sought  information 
from  his  distinguished  brother  antiquary 
This  letter  is  a  good  specimen  of  1/r. 
Willis's  epistolary  style  of  communica- 
tion, and  of  that  minuteness  of  investi- 
gation which  is  indispensable  to  antiqua- 
rian labours :  it  likewise  testifies  his 
solicitude  for  the  education  of  his  eldest 


295 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


son  "  Tom,"  who  died  four  years  before 
himself,  and  expresses  a  natural  desire 
that  Dr.  Tanner  would  visit  his  ecclesi- 
astical foundation  at  Fenny  Stratford. 

Copy. 
To 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Tanner 

Chancellor  of  Norwich 
att 
Norwich 


Dear  Mr.  Chancellor, 
I  am  honoured  with  yours  just  now 
received,  and  though  weary  with  a  jour- 
ney being  come  home  to  night  after  3 
days  absence,  and  lying  out  of  my  Bed 
which  I  have  not  done  since  Sir  Thomas 
Lee's  Election  in  January,  yet  I  cannot 
omitt  paying  my  duty  to  you  and  thank- 
ing you  for  the  favour  and  satisfaction 
yours  gave  mee  —  I  have  printed  above  20 
Prebendal  Stalls  of  Lincoln  but  it  does 
not  goe  on  so  fast  as  I  would  have  it, 
else  I  should  soon  come  to  Ely,  but  I 
doubt  I  shall  stay  a  long  time  for  the 
draughts,  wherefore  I  pray  when  you 
write  to  Dr.  Knight  press  his  getting  them 
done  out  of  hand  —  I  have  here  one  of 
Christ-church  which  I  write  upon  that 
you  may  give  your  opinion  —  I  shall  be 
very  glad  you  approve  it,  wee  cannot 
well  put  in  more  references.  As  to  the 
Prebend  arys  of  Lincoln,  since  I  have 
wrote  5  or  6  letters  to  the  Bishop  without 
an  answer,  I  am  obliged  to  be  contented. 
I  should  be  glad  of  Thomas  Davies's  Epi- 
taph from  Bexwell.  He  was  vicar  of 
Siston  co:  Leicester  and  A.M.  as  my  Ac- 
count says.  I  have  only  4  or  5  to  enquire 
after  that  I  shall  be  so  eager  to  find,  viz. 
Joshua  Clark  (Prebendary)  of  Cester,  who 
died  1712.  I  have  wrote  to  his  2  suc- 
cessors and  cannot  hear  one  word  :  The 
others  I  want  are  John  Davenport,  Mr. 
Davies's  predecessor  in  Sutton  Prebend, 
and  Henry  Moriand  or  Merland  who 
died  about  1704  ;  but  I  would  more  par- 
ticularly enquire  after  Thomas  Stanhope, 
who,  about  1668,  was  installed  into  the 
Prebend  of  Sutton  cum  Buckingham  —  I 
shall  be  thankfull  for  any  Information  of 
him,  as  I  am  of  all  opportunitys  of  hear- 
ing from  you,  and  design  to  lay  by  your 
papers  of  Ely  to  send  you  again  :  but  I 


am  teized  sadly  about  Bishop  Lloyd  of 
Norwich's  great  Seal,  and  the  circumscrip- 
tion round  it,  and  have  had  2  letters  this 
week  on  that  account :  what  my  importu- 
nate correspondent  wants  is,  the  circle  of 
writing  round  the  Episcopal  Seal  in 
which  he  wrote  his  name  Gulielimus  :  I 
am  ashamed  to  repeat  this  Impertinence 
to  which  I  pray  a  quick  answer,  especialy 
as  to  another  subject  of  the  greatest  con- 
sequence of  all,  which  is  about  placing  my 
Eldest  Son  at  Christ -church,  where  I  de- 
sign to  make  him  a  commoner,  for  he 
must  study  hard — I  am  to  consult  about 
a  Tutor,  and  would  gladly  have  one  you 
have  a  confidence  in ;  there  are  recom- 
mended Mr.  Allen,  Mr.  Bateman,  and 
Mr.  Ward ;  now  if  you  can  answer  for 
ever  an  one  of  these,  and  that  he  will,  on 
your  friendshipp  or  the  Dean's,  have  a 
more  particular  eye  to  Tom,  whom  I  dont 
design  to  continue  above  2  or  3  years  at 
most,  I  shall  be  very  thankfull  for  your 
recommendation.  And  so  pray  dear  Mr. 
Chancellor  write  soon  and  advise  mee, 
but  I  hope  your  affairs  will  call  you  to 
Oxford,  and  that  you  will  take  mee  in 
your  way  and  see  Stratford  chapell,  which 
is  very  near,  and  your  ever  obliged  and 
devoted  Servant  in  all  things, 


Browne  Willis's  letter  is  franked  by 
Dr.  Richard  Willis,  bishop  of  Winches- 
ter, who  was  translated  to  that  see  from 
the  bishopric  of  Salisbury,  in  1723.  A 
fac-simile  of  his  autograph,  on  this  occa- 
sion, is  annexed. 


The  character  of  Dr.  Willis,  by  Dr. 
Ducarel,  records  his  *'  pilgrimages"  to 
"  every  cathedral  in  England  and  Wales, 
except  Carlisle."  The  antiquity,  and  the 
purposes  of  religious  buildings,  were  ob- 
jects of  his  utmost  veneration ;  and  he 
had  the  remarkable  propensity  of  visiting 
churches  on  the  festival-day  of  the  saint 
to  whom  they  were  dedicated.  In  Fenny 
Stratford  chapel  he  placed  the  following 
lines,  "to  the  memory  of  Thomas  Willis, 


297 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


298 


M.D.,"  his  grandfather,    through  whom     he  derived  his  patrimonial  estates:— 

In  honour  to  thy  mem'ry,  blessed  Shade  ! 

Was  the  foundation  of  this  chapel  laid. 

Purchas'd  by  thee,  thy  son,  and  present  heir, 

Owes  these  three  manors  to  thy  sacred  care. 

For  this,  may  all  thy  race  thanks  ever  pay, 

And  yearly  celebrate  St.  Martin's  day  !  B.  W. 


A  letter  he  wrote  within  three  months 
before  his  death  particularizes  his  regard 
of  festival-days. 

Mr.  Nichols  transcribes  a  letter  which 
he  wrote  very  late  in  life,  dated  Nov. 
13,  1759:  "Good  Mr.  Owen,  This 
«omes  to  thank  you  for  your  favour  at 
Oxford  at  St.  Frideswide's  festival ;  and 
as  your  Bodleian  visitation  is  over,  I 
hope  you  are  a  little  at  liberty  to  come 
and  see  your  friends ;  and  as  you  was 
pleased  to  mention  you  would  once  more 
make  me  happy  with  your  good  com- 
pany, I  wish  it  might  be  next  week,  at 
our  St.  Martin's  anniversary  at  Fenny 
Stratford,  which  is  Thursday  se'nnight, 
the  22d  instant,  when  a  sermon  will  be 
preached  by  the  minister  of  Buckingham  : 
the  last  I  am  ever  like  to  attend,  so  very 
infirm  as  I  am  now  got ;  so  that  I  stir 
very  little  out  of  the  house,  and  it  will 
therefore  be  charity  to  have  friends  come 
and  visit  me." 

Mr.  Gough's  manuscripts  relate  of  Dr. 
Willis,  that  "he  told  Mr.  S.  Bush  he 
was  going  to  Bristol  on  St.  Austins-day 
to  see  the  cathedral,  it  being  the  dedica- 
tion day"  It  is  added,  that  "  he  would 
lodge  in  no  house  at  Bath  but  the  Abbey- 
house  :  he  said,  when  he  was  told  that. 
Wells  cathedral  was  800  years  old,  there 
was  not  a  stone  of  it  left  500  years  ago." 

Miss  Talbot,  "  in  an  unprinted  letter 
to  a  lady  of  first-rate  quality,"  dated 
from  the  rectory  house  of  St.  James's 
parish,  (Westminster,)  January  2,  1739, 
humorously  describes  him  and  says,  "As 
by  his  little  knowledge  of  the  world,  he 
has  ruined  a  fine  estate,  that  was,  when 
he  first  had  it,  worth  2000/.  per  annum, 
his  present  circumstances  oblige  him  to 
an  odd-headed  kind  of  frugality,  that 
shows  itself  in  the  slovenliness  of  his 
dre?s,  and  makes  him  think  London 
much  too  extravagant  an  abode  for  his 
daughters ;  at  the  same  time  that  his  zeal 
for  antiquities  makes  him  think  an  old 
copper  farthing  very  cheaply  bought  for  a 
guinea,  and  any  journey  properly  under- 
taken that  will  bring  him  to  some  old 
cathedral  en  the  saivt's  day  to  which  it 


was  dedicated."  Further  on,  Miss  Tal- 
bot adds,  relative  to  Dr.  Willis  on  St. 
George's  day,  "  To  honour  last  Sunday 
as  it  deserved,  after  having  run  about  all 
the  morning  to  all  the  St.  George's 
churches,  whose  difference  of  hours  per- 
mitted him,  he  came  to  dine  with  us  in  a 
tie-wig,  that  exceeds  indeed  all  descrip- 
tion. 'Tis  a  tie-wig  (the  very  colour  of 
it  is  inexpressible)  that  he  has  had,  he 
says,  these  nine  years ;  and  of  late  it  has 
lain  by  at  his  barber's,  never  to  be  put  on 
but  once  a  year,  in  honour  of  the  Bishop 
of  Gloucester's  (Benson)  birth- day." 


These  peculiarities  of  Dr.  Willis  are 
in  Mr.  Nichols's  "  Literary  Anecdotes," 
from  which  abundant  depository  of  fac»s, 
the  particulars  hereafter  related  are  like- 
wise extracted,  with  a  view  to  the  inform- 
ation of  general  readers.  On  the  same 
ground,  that  gentleman's  collection  is 
mentioned ;  for — it  is  not  to  be  presumed 
that  any  real  inquirer  into  the  "  Literary 
History"  of  the  last  or  the  preceding  cen- 
tury can  be  ignorant,  that  Mr.  Nichols's 
invaluable  work  is  an  indispensable  * 
assistant  to  every  diligent  investigator. 
It  is  certainly  the  fullest,  and  is  probably 
the  most  accurate,  source  that  can  be  con- 
sulted for  biographical  facts  during  that 
period,  and  is  therefore  quoted  by  name, 
as  all  authors  ought  to  be  by  every  writei 
or  editor  who  is  influenced  by  grateful 
feelings  towards  his  authorities,  and  honest 
motives  towards  the  public. 


Dr.  Willis  was  whimsically  satirized 
in  the  following  verses  by  Dr.  Darrell  of 
Lillington  Darrell. 

AN  EXCELLENT  BALLA.D. 

To  the  Tune  of  Chcvy-Chace. 

Whilome  there  dwelt  near  Buckingham, 

That  famous  county  town, 
At  a  known  place,  hight  Whaddou  Chace, 

A  'squire  of  odd  renown. — 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


A  Druid's  sacred  form  he  bore, 

His  robes  a  girdle  bound  : 
Deep  vers'd  he  was  in  ancient  lore, 

In  customs  old,  profound. 

A  stick  torn  from  that  hallow'd  tree 

Where  Chaucer  us'd  to  sit, 
And  tell  his  tales  with  leering  glee, 

Supports  his  tott'ring  feet. 

High  on  a  hill  his  mansion  stood 

But  gloomy  dark  within  ; 
Here  mangled  books,  as  bones  and  blood 

Lie  in  a  giant's  den. 

Crude,  undigested,  half-devour'd, 

On  groaning  shelves  they're  thrown  ; 

Such  manuscripts  no  eye  could  read, 
Nor  hand  write — but  his  own. 

No  prophet  he,  like  Sydrophel, 

Could  future  times  explore  ; 
But  what  had  happen'd,  he  could  tell, 

Five  hundred  years  and  more. 

A  walking  Alm'nack  he  appears, 
Slept  from  some  mouldy  wall, 

Worn  out  of  use  thro*  dust  and  years, 
Like  scutcheons  in  his  hall. 

His  boots  were  made  of  that  cow's  hide, 

By  Guy  of  Warwick  slain  ; 
Time's  choicest  gifts,  aye  to  abide 

Among  the  chosen  train. 

Who  first  receiv'd  the  precious  boon, 

We're  at  a  loss  to  learn, 
By  Spelman,  Camden,  Dugdale,  worn, 

And  then  they  came  to  Hearne. 

Hearne  strutted  in  them  for  a  while  ; 

And  then,  as  lawful  heir, 
Browne  claim'd  and  seiz'd  the  precious  spoil, 

The  spoil  of  many  a  year. 

His  car  himself  he  did  provide, 

To  stand  in  double  stead ; 
That  it  should  carry  him  alive, 

And  bury  him  when  dead. 

By  rusty  coins  old  kings  ne'd  trace, 
And  know  their  air  and  mien  : 

King  Alfred  he  knew  well  by  face, 
Tho*  George  he  ne'er  had  seen. 

This  wight  th'  outside  of  churches  lov'd, 

Almost  unto  a  sin  ; 
Spires  Gothic  of  more  use  he  prov'd 

Than  pulpits  are  within. 

Of  use,  no  doubt,  when  high  in  air, 
A  wand'ring  bird  they'll  rest, 

Or  with  a  Bramin's  holy  care, 
Make  lodgments  for  its  nest. 

Ye  Jackdaws,  that  are  us'd  to  talk, 

Like  us  of  human  race, 
TV'ien  nigh  you  see  Browne  Willis  walk 

Loud  chatter  forth  his  praise. 


Whene'er  the  fatal  day  shall  come, 

For  come,  alas  !  "it  must, 
When  this  good  'squire  must  stay  at  home, 

And  turn  to  antique  dust ; 

The  solemn  dirge,  ye  Owls,  prepare, 
Ye  Bats,  more  hoarsly  screek  ; 

Croak,  all  ye  Ravens,  round  the  bier, 
And  all  ye  Church-mice  squeak. 


The  Rev.W.  Cole  says,  "  Browne  Willis 
had  a  most  passionate  regard  for  the 
town  of  Buckingham,  which  he  repre- 
sented in  Parliament  one  session,  or  part 
of  a  session.  This  he  showed  on  every 
occasion,  and  particularly  in  endeavour- 
ing to  get  a  new  charter  for  them,  and  to 
get  the  bailiff  changed  into  a  mayor ;  by 
unwearied  application  in  getting  thr 
issizes  held  once  a  year  there,  and  pro- 
curing the  archdeacon  to  hold  his  visit- 
ations, and  also  the  bishop  there,  as 
often  as  possible ;  by  promoting  the 
building  of  a  jail  in  the  town  ;  and,  above 
all,  by  procuring  subscriptions,  and  him- 
self liberally  contributing,  to  the  raising 
the  tower  of  the  church  24  feet  higher. 
As  he  cultivated  an  interest  opposite  to 
the  Temple  family,  they  were  never  upon 
good  terms ;  and  made  verses  upon  each 
other  on  their  several  foibles." 


The  same  Mr.  Cole,  by  way  of 
notes  on  the  preceding  poem,  relates  the 
following  anecdotes  of  Dr.  Willis,  which 
are  subjoined  to  it  by  Mr.  Nichols. 
"Mr.  Willis  never  mentioned  the  adored 
town  of  Buckingham  without  the  addition 
of  county-town.  His  person  and  dress 
were  so  singular,  that,  though  a  gentle- 
man of  1000/.  per  annum,  he  has  often 
been  taken  for  a  beggar.  An  old  leathern 
girdle  or  belt,  always  surrounded  the  two 
or  three  coats  he  wore,  anil  over  them  an 
old  blue  cloak.  He  wrote  the  worst 
hand  of  any  man  in  England, — such  as 
he  could  with  difficulty  read  himself,  and 
what  no  one,  except  his  old  correspond- 
ents, could  decipher.  His  boots,  which 
he  almost  always  appeared  in,  were  not 
the  least  singular  part  of  his  dress.  I 
suppose  it  will  not  be  a  falsity  to  say  they 
were  forty  years  old,  patched  and  vamped 
up  at  various  times.  They  are  all  in 
wrinkles,  and  don't  come  up  above  half 
way  of  his  legs.  He  was  often  called  in 
the  neighbourhood,  Old  Wrinkle  Boots. 
They  are  humorously  historized  in  the 
above  poem.  The  chariot  of  Mr.  Willis 


301 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK  —MARCH  t>. 


302 


was  so  singular,  that  from  it  he  was  called 
nimself,  The  old  Chariot.  It  was  his 
wedding  chariot,  and  had  nis  arms  on 
orass  plates  about  it,  not  unlike  a  coffin, 
and  painted  black.  He  was  as  remark- 
able probably  for  his  love  to  the  walls  and 
structures  of  churches,  as  for  his  variance 
with  the  clergy  in  his  neighbourhood.  He 
built,  by  subscription,  the  chapel  at  Fenny 
Stratford  ;  repaired  Bletchley  church  very 
elegantly,  at  a  great  expense;  repaired 
Bow-Brickill  church,  desecrated  and  not 
used  for  a  century,  and  added  greatly  to 
the  height  of  Buckingham  church  tower. 
He  was  not  well  pleased  with  any  one, 
who  in  talking  of,  or  with  him,  did  not 
call  him  Squire.  I  wrote  these  notes 
when  I  was  out  of  humour  with  him  for 
some  of  his  tricks.  God  rest  his  soul, 
and  forgive  us  all.  Amen !"  Cole  and 
Willis  were  friends.  Our  antiquary  pre- 
sented a  living  to  Mr.  Cole,  who  appears 
to  have  been  very  useful  to  him  as  a 
transcriber,  seeker  after  dates,  and  col- 
lector of  odds  and  ends.  In  erudition, 
discrimination,  arrangement,  and  literary 
powers,  Cole  was  at  an  immense  distance 
from  him.  Dr.  Wil'is's  writing  he  calls 
"  the  worst  hand  of  any  man  in  England." 
This  was  not  the  fact.  Cole's  "  hand" 
was  formal,  and  as  plain  as  print ;  it  was 
the  only  qualification  he  possessed  over 
Dr.  Willis,  whose  writing  is  certainly  pe- 
culiar, and  yet,  where  it  seems  difficult,  is 
readily  decipherable  by  persons  accus- 
tomed to  varieties  of  method,  and  is  to 
be  read  with  ease  by  any  one  at  all  ac- 
quainted with  its  uniform  character. 


On  Dr.  Willis's  personal  appearance, 
Mr.  Cole  says,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Steevens, 
"  When  I  knew  him  first,  about  35  years 
ago,  he  had  more  the  appearance  of  a 
mumping  beggar  than  of  a  gentleman  ; 
and  the  most  like  resemblance  of  his 
figure  that  I  can  recollect  among  old 
prints,  is  that  of  Old  Hobson  .the  "Cam- 
bridge carrier.  He  then,  as  always,  was 
dressed  in  an  old  slouched  hat,  more 
brown  than  black,  a  weather-beaten  large 
wig,  three  or  four  old-fashioned  coats,  all 
tied  round  by  a  leathern  belt,  and  over  all 
an  old  blue  cloak,  lined  with  black  fus- 
tian, which  he  told  me  he  had  new  made 
when  he  was  elected  member  for  the 
town  of  Buckingham  about  1707."  Cole 
retained  affection  for  his  memory  :  he 
adds  "  I  have  still  by  me  as  relics,  this 
cloak  and  belt,  which  I  purchased  of  his 


servant/'  Cole's  letter  with  this  account 
he  consented  that  Mr.  Steevens  should 
allow  Mr.  Nichols  to  use,  adding  that  he 
gave  the  permission  "  on  a  presumption, 
that  there  was  nothing  disrespectful  to 
the  memory  of  Mr.  Willis,  for  what  I 
said  I  don't  recollect."  On  this,  Mr 
Nichols  remarks,  "  The  disrespect  was 
certainly  levelled  at  the  mere  external 
foibles  of  the  respectable  antiquary,  whose 
goodness  of  heart,  and  general  spirit  ot 
philanthropy  were  amply  sufficient  to 
bear  him  out  in  those  whimsical  peculi- 
arities of  dress,  which  were  irresistible 
sources  of  ridicule." 

Cole,  however,  may  be  suspected  to 
have  somewhat  exaggerated,  when  he  so 
generalized  his  description  of  Dr.  Willis, 
as  to  affirm  that  "  he  had  more  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  mumping  beggar  than  of  a 
gentleman."  Miss  Talbot,  of  whom  it 
was  said  by  the  duchess  of  Somerset  to 
lady  Luxborough,  "  she  censures  nobody, 
she  despises  nobody,  and  whilst  her  own 
life  is  a  pattern  of  goodness,  she  does  not 
exclaim  with  bitterness  against  vice,"seems, 
in  her  letter  to  the  lady  of  quality  before 
cited,  to  have  painted  Dr.  Willis  to  the 
life.  She  says,  "  With  one  of  the  honest- 
est  hearts  in  the  world,  he  has  one  of  the 
oddest  heads  that  ever  dropped  out  of 
the  moon.  Extremely  well  versed  in 
coins,  he  knows  hardly  any  thing  of  man- 
kind, and  you  may  judge  what  kind  of 
education  such  an  one  is  likely  to  give  to 
four  girls,  who  have  had  no  female  di- 
rectress to  polish  their  behaviour,  or  any 
other  habitation  than  a  great  rambling 
mansion-house  in  a  country  village." 

It  must  be  allowed,  notwithstanding, 
to  the  credit  of  Mr.  Cole,  that  she  adds, 
"He  is  the  dirtiest  creature  in  the  world;" 
but  then,  with  such  a  character  from  the 
.mouth  of  a  fine  lady, the  sex  and  breed  ing  of 
the  affirmant  must  be  taken  into  the  ac- 
count,especially  as  she  assigns  her  reasons. 
"It  is  quite  disagreeable,"  she  says,  "  to  sit 
by  him  at  table  :  yet  he  makes  one  suit  o 
clothes  serve  him  at  least  two  years,  and 
then  his  great  coat  has  been  transmitted 
down,  I  believe,  from  generation  to  gene- 
ration, ever  since  Noah."  Thus  there  may 
be  something  on  the  score  of  want  ot 
fashion  in  her  estimate. 

Miss  Talbot's  account  of  Dr.  Willis's 
daughters  is  admirable.  "  Browne  dis- 
tinguishes his  four  daughters  into  the 


303 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


30-1 


//on*  and  the  lambs.  The  lambs  are  very 
good  and  very  insipid  ;  they  were  in  town 
about  ten  days,  that  ended  the  beginning 
of  last  week  ;  and  now  the  lions  have  suc- 
ceeded them,  who  have  a  little  spirit  of 
rebellion,  that  makes  them  infinitely  more 
agreeable  than  their  sober  sisters.  The 
lambs  went  to  every  church  Browne  pleased 
every  day  ;  the  lions  came  to  St.  James's 
church  on  St.  Georges  day,  (which  to 
Browne  was  downright  heresy,  for  reasons 
just  related.)  The  lambs  thought  of  no 
higher  entertainment  than  going  to  see 
some  collections  of  shells  ;  the  lions  would 
see  every  thing,  and  go  every  where. 
The  lambs  dined  here  one  day,  were 
thought  good  awkward  girls,  and  then 
were  laid  out  of  our  thoughts  for  ever. 
The  lions  dined  with  us  on  Sunday,  and 
were  so  extremely  diverting,  that  we  spent 
all  yesterday  morning,  and  are  engaged 
to  spend  all  this,  in  entertaining  them, 
and  going  to  a  comedy,  that,  I  think,  has 
no  ill-nature  in  it ;  for  the  simplicity  of 
these  girls  has  nothing  blameable  in  it, 
and  the  contemplation  of  such  unassisted 
nature  is  infinitely  amusing.  They  follow 
Miss  Jenny's  rule,  of  never  being  strange 
in  a  strange  place ;  yet  in  them  this  is 
not  boldness."  Miss  Talbot  says,  she 
could  give  "  a  thousand  traits  of  the 
lions,"  but  she  merely  adds,  "  I  won- 
dered to  have  heard  no  remarks  on  the 
prince  and  princess;  their  remarks 
on  every  thing  else  are  admirable.  As 
they  sat  in  the  drawing-room  before  din- 
ner, one  of  them  called  to  Mr.  Seeker, 
'  I  wish  you  would  give  me  a  glass  of 
sack  !'  The  bishop  of  Oxford  (Seeker) 
came  in,  and  one  of  them  broke  out  very 
abruptly,  *  Bui  we  heard  every  word  of 
the  sermon  where  we  sat ;  and  a  very 
good  sermon  it  was,'  added  she,  with  a 
decisive  nod.  The  bishop  of  Gloucester 
gave  them  tickets  to  go  to  a  play  ;  and 
»ne  of  them  took  great  pains  to  repeat  to 
Itim,  till  he  heard  it,  '  I  would  not  rob 
you,  but  I  know  you  are  very  rich,  and 
can  afford  it ;  for  I  ben't  covetous,  indeed 
1  an't  covetous.'  Poor  giils  !  their  father 
will  make  them  go  out  of  town  to-morrow, 
and  they  begged  very  hard  that  we  would 
all  join  in  entreating  him  to  let  them  stay 
a  fortnight,  as  their  younger  sisters  have 
done  ;  but  all  our  entreaties  were  in  vain, 
and  to-morrow  the  poor  lions  return  to 
their  den  in  the  stage-coach.  Indeed,  in 
his  birth-day  tie-wig  he  looked  so  like 
'  the  father'  in  the  farce  Mrs.  Seeker 
was  so  diverted  with,  that  I  wished  a 


thousand  times  for  the  invention  of  ScapiK 
and  I  would  have  made  no  scruple  of  as- 
suming the  character,  and  inspiring  my 
friends  with  the  laudable  spirit  of  rebel- 
lion. I  have  picked  out  some  of  the 
dullest  of  their  traits  to  tell  you.  They 
pressed  us  extremely  to  come  and  break- 
fast with  them  at  their  lodgings,  four 
inches  square,  in  Chapel-street,  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  bring  a  stay- 
maker  and  the  bishop  of  Gloucester  with 
us.  We  put  off  the  engagement  till  eleven, 
sent  the  stay-maker  to  measure  them  at 
nine,  and  Mrs.  Seeker  and  I  went  and 
found  the  ladies  quite  undressed ;  so  that, 
instead  of  taking  them  to  Kensington 
Gardens,  as  we  promised,  we  were  forced, 
for  want  of  time,  to  content  ourselves 
with  carrying  them  round  Grosvenor- 
square  into  the  Ring,  where,  for  want  of 
better  amusement,  they  were  fain  to  fall 
upon  the  basket  of  dirty  sweetmeats  and 
cakes  that  an  old  woman  is  always  teizing 
you  with  there,  which  they  had  nearly 
despatched  in  a  couple  of  rounds.  It 
were  endless  to  tell  you  all  that  has  inex- 
pressibly diverted  me  in  their  behaviour 
and  conversation." 


Mr.  Nichols  contents  himself  with  call- 
ing Miss  Talbot's  letter  "  a  very  pleasant 
one" — it  is  delightfully  pleasant :  that  its 
description  may  not  be  received  in  an  ill 
sense,  he  carefully  remarks,  that  "  it 
would  be  thought  highly  satirical  in  any 
body  else,"  but  he  roguishly  affirms  that 
"  Dr.  Taylor  could  tell  a  thousand  such 
stories  of  Browne  Willis  and  his  family;'' 
and  then  he  selects  another.  "  In 
the  summer  of  1740,  after  Mr.  Baker's 
death,  his  executor  came  to  take  posses- 
sion of  the  effects,  and  lived  for  some  time 
in  his  chambers  at  college.  Here  Browne 
Willis  waited  upon  him  to  see  some  of  the 
MSS.  or  books ;  and  after  a  long  visit,  to 
find  and  examine  what  he  wanted,  the  old 
bed-maker  of  the  rooms  came,  in  ;  when 
the  gentleman  said,  '  What  noise  was  that 
I  heard  just  as  you  opened  the  door?'  (he 
had  heard  the  rustling  of  silk) — 'Oh  !'  says 
Browne  Willis,  *  it  is  only  one  of  my 
daughters  that  I  left  on  the  staircase 
This,  we  may  suppose,  was  a  lamb,  by 
her  patient  waiting ;  else  a  lion  would 
have  been  better  able  to  resist  any  petty 
rudenesses.'  "  Afterwards  we  have  ano- 
ther "  trait"  of  the  same  kind  :  "  Once 
after  long  teasing,  the  young  ladies  pre. 
vailed  on  him  to  give  them  a  London 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


jaunt. ;  unluckily  the  lodgings  were  (un- 
known to  tnem)  at  an  undertaker's,  the 
irregular  and  late  hours  of  whose  business 
was  not  very  agreeable  to  the  young 
ladies:  but  they  comforted  themselves  with 
the  thoughts  of  the  pleasure  they  should 
have  during  their  stay  in  town  ;  when  to 
their  great  surprise  and  grief,  as  soon 
as  they  had  got  their  breakfast,  the  old 
family  coach  rumbled  to  the  door,  and  the 
father  bid  them  get  in,  as  he  had  done  the 
business  about  which  he  came  to  town." 
Poor  girls  ! 


The  late  Rev.  John  Kynaston,  M.  A., 
fellow  of  Brazen-nose  college,  who  had 
seen  the  preceding  paragraphs,  writes  to 
Mr.  Nichols,  "  Your  anecdotes  of  the  lions 
and  the  lambs  have  entertained  me  pro- 
digiously, as  I  w'ell  knew  the  grizzly  sire 
of  both.      Browne  Willis  was  indeed  an 
original.      I  met  with  him  at  Mr.  Cart- 
wright's,  at  Aynhoe,  in  Northamptonshire, 
in  1753,  where  I  was  at  that  time  chap- 
lain to  the  family,  and  curate  of  the  parish. 
Browne  came  here  on  a  visit  of  a  week 
that  summer.  He  looked  for  all  the  world 
like  an  old  portrait  of  the  era  of  queen 
Elizabeth,  that  had  walked  down  out  of 
its  frame.      He  was,  too  truly,  the  very 
dirty  figure  Miss  Talbot  describes  him  to 
be;  which,  with  the  antiquity  of  his  dress, 
rendered  him  infinitely  formidable  to  all 
the  children  in  the  parish.  He  often  called 
upon  me  at  the  parsonage   house,  when  I 
happened  not  to  dine  in  the  family ;  hav- 
ing a  great,  and  as   it   seemed,   a  very 
favourite  point  to  carry,  which  was  no  less 
than  to  persuade  me  to  follow  his  example, 
and  to  turn  all  my  thoughts  and  studies 
to   venerable  antiquity ;  he  deemed  that 
the  summum  ionwm,  the  height  of  all  hu- 
man felicity.     I  used  to  entertain  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Cartwright  highly,  by  detailing  to 
them  Browne's  arguments  to  debauch  me 
from  the  pursuit  of  polite  literature,  and 
such   studies  as  were  most  agreeable  to 
my  turn  and  taste ;  and  by  parcelling  out 
every  morning  after  prayers  (we  had  daily 
prayers  at  eleven  in  the  church)  the  pro- 
gress Browne  had  made  the  day  before  in 
the  arts  of  seduction.    I  amused  him  with 
such  answers  as  I  thought  best  suited  to 
his  hobby-horse,  till  I  found  he  was  going 
to  leave  us ;  and  then,  by  a  stroke  or  two 
of  spirited  raillery,  lost  his  warm  heart  and 
his  advice  for  ever.      My  egging  him  on 
served  us,  however,  for  a  week's  excellent 
entertainment,    amid    the    dulness     and 


sameness  of  a  country  situation.  He  re- 
presented me  at  parting,  to  Mr.  Cart- 
wright,  as  one  incorrigible,  and  lost  be- 
yond all  hopes  of  recovery  to  every  thing 
truly  valuable  in  learning,  by  having  un- 
fortunately let  slip  that  I  preferred,  and 
feared  I  ever  should  prefer,  one  page  of 
Livy  or  Tacitus,  Sallust  or  Caesar,  to  all 
the  monkish  writers,  with  Bede  at  the 
head  of  them. 

"  quot  sunt  quotve  fuerunt 

Aut  quotquot  aliis  erunt  in  annis. 

Sic  explicit  Historiola  de  Brownio  Willisio!" 

An  Itinerary  of  Browne  Willis  "  in 
search  of  the  antique"  must  have  been 
excessively  amusing.  "  Among  the  in- 
numerable stories  that  are  told  of  him,  and 
the  difficulties  and  rebuffs  he  met  with  in 
his  favourite  pursuits,  the  following  may 
suffice  as  a  specimen  : — One  day  he  de- 
sired his  neighbour,  Mr.  Lowndes,  to  go 
with  him  to  one  of  his  tenants,  whose  old 
habitation  he  wanted  to  view.  A  coach 
driving  into  the  farm-yard  sufficiently 
alarmed  the  family,  who  betook  them- 
selves to  close  quarters ;  when  Browne 
Willis,  spying  a  woman  at  a  window, 
thrust  his  head  out  of  the  coach,  and  cried 
out,  *  Woman,  I  ask  if  you  have  got  no 
arms  in  your  house."  As  the  transaction 
happened  to  be  in  the  rebellion  of  1 745, 
when  searches  for  arms  were  talked  of,  the 
woman  was  still  less  pleased  with  her 
visitor,  and  began  to  talk  accordingly. 
When  Mr.  Lowndes  had  enjoyed  enough 
of  this  absurdity,  he  said,  *  Neighbour,  it 
is  rather  cold  sitting  here;  if  you  will  let 
me  put  my  head  out,  I  dare  say  we  shall 
do  our  business  much  better.'  So  the 
late  Dr.  Newcome,  going  in  his  coach 
through  one  of  the  villages  near  Cam- 
bridge, and  seeing  an  old  mansion,  called 
out  to  an  old  woman,  *  Woman,  is  this  a 
religious  house  ?  1 1  don't  know  what 
you  mean  by  a  religious  house,'  retorted 
the  woman ;  '  but  I  believe  the  house  is 
as  honest  an  house  as  any  of  yours  at 
Cambridge.'  " 

On  another  occasion,  "  Riding  over 
Mendip  or  Chedder,  he  came  to  a  church 
under  the  hill,  the  steeple  just  rising  above 
them,  and  near  twenty  acres  of  water  be- 
longing to  Mr.  Cox.  He  asked  a  country- 
man the  church's  name — '  Emburrough.' 
«  When  was  it  dedicated  ?'  <  Talk  Eng- 
lish, or  don't  talk  at  all.'  *  When  is  the 
ifivel  or  wake  ?'  The  fellow  thought,  as 
Miere  was  a  match  ut  quarter-staff  for  a 


307 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


308 


hat  in  the  neighbourhood,  he  intended  to 
make  one ;  and,  struck  with  his  mean  ap- 
pearance besides,  challenged  him  in  a 
rude  way,  and  so  they  parted.'  This 
anomalous  proposition  must  have  been  as 
embarrassing  as  the  situation  presumed  in 
the  play,  '  Dr.  Pangloss  in  a  tandem,with 
a  terrier  between  his  legs !'  " 


There  is  a  very  characteristic  anecdote 
of  Browne  Willis,  and  Humfrey  Wanley, 
a  man  of  singular  celebrity,  and  library 
keeper  to  the  literary  earl  of  Oxfoid  :  it 
js  of  Wanley's  own  relation  in  his  Diary. 
"Feb.  9,  1725-6.  Mr.  Browne  Willis 
came,  wanting  to  peruse  one  of  Holmes's 
MSS.  marked  L,  and  did  so ;  and  also 
L  2,  L  3,  and  L  4,  without  finding  what 
he  expected.  He  would  have  explained 
to  me  his  design  in  his  intended  book 
about  our  cathedrals ;  but  I  said  1  was 
about  my  lord's  necessary  business,  and 
had  not  leisure  to  spend  upon  any  matter 
foreign  to  that.  He  wanted  the  liberty 
to  look  over  Holmes's  MSS.  and  indeed 
over  all  this  library,  that  he  might  collect 
materials  for  amending  his  former  books, 
and  putting  forth  new  ones.  I  signified 
to  him  that  it  would  be  too  great  a  work  ; 
and  that  I,  having  business  appointed  me 
by  my  lord,  which  required  much  de- 
spatch, could  not  in  such  a  case  attend 
upon  him.  He  would  have  teazed  me 
here  this  whole  afternoon,  but  I  would 
not  suffer  him.  At  length  he  departed  in 
great  anger,  and  I  hope  to  be  rid  of  him." 
It  is  reported  of  the  lion,  that  he  is 
scared  by  the  braying  of  the  least  noble  of 
the  beasts. 


The  Rev.  Mr.  Gibberd  performed  the 
"  last  offices"  at  the  funeral  of  his  friend 
Dr.  Willis,  who  parted  from  life  "  with- 
out the  usual  agonies  of  death."  This 
gentleman  says,  "  He  breathed  almost 
his  last  with  the  most  earnest  and  ardent 
wishes  for  my  prosperity :  'Ah  !  Mr. 
Gibberd,  God  bless  you  for  ever,  Mr. 
Gibberd  !'  were  almost  the  last  words  of 
my  dying  friend."  Mr.  Gibberd's  cha- 
racter of  him  may  close  these  notices. 
"  He  was  strictly  religious,  without  any 
mixture  of  superstition  or  enthusiasm. 
The  honour  of  God  was  his  prime  view 
in  almost  every  action  of  his  life.  He 
was  a  constant  frequenter  of  the  church, 
and  never  absented  himself  from  the  holy 
communion  ;  and  as  to  the  reverence  he 


had  for  places  more  immediately  set  apart 
for  religious  duties,  it  is  needless  to  men- 
tion what  his  many  public  works,  in  build- 
ing, repairing,  and  beautifying  churches, 
are  standing  evidences  of.  In  the  time  of 
health  he  called  his  family  together  every 
evening,  and,  besides  his  private  devo- 
tions in  the  morning,  he  always  retired 
into  his  closet  in  the  afternoon  at  about 
four  or  five  o'clock.  In  his  intercourse 
with  men,  he  was  in  every  respect,  as  far 
as  I  could  judge,  very  upright.  He  was 
a  good  landlord,  and  scarce  ever  raised 
his  rents  ;  and  that  his  servants,  likewise, 
have  no  reason  to  complain  of  their  mas- 
ter, is  evident  from  the  long  time  they 
generally  lived  with  him.  He  had  many 
valuable  and  good  friends,  whose  kind- 
ness he  always  acknowledged.  And 
though,  perhaps,  he  might  have  some 
dispute,  with  a  few  people,  the  reason  of 
which  it  would  be  disagreeable  to  enter 
into,  yet  it  is  with  great  satisfaction  that 
I  can  affirm  that  he  was  perfectly  reconciled 
with  every  one.  He  was,  with  regard  to 
himself,  peculiarly  sober  and  temperate ; 
and  he  has  often  told  me,  that  he  denied 
himself  many  things,  that  he  might  be- 
stow them  better.  Indeed,  he  appeared 
to  me  to  have  no  greater  regard  to  money 
than  as  it  furnished  him  with  an  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  good.  He  supplied 
yearly  three  charity  schools  at  Whaddon, 
Bletchley,  and  Fenny-Stratford  :  and  be- 
sides what  he  constantly  gave  at  Christ- 
mas, he  was  never  backward  in  relieving 
his  poor  neighbours  with  both  wine  and 
money  when  they  were  sick,  or  in  any 
kind  of  distress."  Thus,  then,  may  end 
the  few  memorials  that  have  been  thrown 
together  regarding  an  estimable  though 
eccentric  gentleman  "  of  the  old  school." 
If  he  did  not  adorn  society  by  his  "man- 
ners," he  enriched  our  stores  of  know- 
ledge, and  posterity  have  justly  conferred 
on  his  memory  a  reputation  for  antiqua- 
rian attainments  which  few  can  hope  to 
acquire,  because  few  have  the  industry  to 
cultivate  so  thorough  an  intimacy  with 
the  venerable  objects  of  their  acquaint- 
ance. 


An  "  antiquary"  is  usually  alarming. 
Those  who  are  not  acquainted  with  him 
personally,  imagine  that  he  is  necessarily 
dull,  tasteless,  and  passionless.  Yet  this 
conception  might  be  dissipated  by  refer- 
ence to  the  memoirs  of  the  eminent  de- 
parted, 01  by  courting  the  society  of  tJ» 


309 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


distinguished  living.     A   citation  in  the 
notice  of  Grose*  tells  us  that 

"  society  droops  for  the  loss  of  his  jest  :•» 
that  antiquary's   facetiousness    enlivened 
the  dullest  company,  and  with  the  con- 
vivial he  was  the  most  jovial.     Pennant's 
numerous  works  bear  internal  evidence  of 
his  pleasant  mindedness.     Jacob  Bryant, 
"   famous     for    his    extensive    learning, 
erudition,"  and  profound    investigations 
concerning  "  Heathe'n  Mythology,"  and 
the  situation  and  siege  of  "  Troy,"  was 
one   of  the   mildest   and   most   amiable 
beings :  his  society  was  coveted  by  youth 
and  age,  until  the  termination  of  his  life, 
in  his   eighty-ninth   year.     Among   the 
illustrious  lovers  of  classic  or  black  letter 
lore,  were  the  witty  arid  humorous  George 
Steevens,  the  editor  of  Shakspeare ;  Dr. 
Richard  Farmer,    the  learned  author  of 
the  masterly  "  Essay  on  the  Genius  and 
Learning  of  Shakspeare,"    is   renowned 
by  the  few  who  remember  him  for  the 
ease   and   variety   of    his   conversation; 
Samuel  Paterson,  the  celebrated  biblio- 
polist,  was  full  of  anecdote  and  drollery ; 
and  the  placid  and  intelligent  Isaac  Reed, 
the  discriminating  editor  of"  the  immortal 
bard  of  Avon,"  graced  every  circle  wherein 
he  moved.     It  might  seem  to  assume  an 
intimacy  which  the  editor  of  this  work 
does  not  pretend  to,  were  he  to  mention 
instances  of  social  excellence  among  the 
prying  investigators  of  antiquity  yet  alive : 
one,  however,  he  cannot  forbear  to  name — 
the  venerable  octogenarian  John  Nichols, 
esq.  F.S.A.  of  whom  he  only  knows,  in 
common  with  all  who  have  read  or  heard 
of  him,  as  an   example  of  cheerfulness 
and  amenity  during  a  life  of  unwearied 
perseverance   in    antiquarian  researches, 
and  the  formation  of  multiform  collections, 
which  have  added  more  to  general  infor- 
mation, and  created  a  greater  number  of 
inquirers  on  such  subjects,  than  the  united 
labours  of  his  early  contemporaries. 

Still  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  seclu- 
sion, wholly  employed  on  the  founda- 
tions of  the  dead,  and  the  manners  of 
other  times,  has  a  tendency  to  unfit  such 
devotees  for  easy  converse,  when  they 
seek  to  recreate  by  adventuring  into  the 
world.  Early-acquired  and  long-con- 
tinued severity  of  study,  whether  of  the 
learned  languages,  or  antiquities,  or  sci- 
ence, or  nature,  if  it  exclude  other  inti- 
macies, is  unfavourable  to  personal  ap- 


*  Vol.  i.  p.  658. 


310 

pearance  and  estimation.  The  mere  scho- 
lar, the  mere  mathematician,  and  the  mere 
antiquary,  easily  obtain  reputations  foi 
eccentricity ;  but  there  are  numerous  in- 
dividuals of  profound  abstraction,  and 
erudite  inquiry,  who  cultivate  the  under- 
standing, or  the  imagination,  or  the  heart, 
who  are,  in  manner,  so  little  different  from 
others,  that  they  are  scarcely  suspected  by 
the  unknown  and  the  self-sufficient  of 
being  better  or  wiser  than  themselves. 
Hence,  "  in  company,"  the  individual 
whom  all  the  world  agrees  to  look  on  as 
"  The  Great  Unknown,"  may  be  scarcely 
thought  of,  as  "The  Antiquary"— the 
"  President  of  the  Royal  Society"  pass  for 
"quite  a  lady's  man"— andELiA  be  only 
regarded  as  "  a  gentleman  that  loves  a 
joke  !" 

NATURE  AND  ART. 

"  Buy  my  images  !" 
"  Art  improves  nature,"  is  an  old  pro- 
verb which  our  forefathers  adopted  with- 
out reflection,  and  obstinately  adhered  to 
as  lovers  of  consistency.  The  capacity 
and  meshes  of  their  brain  were  too  small 
to  hold  many  great  truths,  but  they  caught 
a  great  number  of  little  errors,  and  this 
was  one.  They  bequeathed  it  to  "  their 
children  and  their  children's  children," 
who  inherited  it  till  they  threw  away  the 
wisdom  of  their  ancestors  with  their  wigs; 
left  off  hair  powder;  and  are  now  leaving 
off  the  sitting  in  hot  club  rooms,  for  the 
sake  of  sleep,  and  exercise  in  the  fresh 
air.  There  seems  to  be  a  general  insur- 
rection against  the  unnatural  improve- 
ment of  nature.  We  let  ourselves  and 
our  trees  grow  out  of  artificial  forms,  and 
no  longer  sit  in  artificial  arbours,  with 
entrances  like  that  of  the  cavern  at  Black- 
heath  hill,  or,  as  we  may  even  still  see 
them,  if  we  pay  a  last  visit  to  the  dying 
beds  of  a  few  old  tea-gardens.  We 
know  more  than  those  who  lived  before 
us,  and  if  we  are  not  happier,  we  are  on 
the  way  to  be  so.  Wisdom  is  happiness : 
but  "  he  that  increaseth  knowledge,  in- 
creaseth  sorrow."  Knowledge  is  not  wis- 
dom ;  it  is  only  the  rough  material  of 
wisdom.  It  must  be  shaped  by  reflection 
and  judgment,  before  it  can  be  constructed 
into  an  edifice  fitting  for  the  mind  to 
dwell  in,  and  take  up  its  rest.  This,  as 
our  old  discourses  used  to  say,  "  brings 
us  to  our  subject." 

"  Buy  my  images  /"  or,  "  Pye  m'im- 
aitches,"  was,  and  is,  a  '»  London  cry,"  by 
Italian  lads  carrying  boards  on  their  hearts-, 


311 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


312 


with  plaster  figures  for  sale.  "  In  my 
time,"  one  of  these  "  images"  (it  usually 
occupied  a  corner  of  the  board)  was  a 
•«  Polly"— 


A  lengthened  mass  became  by  colourable 
show,  "  a  dog"— like  ingenuity  might 
have  tortured  it  into  a  devil.  The  feline 
race  were  of  two  shapes  and  in  three 
sizes  ;  the  middle  one — like  physic  in  a 
bottle,  "  when  taken,  to  be  well  shaken," 
moved  its  chalk  head,  to  the  wonder  and 
delight  of  all  urchins,  until  they  informed 
themselves  of  its  "  springs  of  action,"  at 
the  price  of  "  only  a  penny,"  and,  by 
breaking  it,  discovered  that  the  nodding 
knob  achieved  its  un-cat-like  motion,  by 
being  hung  with  a  piece  of  wire  to  the 
interior  of  its  hollow  body.  The  lesser 
cat  was  not  so  very  small,  considering  its 
price — «  a  farthing  :"— I  speak  of  when 
battered  button  tops  represented  that 
plentiful  "  coin  of  the  realm."  Then 
there  was  the  largest 


3  parrot 

This  representative  of  the  most  "  po- 
pular" of  "  all  the  winged  inhabitants  of 
air,"  might  have  been  taken  for  the  like- 
ness of  some  species  between  an  owl  and 
the  booby-bird  ;  but  then  the  wings  and 
back  were  coloured  with  a  lively  green, 
and  the  under  part  had  yellow  streaks, 
and  the  beak  was  of  a  red  colour,  and 
any  colour  did  for  the  eyes,  if  they  were 
larger  than  they  ought  to  have  been.  "  In 
my  time"  too,  there  was  an  "  image"  of  a 
"  fine  bow  pot,"  consisting  of  half  a 
dozen  green  shapes  like  halbert  tops  for 
"  make  believe"  leaves,  spreading  like  a 
half  opened  fan,  from  a  knot  "  that  was 
not,"  inasmuch  as  it  was  delicately  con- 
cealed by  a  tawny  coloured  ball  called  an 
orange,  which  pretended  to  rest  on  a 
clumsy  clump  of  yellowed  plaster  as  on 
the  mouth  of  a  jar — the  whole  looking  as 
unlike  a  nosegay  in  water  as  possible. 
Then,  too,  there  was  a  sort  of  obelisk 
with  irregular  projections  and  curves ; 
the  top,  being  smaller  than  the  bottom, 
was  marked  out  with  paint  into  a  sort  of 
face,  and,  by  the  device  of  divers  colours,  it 
was  bonnetted,  armed,  waisted,  and  pet- 
ticoated — this  was  called  a  "  fine  lady." 


Cat. 

The  present  representation  favours  the 
image  too  much.  Neither  this  engraving, 
nor  that  of  the  "  parrot,"  is  sufficiently 
like — the  artist  says  he  "  could  not  draw  it 
bad  enough  :"  what  an  abominable  defi- 
ciency is  the  want  of  "  an  eye" — heigho! 
Then  there  were  so  many  things,  that  were 
not  likenesses  of  any  thing  of  which  they 
were  "  images,"  and  so  many  years  and 
cares  have  rolled  over  my  head  and  heart, 
that  I  have  not  recollection  or  time  enough 
for  their  description.  They  are  all  gone, 
or  going — "  going  out"  or  "  gone  out  '* 
for  ever  !  Personal  remembrance  is  the 


313 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


314 


frail  and  only  memorial  of  the  existence 
of  some  of  these  "  ornaments"  of  the 
humble  abodes  of  former  times. 

The  masterpieces  on  the  board  of  the 
"  image-man,"  were  "  a  pair," — at  that 
time  "  matchless."  They  linger  yet,  at 
the  extreme  corners  of  a  few  mantle- 
pieces,  with  probably  a  "  sampler"  be- 
tween, and,  over  that,  a  couple  of  feathers 
from  Juno's  bird,  gracefully  adjusted 
into  a  St.  Andrew's  cross — their  two  gor- 
geous eyes  giving  out  "  beautiful  colours," 
to  the  beautiful  eyes  of  innocent  children. 
The  '•  images,'*1  spoken  of  as  still  in  being, 
are  of  the  colossal  height  of  eighteen 
inches,  more  or  less  :  they  personate  the 
"  human  form  divine,"  and  were  designed, 
perhaps,  by  Hayman,  but  their  moulds 
are  so  worn  that  the  casts  are  unfeatured, 
and  they  barely  retain  their  bodily  sem- 
blance. They  are  always  painted  black, 
save  that  a  scroll  on  each,  which  depends 
from  a  kind  of  altar,  is  left  white.  One 
of  Jhe  inscriptions  says, 

"Into   the   heaven  of  heavens  I  have  pre- 
sumed, &c." 

and  all,  except  the  owners,  admire  the 
presumption.  The  "  effigy"  looks  as  if  the 
man  had  been  up  the  chimney,  and,  in- 
stead of  having  "  drawn  empyrean  air," 
had  taken  a  glass  too  much  of  Hodges's 
"  Imperial,"  and  wrapped  himself  in  the 
soot-bag  to  conceal  his  indulgence  and  his 
person— this  is  "  Milton."  The  other,  in 
like  sables,  points  to  his  inscription,  be- 
ginning, 

"  The   cloud-capt  towers,     the  gorgeous 
palaces,  &c." 

is  an    "insubstantial  pageant"   of  "the 

anmortal  Shakspeare," 

"  cheated  of  feature  by  dissembling  nature," 


through  the  operation  of  time. 

"  Such  were  the  forms  that  o'er  th*  incrusted 

souls 
Of  our  forefathers  scatter 'd/ond  delight." 

Price,  and  Alison,  and  Knight,  have 
generalized  "  taste"  for  high-life;  while 
those  of  the  larger  circle  have  acquired 
"  taste  "  from  manifold  representations 
and  vehicles  of  instruction,  and  compre- 
hend the  outlines,  if  they  do  not  take  in 
the  details  of  natural  objects.  This  is 
manifested  by  the  almost  universal  disuse 
of  the  "  images  "  described.  With  the 
inhabitants  of  every  district  in  the  me- 
tropolis, agreeable  forms  are  now  abso- 
lute requisites,  and  the  demand  has  in- 
duced their  supply.  There  are,  perhaps, 
as  many  casts  from  the  Medicean  Venus, 
Apollo  Belvidere,  Antinous,  the  Gladia- 
tor, and  other  beauties  of  ancient  sculpture, 
within  the  parish  of  St.  George,  in  the 
East,  as  in  the  parish  of  St.  George,  Han- 
over-square. They  are  reposited  over  the 
fire-places,  or  on  the  tables,  of  neighbour- 
hoods, wherein  the  uncouth  cat,  and  the 
barbarous  parrot  were,  even  "  in  my  time," 
desirable  "  images."  The  moulds  of 
the  greater  number  of  these  deformities, 
are  probably  destroyed.  It  was  with 
difficulty  that  the  "cat"  could  be  ob- 
tained for  the  preceding  column,  and  an 
"  image"  of  the  u  parrot"  was  not  pro- 
curable from  an  "  image-man."  Inven- 
tion has  been  resorted  to  for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  popular  desire  :  two  plaster  casts 
of  children,  published  in  the  autumn  of 
1825,  have  met  with  unparalleled  sale. 
To  record  the  period  of  their  origin  they 
are  represented  in  the  annexed  engraving, 
and,  perhaps,  they  may  be  so  perpetuated 
when  the  casts  themselves  shall  have  dis- 
appeared, in  favour  of  others  more  ele- 
gant. 


The  "  common  people"  have  become  uncommon  ; 

A  few  remain,  just  here  and  there,  the  rest 
Are  polish'd  and  refined :  child,  man,  and  woman, 

All,  imitate  the  manners  of  the  best ; 
Picking  up,  sometimes,  good  things  from  their  betters, 

As  they  have  done  from  them.     Then  they  have  books  ; 
As  'twas  design'd  they  should,  when  taught  their  letters ; 

And  nature's  self  befriends  their  very  looks  : 
And  all  this  must,  and  all  this  ought  to  be — 

Tlie  only  use  of  eyes,  I  know  of,  is — to  see. 


SI  5 


THE  LVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  6. 


w 


?RS^ 


Street 


m  1826. 


Height  of  each  16  incl"?s  and  a  half. 


When  these  agreeable  figures  first  ap- 
peared, the  price  obtained  for  them  was 
four  shillings.  As  the  sale  slackened  they 
were  sold  for  three  shillings;  now,  in 
March,  1826,  the  pair  may  be  bought 
for  two  shillings,  or  eighteen  pence. 
The  consequence  of  this  cheapness  is, 
that  there  is  scarcely  a  house  without 
them. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  society 
is  improving  in  every  direction.  As  I 
hinted  before,  we  have  a  great  deal  to 
learn,  and  something  to  unlearn.  It  is  in 
many  respects  untrue,  that  "  art  improves 
nature  ;"  while  in.many  important  respects 
it  is  certain,  that  "  nature  improves  art." 


The  Brothers. 
There    a.e    things   in    nature 


wh'ch 


the  human  voice  can  scarcely  trust 
itself  to  relate ;  which  art  never  can 
represent,  and  the  pen  can  only  feebly  de- 
scribe. Such  a  scene  occurred  at  Lyons, 
in  the  year  1794. 

The  place  of  confinement  to  which  those 
were  hurried,who  had  been  condemned  to 
suffer  by  the  revolutionary  tribunal,  was 
called  "the  Cave  of  Death."  A  boy  not  fif- 
teen years  of  age  was  sent  thither.  He  had 
been  one  of  the  foremost  in  a  sortie  made 
during  the  siege,  and  for  this  was  doomed 
to  perish.  His  little  brother,  scarcely  six 
years  old, who  had  been  accustomed  to 
visit  him  at  his  former  prison,  no  longer 
finding  him  there,  came  and  called  at  the 
iron  grate  of  the  vault.  His  brother  heard 
him,  and  came  to  the  grate :  the  pooi 
infant  passed  his  little  hands  between 
the  vast  bars  to  embrace  him,  while  the 


317 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  7. 


31ft 


elder  raising  himself  on  the  points  of  his 
feet  could  just  reach  to  kiss  them.  "  My 
dear  brother,"  said  the  child,  "  arl  thou 
going  to  die,  and  shall  I  see  thee  no 
more  ?  why  didn't  you,  tell  them  that  you 
are  not  yet  fifteen?" — "I  did,  brother,  I 
said  all  that  I  could  say,  but  they  would 
hear  nothing.  Carry  a  kiss  to  my 
mother,  and  try  to  comfort  her ;  nothing 
grieves  me  but  that  I  leave  her  ill ;  but 
don't  tell  her  yet,  that  I  am  going  to  die." 
The  child  was  drowned  in  tears,  his  little 


heart  seemed  ready  to  burst : — "  Good- 
by,  brother,"  he  repeated  again  and 
again ;  "  but  I'm  afraid  you  didn't  say 
that  you  are  not  yet  fifteen." — He  was  at 
length  so  suffocated  with  sobs  that  he 
could  speak  no  more,  and  went  away. 
Every  one  who  passed  by,  seeing  his  dis- 
tress, asked  him  what  was  the  matter. 
"  Tis  the  wicked  men  that  make  me 
cry,"  said  he  ;  "  they  are  going  to  kill 
my  brother  who  is  so  good,  and  who  is 
not  yet  fifteen." 


With  any  being  of  a  human  form, 

Who,  reading  such  a  narrative  as  this 

Could  be  unshaken  to  the  inmost  soul, 

I  would  not  share  a  roof,  nor  sit,  nor  stand, 

Nor  converse  hold,  by  word,  or  look,  or  pen. 

Well,  Reader !  thou  hast  read — hast  thou  no  tears ! 

If  thou  wert  stranger  to  the  tale  till  now, 

And  weep'st  not — go  !  I  dare  not,  will  not,  know  thee 

Thy  manner  may  be  gentle,  but  thy  heart 

Is  ripe  for  cruelty — Go  hence,  I  say ! 


7. 

The  Season. 

The  earth  has  now  several  productions 
for  our  gratification,  if  we  stoop  to  gather 
and  examine  them.  Young  botanists 
should  commence  their  inquiries  before 


the  season  pours  in  its  abundance.  They 
who  are  admirers  of  natural  beauties,  may 
daily  discover  objects  of  delightful  regard 
in  the  little  peeping  plants  which  escape 
the  eye,  unless  their  first  appearance  is 
narrowly  looked  for. 


The  Primrose. 
Welcome,  pale  Primrose !  starting  up  between 

Dead  matted  leaves  of  ash  and  oak,  that  strew 

The  every  lawn,  the  wood,  and  spinney  through, 
'Mid  creeping  moss  and  ivy's  darker  green ; 

How  much  thy  presence  beautifies  the  ground : 
How  sweet  thy  modest,  unaffected  pride 
Glows  on  the  sunny  bank,  and  wood's  warm  side. 

And  when  thy  fairy  flowers,  in  groups,  are  found, 
The  schoolboy  roams  enchantedly  along, 

Plucking  the  fairest  with  a  rude  delight : 
While  the  meek  shepherd  stops  his  simple  song, 

To  gaze  a  moment  on  the  pleasing  sight ; 
O'erjoy'd  to  see  the  flowers  that  truly  bring 
The  welcome  news  of  sweet  returning  spring  ! 


Clare. 


It  is  remarked  by  the  lady  of  the 
"  Flora  Domestica,"  that  "  this  little 
flower,  in  itself  so  fair,  shows  yet  fairer 
from  the  early  season  of  its  appearance ; 
peeping  forth  even  from  the  retreating 
snows  of  winter  :  it  forms  a  happy  shade 
of  union  between  the  delicate  snowdrop 
and  the  flaming  crocus,  which  also  ven- 
ture forth  in  the  very  dawn  of  spring." 
The  elegant  authoress  observes  further: 
"  There  are  many  varieties  of  the  prim- 


rose, so  called,  (the  polyanthus  and  auri- 
cular, though  bearing  other  names,  are 
likewise  varieties,)  but  the  most  common 
are  the  sulphur-coloured  and  the  lilac. 
The  lilac  primrose  does  not  equal  the 
other  in  beauty  :  we  do  not  often  find  it 
wild  ;  it  is  chiefly  known  to  us  as  a  gar- 
den-flower. It  is  indeed  the  sulphur- 
coloured  primrose  which  we  particularly 
understand  by  that  name  :  it  is  the  prim- 
rose :  it  is  this  which  we  associate  with 


319  THE  EVBRY-DAY  BOOK  .—MARCH  8.  320 

the  cowslips  and  the  meadows  :  it  is  this  without  recurring  to  something  that  has 
which  shines  like  an  earth-star  from  the  an  interest  in  our  hearts ;  such  are  the 
grass  by  the  brook  side,  lighting  the  hand  primrose,  the  cowslip,  the  May-flower, 
to  pluck  it.  We  do  indeed  give  the  name  the  daisy,  &c.  &c.  The  poets  have  not 
of  primrose  to  the  lilac  flower,  but  we  do  neglected  to  pay  due  honours  to  this 
this  in  courtesy  :  we  feel  that  it  is  not  the  sweet  spring-flower,  which  unites  in 
primrose  of  our  youth ;  not  the  primrose  itself  such  delicacy  of  form,  colour, 
with  which  we  have  played  at  bo-peep  and  fragrance ;  they  give  it  a  forlorn 
in  the  woods ;  not  the  irresistible  prim-  and  pensive  character.  The  poems  ot 
rose  which  has  so  often  lured  our  young  Clare  are  as  thickly  strewn  with  prim- 
feet  into  the  wet  grass,  and  procured  us  roses  as  the  woods  themselves ;  the  two 
coughs  and  chid  ings.  There  is  a  senti-  following  passages  are  from  "  The  Village 
ment  in  flowers:  there  are  flowers  we  Minstrel." 
cannot  look  upon,  or  even  hear  named, 

"  O,  who  can  speak  his  joys  when  spring's  young  morn 

From  wood  and  pasture  opened  on  his  view, 

When  tender  green  buds  blush  upon  the  thorn, 

And  the  first  primrose  dips  its  leaves  in  dew 


"  And  while  he  pluck'd  the  primrose  in  its  pride, 

He  ponder'd  o'er  its  bloom  'twixt  joy  and  pain ; 
And  a  rude  sonnet  in  its  praise  he  tried, 

Where  nature's  simple  way  the  aid  of  art  supplied." 

the   fresh    and   open   air,    which   never 

NATURALISTS    CALENDAR.  «  comes  to  town>»     Residents  in  cities, 

Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  54.  therefore,  must  seek  it  at  some  distance 

.^        v    o  from  their  abodes  ;  and  those  who  cannot, 

^TlHrtl)  O.  may  derive  some  pleasure  from  a  sonnet, 

At  this  season  there  is  a  sweetness  in    by  the  rural  bard  quoted  just  now. 

Approach  of  Spring. 
Sweet  are  the  omens  of  approaching  Spring 

When  gay  the  elder  sprouts  her  winged  leaves 
When  tootling  robins  carol-welcomes  sing, 

And  sparrows  chelp  glad  tidings  from  the  eaves. 
What  lovely  prospects  wait  each  wakening  hour, 

When  each  new  day  some  novelty  displays, 
How  sweet  the  sun-beam  melts  the  crocus  flower, 

Whose  borrowed  pride  shines  dizen'd  in  his  rays  : 
Sweet,  new-laid  hedges  flush  their  tender  greens  : 
Sweet  peep  the  arum-leaves  their  shelter  screens  : 

Ah  !  sweet  is  all  that  I'm  denied  to  share : 
Want's  painful  hindrance  sticks  me  to  her  stall ; — 

But  still  Hope's  smiles  unpoint  the  thorns  of  Care 
Since  Heaven's  eternal  spring  is  free  from  all !  Clare. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  05 


321 


THE  EVERY-DAY  'BOOK.— MARCH  0. 


322 


ffATURAtlSTS'    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  15. 


THE  ELEPHANT, 

fce  laflj  fceaJi  at  e^ter 


In  the  'position  he  liked  best 
'He  seem'd  to  drop,  to  sudden  rest  ; 
NOT  bow'd  his  neck,  but  still  a  sense 
Retain'd  of  his  magnificence  ; 
For,  as  he  fell,  he  raised  his  head 
And  held  it,  as  in  life,  when  dead. 

VISIT  TO  MR.  CROSS;  PROPRIETOR  OF  THE  ELEPHANT. 


The  most  remarkable  incident  in  the 
metropolis,  since  "the  panic''  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Royal  Exchange, 
in  January,  1826,  was  the  death  of  the 
celebrated  elephant  at  Exeter  Change.,  .in 
March  of  the  same  year;  not  that  it  is 
attempted  to  insinuate  comparison  be- 
tween these  events,  as  to  their  nature  or  con- 
sequences, but  it  may  fairly  be  observed, 

VOL.  TL— 63. 


that  each  produced  what  is  commonly 
called  "  a  sensation  "  in  town  and  coun- 
try, and  that  each  originated  in  peculiar 
excitement. 

Wishing  to  record  the  death  of  the 
elephant  in  this  work,  and  to  relate  only 
what  is  true,  I  resorted  to  Mr.  Cross, 
whose  menagerie  has  sustained  a  bereave 
ment  that  can  only  be  supplied,  if  it -ever 


325 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


3'24 


can  be  supplied,  at  a  vast  expense,  and 
after  a  long  lapse  of  time.  On  explaining 
my  wish  and  purpose,  Mr.  Cross  readily 
assented  to  furnish  me  with  the  informa- 
tion I  desired,  and  communicated  the  fol- 
lowing particulars.  I  committed  them  to 
paper  during  my  interviews,  and  after 
digesting  them  into  order,  submitted  the 
whole  to  his  revision.  Except  as  to  mere 
language  and  occasional  illustrations,  the 
narrative  is,  in  fact,  the  narrative  of  Mr. 
Cross.  It  differs  in  many  essential  re- 
spects from  other  accounts,  but  it  only  so 
differs,  because  every  statement  is  accu- 
rately related  from  Mr.  Cross's  lips.  Cir- 
cumstances which  occurred  during  his 
temporary  absence  at  the  critical  moment, 
were  supplied  to  me  in  his  presence 
by  Mr.  Tyler,  the  gentleman  who 
arranged  and  cooperated  with  Mr.  Her- 
ring, during  the  exigency  that  rendered 
the  destruction  of  the  elephant  imperative. 

The  first  owner  of  the  lordly  animal, 
now  no  more,  was  Mr.  Harris,  pro- 
prietor of  Covent-garden  theatre.  He 
purchased  it  in  July,  1810,  for  nine  hun- 
dred guineas  on  its  arrival  in  England, 
aboard  the  Astel,  Captain  Hay,  and  the 
elephant  "came  out  as  a  public  per- 
former the  same  year,  in  the  procession 
of  a  grand  pantomime,  called  "  Harle- 
quin Padmanaba."  Mrs.  Henry  John- 
stone  was  his  graceful  rider,  and  he  was 
"  played  up  to  "  by  the  celebrated  colum- 
bine, Mrs.  Parker,  whose  husband  had  a 
joint  interest  with  Mr.  Harris  in  the  new 
performer.  During  his  "  engagement"  at 
this  theatre,  Mr.  Polito  "  signed  articles" 
with  Messrs.  Harris  and  Parker  for  his 
further  "appearance  in  public"  at  the 
Royal  Menagerie,  Exeter  Change.  On 
the  death  of  Mr.  Polito,  in  1814,  Mr. 
Cross,  who  for  twenty  years  had  been 
superintendent  of  the  concern,  became 
its  purchaser,  and  the  elephant,  thus 
transferred,  remained  with  Mr.  Cross  till 
the  termination  of  his  life.  From 
his  "  last  farewell  "  to  the  public  at 
Covent-garden  theatre,  he  was  stationary 
at  the  menagerie,  from  whence  he  was 
never  removed,  and,  consequently,  he  was 
never  exhibited  at  any  other  place. 

On  the  elephant's  first  arrival  from  In- 
dia he  had  two  keepers  ;  these  accompa- 
nied him  to  Exeter  Change,  and  to  their 
controul  he  implicitly  submitted,  until  the 
death  of  one  of  them,  within  the  first  year 
after  Mr.  Cross's  proprietorship,  when  the 
animal's  increasing  bulk  and  strength 
rendered  it  necessary  to  enlarge  his  den, 


or  rather  to  construct  a  new  one.  The 
bars  of  the  old  one  were  not  thicker  than 
a  man's  arm.  With  Mr.  Harrison,  the 
carpenter,  who  built  his  new  den,  and 
with  whom  he  had  formed  a  previous  in- 
timacy, he  was  remarkably  docile,  and 
accommodated  himself  to  his  wishes  in 
every  respect.  He  was  occasionally 
troublesome  to  his  builder  from  love  of 
play,  but  the  prick  of  a  gimblet  was  an 
intimation  he  obeyed,  till  a  desire  for 
fresh  frolic  prompted  him  to  further  inter- 
ference, and  then  a  renewal  of  the  hint, 
or  some  trifling  eatable  from  the  carpen- 
ter's pocket,  abated  the  interruption.  In 
this  way  they  went  on  together  till  the 
work  was  completed,  and  while  the  ele- 
phant retained  his  senses,  he  was  happy 
in  every  opportunity  that  afforded  him  the 
society  of  his  friend  Harrison.  The  den 
thus  erected  will  be  particularized  pre- 
sently :  it  was  that  wherein  he  remained 
till  his  death. 

About  six  years  ago  this  elephant  indi- 
cated an  excitement  which  is  natural  to 
the  species',  and  which  prevails  every  year 
for  a  short  season.  At  the  period  now 
spoken  of,  his  keeper  having  gone  into 
his  den  to  exhibit  him,  the  animal  refused 
obedience  ;  on  striking  him  with  a  slight 
cane,  as  usual,  the  elephant  violently 
threw  him  down :  another  keeper  seeing 
the  danger,  tossed  a  pitchfork  to  his  com- 
rade, which  the  animal  threw  aside  like 
a  straw.  A  person  then  .ran  to  alarm 
Mr.  Cross,  who  hurried  down  stairs,  and 
catching  up  a  shovel,  struck  the  animal 
violently  on  the  head,  and  suddenly  seiz- 
ing the  prostrated  man,  dragged  him  from 
the  den,  and  saved  his  life. 

This  was  the  first  appearance  of  those 
annual  paroxysms,  wherein  the  elephant, 
whether  wild  or  confined,  becomes  in- 
furiated. At  such  a  period  it  is  custom- 
ary in  India  to  liberate  the  elephants  and 
let  them  run  to  the  forests,  whence,  on 
the  conclusion  of  the  fit,  they  usually  re- 
turn to  their  wonted  subjection.  Such 
an  experiment  being  impossible  with  Mr. 
Cross,  he  resorted  to  pharmacy,  and,  in 
the  course  of  fifty-two  hours,  succeed- 
ed in  deceiving  his  patient  into  the 
taking  of  twenty-four  pounds  of  salts, 
twenty-four  pounds  of  treacle,  six  ounces 
of  calomel,  an  ounce  and  a  half  of  tartar 
emetic,  and  six  drams' of  powder  of  gam- 
boge.  To  this  he  added  a  bottle  of 
croton  oil,  the  most  potent  cathartic  per- 
haps  in  existence ;  of  this,  a  full  dram 
was  administered,  which  alone  is  suffi- 


325 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


326 


cient  for  at  least  sixty  full  doses  to  thjQ 
human  being;  yet,  though  united  with  the 
preceding  enormous  quantity  of  other 
medicine,  it  operated  no  apparent  effect. 
At  this  juncture  Mr.  Nylew,  a  native 
East  Indian,  and  a  man  of  talent,  sug- 
gested to  Mr.  Cross  the  administration  of 
animal  oil,  as  a  medicine  of  efficacy. 
Six  pounds  of  marrow  from  beef  bones 
were  accordingly  placed  within  his  reach, 
as  if  it  had  been  left  by  accident ;  the 
liquorish  beast,  who  would  probably  have 
refused  it  had  it  been  tendered  him  an 
his  food,  swallowed  the  bait.  The  resiilt 
justified  Mr.  Nyleve's  prediction.  To 
my  inquiry  whether  the  marrow  had  not 
accelerated  an  operation  which  would 
have  succeeded  the  previous  administra- 
tion, Mr.  Cross  answered,  that  he  believed 
the  beef  marrow  was  the  really  active 
medicine,  because,  after  an  interval  of 
three  weeks,  he  gave  the  same  quantity 
wholly  unaccompanied,  and  the  same 
aperient  effect  followed.  He  never,  how- 
ever, could  repeat  the  experiment ;  for 
the  elephant  in  successive  .years  wholly 
refused  the  marrow,  however  attempted 
to  be  disguised,  or  with  whatever  it  was 
mixed. 

In  subsequent  years,  during  these  pe- 
riods of  excitement,  the  paroxysms  suc- 
cessively increased  in  duration ;  but 
there  was  no  increase  of  violence  until 
the  present  year,  when  the  symptoms  be- 
came more  alarming,  and  medicine  pro- 
duced no  diminution  of  the  animal's 
heightened  rage.  On  Sunday,  (the  26th 
of  February,)  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  cal- 
omel was  given  to  him  in  gruel.  Three 
grains  of  this  is  a  dose  for  a  man ;  and 
though  the  entire  quantity  given  to  the 
elephant  was  more  than  equal  to  six  hun- 
dred of  those  doses,  it  failed  of  pro- 
ducing in  him  any  other  effect  than  ex- 
treme suspicion  of  any  food  that  was 
tendered  to  him,  if  it  at  all  varied  in  ap- 
pearance from  what  he  was  accustomed 
to  at  other  times.  On  Monday  morning 
some  warm  ale  was  offered  him  in  a 
bucket,  for  the  purpose  of  assisting  the 
operation  of  the  calomel,  but  he  would 
not  touch  it  till  Cartmell,  his  keeper, 
drank  a  portion  of  the  liquor  himself, 
when  he  readily  took  it.  The  fluid  did 
not  appear  to  accelerate  the  wished-for 
object ;  and,  in  fact,  the  calomel  wholly 
failed  to  operate.  Though  in  a  state  of 
constant  irritation,  he  remained  tolerably 
quiet  throughout  Monday  and  Tuesday, 
until  Wednesday,  the  1st  of  March,  when 


additional  medicine  became  necessary, 
and  Mrs, -Cross  conceived  the  thought  of 
giving  it  to  him  through  some  person 
whom  the  elephant  had  not  seen,  .and 
whom  therefore  he  might  regard  as  a 
casual  visiter,  and  not  suspect.  To  a 
certain  extent  the  feint  succeeded.  She 
sent  some  buns  to  him  by  a  strange  lad, 
in  one  of  which  a  quantity  of  calomel 
had  been  introduced.  He  ate  each  bun 
from  the  boy's  hand  till  that  with  the 
calomel  was  presented;  instead  of  .con- 
veying it  to  his  mouth,  he  instantly 
dropped  the  bun,  and  crushed  it  with  his 
foot.  In  this  way  he  was  accustomed  tc 
treat  every  thing  of  food  that  he  disliked. 
It  was  always  considered  that  the  ele- 
phant's den  was  of  sufficient  strength  and 
magnitude  to  accommodate,  and  be  proof 
against  any  attack  he  was  able  to  direct 
against  it,  even  in  his  most  violent  displea- 
sure. In  the  course  of  the  four  preceding 
years  the  front  had  sustained  many  hundred 
of  his  powerful  lounges,  without  any  part 
having  been  substantially  injured,  or  the 
smallest  ;portion  displaced,  or  rendered 
rickety  in -the  slightest  degree;  but  on  this 
morning,  (Wednesday,)  about  ten  o?clock, 
he  made  a  tremendous  rush  at  the  front, 
wholly  unexcited  by  provocation,  and 
broke  the  tenon,  01  square  end  at  the  top 
of  the  hinge  story-post,  to  which  the  gates 
are  hung,  from  its  socket  or  mortise  in 
the  massive  cross  beam  above;  and,  con- 
sequently, the  strong  iron  clamped  gates 
which  had  hitherto  resisted  his  many 
furious  attacks  upon  them,  lost  their  secu- 
rity. Mr.  Cross  was  then  absent  from  the 
menagerie,  and,  in  the  urgency  .of  tin 
moment,  his  friend  Mr.  Tyler,  a -gentle- 
man "of  great  coolness  and  faculty  of  ar- 
rangement, gave  orders  for.  a  strong  massy 
piece  of  timber  to  be  placed  in  front  of 
his  den,  as  a  temporary  fixture  against 
•the  broken  story-post ;  and  offered  every 
thing  'he  could  think  of  to  pamper,  and, 
:if  possible,  to  allay  the  animal's  fury.  .On 
Mr.  Cross's  arrival  he  rightly  judged,  that 
another  such  lounge  would  prostrate  the 
gates ;  and,  as  it  was  known  that  Mr. 
Harrison,  the  carpenter  of  the  den,  who 
formerly  possessed  great  influence  over 
him,  had  now  lost  all  power  of  controul- 
ing  him,  it  was  morally  certain,  that 
if  any  other  person's  attempted  to  re- 
pair the  mischief  in  an  effectual  way, 
their  lives  -would  be  forfeited.  Mr. 
Cross,  under  these  circumstances  of 
imminent  danger,  instantly  determined 
to  destroy  the  elephant  with  all  pos- 


327 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


32* 


sible  despatch,  as  the  only  measure  he 
could  possibly  adopt  for  his  own  safety 
and  the  safety  of  the  public.  Having 
formed  his  resolution,  he  went  without 
a  moment's  delay  to  Mr.  Gifford,  chemist 
in  the  Strand,  and  requested  to  be  sup- 
plied with  a  potent  poison,  destitute  if 
possible  of  taste  or  smell.  Mr.  Gifford, 
sensible  of  the  serious  consequences  to 
Mr.  Cross  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view, 
entreated  him  to  reflect  still  further,  and 
not  to  commit  an  act  of  which  he  might 
hereafter  repent.  Mr.  Cross  assured  him 
that  whatever  irritation  he  might  mani- 
fest, proceeded  from  his  own  feelings  of 
regard  towards  the  elephant,  heightened 
by  a  sense  of  the  loss  that  would  ensue 
upon  his  purpose  being  effected  ^ 
adding,  that  he  had  a  firm  conviction  that 
unless  the  animal's  death  was  immediate- 
ly accomplished,  loss  of  human  life  must 
ensue.  Mr.  Gifford  replied,  that  he  had 
never  seen  or  complied  more  reluctantly 
with  his  wish  on  any  occasion,  and  he 
gave  'him  four  ounces  of  arsenic. 
Mr.  Cross  declares  that  on  his  way 
back,  the  conflict  of  his  feelings  was  so 
great  at  that  moment,  that  he  imagines  no 
person  comtemplating  murder  could  ten- 
el  u  re  greater  agony.  The  arsenic  was 
mixed  with  oats,  and  a  quantity  of  sugar 
being  added  by  way  of  inducement,  it  was 
offered  to  the  elephant  as  his  ordinary 
meal  by  his  keeper.  The  sagacious 
animal  wholly  refused  to  touch  it. 

His  eyes  now  glared  like  lenses  <of  glass 
reflecting  a  red  and  burning  light. 
In  order  to  soothe  him,  some  oranges,  to 
which  fruit  he  had  great  liking,  were  re- 
peatedly proffered ;  but  though  these  were 
in  a  pure  state,  he  took  them,  one  after 
the  other,  as  they  were  presented  to  him., 
and  dropping  each  on  the  floor  of  his  den 
instantly  squelched  it  with  his  foot,  and 
having  thus  disposed  of  a  few  he  refused 
to  take  another.  This  utter  rejection  of 
food,  with  amazing  increase  of  fury, 
heightened  Mr.  Cross's  alarm.  He  again 
went  out,  and  in  great  agitation  procured 
half  an  ounce  of  corrosive  sublimate  to 
be  mixed  in  a  quantity  of  conserve  of 
roses,  securely  tied  in  a  bladder,  to 
prevent,  if  possible,  any  scent  from  the 
poison,  and  with  some  hope  that  if  the 
animal  detected  any  effluvia  through  the 
air-tight  skin  it  would  be  the  odour  of 
roses  and  sugar,  which  were  substances 
peculiarly  grateful  to  him.  The  elephant 
was  accustomed  to  swallow  several 
things  lying  about  within  reach  of  his 


proboscis,  which,  if  tendered  to  him,  he 
would  have  refused  ;  and  this  habit  sug- 
gesting the  possibility  that  he  might  sc 
dispose  of  this,  which,  it  was  quite  cer- 
tain, if  presented  would  have  been  re 
jected,  the  ball  was  placed  so  that  he 
might  find  it ;  but  the  instant  he  perceived 
it  he  seemed  to  detect  the  purpose,;  he 
hastily  seized  it,  and  as  hastily  letting  it 
fall,  violently  smashed  it  with  his  foot. 

The  peril  was  becoming  greater  every 
minute.  The  elephant's  weight  was  up- 
wards of  five  tons,  and  from  such  an  ani- 
mal's excessive  rage,  in  a  place  of  inse- 
cure confinement,  the  most  terrible  con- 
sequences were  to  be  feared.  Mr.  Cross 
therefore  intrusted  his  friend,  Mr.  Tyler, 
to  direct  and  assist  the  endeavours  of  the 
keepers  for  the  controul  of  the  infuriated 
beast.  He  .then  despatched  a  messenger 
to  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Herring,  in  the 
New  Road,  Paddington,  a  man  of  deter- 
mined resolution,  and  an  excellent  shot, 
stating  the  danger,  and  requesting  him  to 
come  to  the  menagirie.  As  he  arrived 
•without  arms,  they  went  together  to  Mr. 
Stevens,  gunsmith,  in  High  Holborn,  for 
rifles.  On  their  way  to  him  they  called 
at  Surgeons-hall,  Lincoln's-Inn  Fields, 
where  they  hoped  to  see  the  skeleton  of 
an  elephant,  in  order  to  form  a  judgment 
of -the  places  through  which  the  shots 
would  be  likeliest  to  reach  the  vital  parts. 
In  this  they  were  disappointed,  the  college 
of  surgeons  not  having  the  skeleton  of 
the  animal  in  its  collection  4  but  Mr. 
Clift,  who  politely  received  them,  commu- 
nicated what  information  he  possessed  ou 
the  subject.  Mr.  Stevens  lent  him  three 
rifles,  and  at  his  house  Mr.  Cross  left 
Mr.  Herring  to  get  the  pieces  ready, 
after  instructing  him  to  cooperate  with 
Mr.  Tyler,  in  attempting  the  destruction 
of  the  animal,  if  it  should  be  absolutely 
necessary  before  he  returned  himself. 
From  thence  Mr.  Cross  hastened  to  Great 
Marlborough-street,  for  the  advice  of  Mr. 
Joshua  Brookes,  the  eminent  anatomist. 
He  found  that  gentleman  in  his  theatre, 
delivering  a  public  lecture.  Sense  of 
danger  deprived  Mr.  Cross  of  the  atten- 
tions due  to  time  and  place  under  ordi- 
nary circumstances,  and  he  immediately 
addressed  Mr.  Brookes;  "Sir,  a  word 
with  you,  if  you  please,  immediately 
I  have  not  an  instant  to  lose."  ME 
Brookes  concluded  his  lecture  directly 
and  knowing  Mr.  Cross  would  not  have 
intruded  upon  him  except  from  extreme 
urgency,  withdrew  with  him,  and  gave 


329 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


330 


him  such  instructions  as  the  case  seemed 
to  require.  Mr.  Cross,  accompanied  by 
one  of  Mr.  Brookes's  pupils,  hastened 
homeward.  They  were  met  near  the  me- 
nagerie by  Mr.  Tyler,  who  entreated  Mr. 
Cross  to  run  to  Somerset-house  and  ob- 
tain military  assistance  from  that  place, 
for  that  they  had  been  compelled  to  use 
the  rifles  in  their  own  defence,  and  had 
put  a  number  of  shot  in  him  without 
being  able  to  get  him  down.  Mr. 
Brookes's  pupil  accompanied  Mr.  Tyler, 
to  assist  him,  if  possible,  while  Mr.  Cross 
rapidly  proceeded  to  Somerset-house, 
where  he  found  a  sentry  on  duty,  who 
did  not  dare  to  quit  his  post,  and  referred 
him  to  the  guard -room,  where  there 
were  only  two  other  privates  and  a  cor- 
poral, who,  at  first,  declared  his  utter  in- 
ability to  lend  him  either  men  or  arms ; 
but  on  the  earnest  entreaties  of  Mr.  Cross 
for  aid,  and  his  repeated  representations, 
that  he  would  be  responsible  in  purse  and 
person,  and  compensate  any  conse- 
quences that  could  be  incurred  by  a  di- 
reliction  from  the  formalities  of  military 
duty  on  so  pressing  an  occasion,  the 
corporal  relented,  and,  w-ith  one  of  the 
privates,  hastened  to  the  menagerie. 

Mr.  Cross  now  met  Herring,  of  the 
public  offioe,  Bow-street,  to  whom  he 
eomimmieated  the  situation  of  affairs  at 
Exeter  Change,  and  requested  his  assist- 
ance in  obtaining  arms.  Herring  sug- 
gested an  application  to  Bow-street  for 
that  purpose.  It  appears  that  from  acci- 
dent they  were  not' procurable  there,  and 
deeming  it  possible  that  they  might  be 
got  at  sir  W.  Congreve's  office,  Mr. 
Cross  ran  thither,  where  he  was  also  dis- 
appointed. Mr.  Brooks,  glassman  of  the 
Strand,  informed  Mr.  Cross  there  were 
small  arms  in  the  neighbourhood  of  So- 
merset-house ;  these,  on  returning  to  that 
place,  were  discovered  to  be  old  howit- 
zers, and,  therefore,  useless.  From  thence 
he  went  on  board  the  police-ship  stationed 
on-  the  Thames,  near  Waterloo-bridge, 
expecting  to  find  swivels,  and  was  again 
disappointed  ;  being  informed,  however, 
hat  swivels  were  fired  during  civic  pro- 
^essions  from  Hawes's  soarp  manufactory, 
on  the  Surrey  side  of  the  river,  near 
Blackfriars-bridge,  he  rowed  over  and 
obtained  a  swivel,  with  a  few  balls,  and  the 
{eadof  a  poker,  and  the  assistance  of  one 
•f  Mr.  Hawes's  men.  The  use  for  either, 
lowever,  eeased  to  exist ;  for  they  arrived 
at  the  menagerie  within  a  few  minutes 
the  conclusion  of  such  a  scene  as 


had  never  been  exhibited  in  that  place 
nor,  probably,  in  any  other  in  this  coun, 
try.  The  elephant  was  dead. 

To  describe  the  proceedings  of  Exete 
Change,  from    the  time   of  Mr.  Cross' 
leaving  it,  it  is  necessary  to  recur  to  tb 
period  of  Mr.  Herring's  appearance  thi- 
ther, on  his  return  from  Mr.  Stevens's,  in 
Holborn,  with  the  three  rifles,  and  one  or 
Mr.  Stevens's  assistants.     He  found  that 
the  violence  of  the  elephant  had  increased 
every  minute  from  the  period  of  his  de- 
parture with  Mr.  Cross,  and  that  at  great 
personal  hazard  Mr.  Tyler,  with  Cartmell 
and  Newsam,  and  the  other  keepers,  had 
prevented  him  from  breaking  down  the 
front  of  the  den. 

The  keepers  faced  him  with  long  pikes 
or  spears,  to  deter  him  as  much  as  possi- 
ble from  efforts  to  liberate  himself  from 
the  confinement,  which  at  ordinary  pe- 
riods he  had  submitted  to  without  re- 
straint. When  he  lounged  furiously  at 
the  bars,  they  assailed  him  with  great 
bravery,  and  their  threats  and  menaces 
prevented  the  frequency  of  his  attacks.  In 
this  state  of  affairs  Mr.  Herring  concurred 
with  Mr.  Tyler,  that  to  wait  longer  for 
Mr.  Cross  would  endanger  the  existence 
of  every  person  present ;  and  having  com- 
municated the  fact  to  Mrs.  Cross,  who 
had  the  highest  regard  for  the  animal 
from  his  ordinary  docility,  she  was  con- 
vinced, by  their  representations,  that  hi*> 
death  must  be  accomplished  immediately, 
and  therefore  assented  to  it. 

For  the  information  of  persons  not  ac- 
quainted with  the  menagerie,,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  state  that  it  occupies  the  entire 
range  of  the  floor  above  Exeter  Change, 
the  lower  part  of  which  edifice  withinside 
is  occupied  by  shops  belonging  to  Mr. 
Clarke.  This  part  of  the  building,  on 
the  business  of  the  day  being  concluded, 
is  closed  every  night  by  the  strong  folding 
gates  at  each  end,  which,  when  open, 
allow  a  free  passage  to  the  public  through 
the  Change.  It  will  be  perceived,  there- 
fore, that  the  flooring  above  is  Mr.  Cross's 
menagerie,  or,  at  least,  that  very  import- 
ant part  of  it  which  is  allotted  to  his 
matchless  collection  of  quadrupeds.  A  large 
arrangement  of  other  animals  is  in  other 
apartments,  on  a  higher  story.  Nero,  not 
Wombwell's  Nero,  which  was  baited  by 
that  showman  at  Warwick,  but  a  lion  not 
only  in  eveiy  respect  finer  than  his  name- 
sake, and,  in  short,  the  noblest  of  hi.s 
noble  species  in  England,  occupies  a  den 
in  the  menagerie  over  the  western  door  of 


331 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9s, 


332 


the  Change.  Other  lions  and  animals 
are  properly  secured  in  their  places  of 
exhibition,  on  each  side  of  the  room, 
and  the  east  end  is'  wholly  occupied  by 
the  den  of  the  elephant ;  its  floor  being 
supported  by  a  foundation  of  brick  and 
timber  more  than  adequate  to  the  amazing 
weight  of  the  animal.  The  requisite 
strength  and  construction  of  this  flooring 
necessarily  raise  it  nearly  two  feet  from 
the  flooring  of  the  other  part  of  the  men- 
agerie, which,  though  amazingly  stable, 
and  capable  of  bearing  any  other  beast 
in  perfect  safety,  would  have  immediately 
given  way  beneath  the  tread  of  the  ele- 
phant ;  and  had  he  forced  his  den  he 
must  have  fallen  through. 

As  soon,  therefore,  as  his  sudden  death 
was  resolved  on,  Mr.  Tyler  went  down  to 
Mr.  Clarke,  and  acquainting  him  with  the 
danger  arising  out  of  the  immediate  ne- 
cessity, suggested  the  instant  removal 
of  every  person  from  the  Change  below, 
and  the  closing  of  the  Change  gates.  Mr. 
Clarke,  and  all  belonging  to  his  establish- 
ment, saw  the  propriety  of  their  speedy 
departure,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  gates 
were  barred  and  locked.  By  the  adop- 
tion of  these  precautions,  if  the  elephant 
had  broken  down  the  floor  no  lives 
would  have  been  lost,  although  much  va- 
luable property  would  have  been  destroy- 
ed ;  and,  in  the  event  contemplated,  the 
animal  himself  would  have  been  confined 
within  the  basement.  Still,  however,  a 
sJight  exertion  of  his  enormous  strength 
could  have  forced  the  gates.  If  he  had 
made  his  entry  into  the  Strand,  it  is  im- 
possible to  conjecture  the  mischief  that 
might  have  ensued  in  that  crowded 
thoroughfare,  from  his  infuriated  passion. 

On  Mr.  Tyler's  return  up  stairs  from 
Mr.  Clarke,  it  was  evident  from  the  ele- 
phant's extreme  rage,  that  not  a  moment 
was  to  be  lost.  Three  rifles  therefore 
were  immediately  loaded,  and  Mr.  Her- 
ring, accompanied  by  Mr.  Stevens's  assist- 
ant entered  the  menagerie,  each  with  a 
rifle,  and  took  their  stations  for  the  pur- 
pose of  firing.  Mr.  Tyler  pointed  out  to 
the  keepers  the  window  places,  and  such 
recesses  as  they  might  fly  to  if  the  ele- 
phant broke  through,  and  enjoining  each 
man  to  select  a  particular  spot  as  his  own 
exclusive  retreat,  concluded  by  showing 
the  danger  of  any  two  of  them  running  to 
the  same  place  for  shelter.  The  keepers 
with  their  pikes,  placed  themselves  in  the 
rear  of  Mr.  Herring  and  his  assistant,who 
stood  immediately  opposite  the  den,  at 


about  the  distance  of  twelve  feet  in  the 
front.  Mr.  Herring  requested  Cartmell 
to  call  in  his  usual  tone  to  the  elephant 
when  he  exhibited  him  to  visiters,  on 
which  occasions  the  animal  was  accus- 
tomed to  face  his  friends  with  the  hope  of 
receiving  something  from  their  hands. 
CartmelFs  cry  of  "  Chunee !  Chunee !  Chu- 
neelah!"  in  his  exhibiting  tone,  produced 
a  somewhat  favourable  posture  for 
his  enemies,  and  he  instantly  received  two 
bullets  aimed  from  the  rifles  towards  the 
heart ;  they  entered  immediately  behind 
the  shoulder  blade,  at  the  distance  of 
about  three  inches  from  each  other.  The 
moment  the  balls  had  perforated  his  body 
he  made  a  fierce  and  heavy  rush  at  the 
front,  which  further  weakened  the  gates, 
shivered  the  side  bar  next  to  the  dislodged 
story-post,  and  drove  it  out  into  the  me- 
nagerie. The  fury  of  the  animal's  as- 
sault was*  terrific,  the  crash  of  the  timbers, 
the  hallooing  of  the  keepers  in  their  re- 
treat, the  calls  for  "  rifles !  rifles  I"  and 
the  confusion  and  noise  incident  to  the 
scene,  rendered  it  indescribably  terrific. 
The  assailants  rallied  in  a  few  seconds, 
and  came  pointing  their  spears  with 
threats.  Mr.  Tyler  having  handed  two 
other  rifles,  they  were  discharged  as  before ; 
and,  as  before,  produced  a  similar  des- 
perate lounge  from  the  enraged  beast  at 
the  front  of  his  den.  Had  it  been  effect- 
ive, and  he  had  descended  on  the  floor, 
his  weight  must  have  inevitably  carried 
it,  together  with  himself,  his  assailants, 
and  the  greater  part  of  the  lions,  and  other 
animals,  into  the  Change  below,  and  by 
possibility  have  buried  the  entire  mena- 
gerie in  ruins.  "  Rifles  !  rifles  !"  were 
again  called  for,  and  from  this  awful  cri- 
sis it  was  only  in  the  power  of  Mr.  Tyler 
and  some  persons  outside,  to  load  quick 
enough  for  the  discharge  of  one  rifle  at 
a  time.  The  maddened  animal  turned 
round  in  his  den  incessantly,  apparently 
with  the  design  of  keeping  his  head  from 
the  riflemen,  who  after  the  first  two  dis- 
charges could  only  obtain  single  shots  at 
him.  The  shutter  inside  of  a  small  grated 
window,  which  stood  in  a  projection  into 
the  den,  at  one  of  the  back  corners,  was 
now  unshipped,  and  from  this  position  Mr. 
Herring  fired  several  shots  through  the 
grating.  The  elephant  thus  attacked  in 
the  rear  as  well  as  the  front,  flew  round 
the  den  with  the  speed  of  a  race-horse, 
uttering  frightful  yells  and  screams,  and 
stopping  at  intervals  to  bound  from  the 
back  against  the  front.  The  force  of  these 


333 


THE  EVEIIY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9 


334 


rushes  shook  the  entire  building,  and  ex-  deavoured  to  conceal  his  head  by  keeping 
cited  the  most  terrifying  expectation  that  his  rear  to  the  front ;  and  lest  he  should 
he  would  bring  down  the  entire  mass  of  either  make  a  successful  effort  at  the  gate, 


wood  and  iron-work,  and  project  himself 
among  his  assailants. 

After  the  discharge  of  about  thirty 
balls,  he  stooped  and  sunk  deliberately  on 
his  haunches.  Mr.  Herring,  conceiving  that 
a  shot  had  struck  him  in  a  vital  part,  cried 
out  —  "  He's  down,  boys !  he's  down  1" 
and  so  he  was,  but  it  was  only  for  a  mo- 
ment :  he  leapt  up  with  renewed  vigour, 
and  at  least  eighty  balls  were  successively 
discharged  at  him  from  different  positions 
before  he  fell  a  second  time.  Previous  to 
that  fall,  Mr.  Joshua  Brookes  had  ar- 
rived with  his  son,  and  suggested  to  Mr. 
Herring  to  aim  especially  at  the  ear,  at 
the  eye,  and  at  the  gullet. 

The  two  soldiers  despatched  from 
Somerset-house  by  Mr.  Cross  came  in 
a  short  time  before  Mr.  Brookes,  and  dis- 
charged about  three  or  four  rounds  of 
ball  cartridge,  which  was  all  the  amuni- 
tion  they  had.  It  is  a  remarkable  in- 
stance of  the  animal's  subjection  to  his 
keeper,  that  though  in  this  deranged 
state,  he  sometimes  recognised  Cartmell's 
usual  cry  of  "  Chunee  !  Chunee  !  Chunee- 
lah  !"  by  sounds  with  which  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  answer  the  call,  and  that  more 
than  once, when  Cartmell  called  out  "  Bite 
Chunee !  bite  P  which  was  his  ordinary 
command  to  the  elephant  to  kneel,  he 
actually  knelt,  and  in  that  position  re- 
ceived the  balls  in  the  parts  particularly 
desired  to  be  aimed  at.  Cartmell,  there- 
fore, kept  himself  as  much  as  possible  out 
of  view  as  one  of  the  assailarits,  in  order 
that  his  voice  might  retain  its  wonted 
ascendency.  He  and  Newsam,  and  their 
comrades  took  every  opportunity  of 
thrusting  at  him.  Cartmell,  armed  with  a 
sword  at  the  end  of  a  pole,  which  he  af- 
terwards affixed  to  a  rifle,  pierced  him 
several  times. 

On  the  elephant's  second  fall  he  lay 
with  his  face  towards  the  back  of  the  den, 
and  with  one  of  his  feet  thrust  out  be- 
tween the  bars,  so  that  the  toes  touched 
the  menagerie  floor.  At  this  time  he  had 
from  a  hundred  and  ten  to  a  hundred  and 
twenty  balls  in  him;  as  he  lay  in  a 
posture,  Cartmell  thrust  the  sword  into 
nis  body  to  the  hilt.  The  sanguinary  con- 
flict had  now  lasted  nearly  an  hour;  yet, 
with  astonishing  alacrity,  he  again  rose, 
without  evincing  any  sign  that  he  had 
sustained  vital  injury,  though  it  was  ap- 
parent he  was  much  exhausted.  He  en- 


or,on  receiving  his  death-wound,  fall  back- 
wards against  it,  which  would  inevitably 
have  carried  the  whole  away,  the  keepers 
availed  themselves  of  the  juncture  to  ra- 
pidly lash  the  gates  of  his  den  with  a 
chain  and  ropes  so  securely,  that  he  could 
not  force  them  without  bringing  down  the 
entire  front. 

Mr.  Herring  now  directed  his  rifle 
constantly  to  the  ear  :  one  of  these  balls 
took  so  much  effect,  that  the  elephant 
suddenly  rushed  round  from  the  blow, 
and  made  his  last  furious  effort  at  the 
gates.  Mr.  Tyler  describes  this  rush  as 
the  most  awful  of  the  whole.  If  the  gates 
had  not  been  firmly  lashed,  the  animal 
must  have  come  through;  for,  by  this 
last  effort,  he  again  dislodged  them, 
and  they  were  kept  upright  by  the 
chain  and  ropes  alone.  Mr.  Herring  from 
this  time  chiefly  directed  his  fire  at 
the  gullet ;  at  last  he  fell,  but  with  so 
much  deliberation,  and  in  a  position  so 
natural  to  his  usual  habits,  that  he  seemed 
to  have  lain  down  to  rest  himself.  Mr. 
Herring  continued  to  fire  at  him,  and 
spears  were  ran  into  his  sides,  but  he  re- 
mained unmoved,  nor  did  he  stir  from  the 
first  moment  of  his  .fall.  Four  or  five 
discharges  from  a  rifle  into  his  ear  pro- 
duced no  effect :  it  was  evident  that  he 
was  without  sense,  and  that  he  had  drop- 
ped dead,  into  the  posture  wherein  he  al- 
ways lay  when  alive. 

The  fact  that  such  an  animal,  of  such; 
prodigious  size  and  strength,  was  destroy- 
ed  in  such  a  place,  without  an  accident, 
from  the  commencement  to  the  close  of 
the  assaults  a  subject  of  real  astonishment. 
The  situation  of  Mr.  Cross's  menagerie, 
after  the  removal  of   the  elephant,  was 
equally  and  almost  as  agreeably  surpris- 
ing.    A  partial  dissection  took  place  on 
the  Sunday,  and  in  the  course  of  the  same 
day   the   body  of  the  animal,  with  the 
skeleton,  hide,  and  every  particle  of  the 
remains,  were  removed.     A  stranger  enT 
tering  the  place  on  Tuesday,  ignorant  of 
the  recent  event,  could  not  have  suspect- 
ed such  an  occurrence.     The  menagerie 
was  destitute  of  offensive  smell,  and,  in 
every  respect,  preserved  its  usual  appear- 
ance  of    order  and   cleanliness.      Thus 
much    is   testified  by  the  editor  of  the 
Every-Day  Book  from  personal  observa- 
tion ;  and,  if  he  were  not  too  unwell  to 
write  more,  he  would  add  some  interesting 


335 


THE   E\EHYDAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


336 


particulars  jespecling  "  Chuneelah," 
which  are  necessarily  deferred  till  the 
next  sheet. 

A  representation  of  the  outude  front 
of  the  den  seeming  essential  to  the  right 
understanding  of  the  narrative,  an  en- 
graving of  it  is  added  from  a  drawing 
made  by  Mr.  Jchn  Clej.  horn,  the  archi- 


tectural draftsman,  for  that  purpose.  It 
is  minutely  correct  in  form  and  propor- 
tion, and  shows  the  bar  which  the  ele- 
phant broke  and  displaced  in  his  last 
lounge.  Though  of  solid  oak,  six  inches 
square,  it  broke  beneath  mVrash  like  a 
slight  .'tick. 

This    engraving   will    be    particularly 
referred  to  hereafter. 


Ben  of  tfce  (Efrpbant  at  ©jttrr 


The  posture  of  the  animal  as  he  lay 
dead,,  is  shown  by  the  engraving  at  the 
head  of  this  article. 

Several  interesting  anecdotes  concerning 
elephants  are  extracted  and  subjoined  from 
th$  Philosophical  Transactions,  Grose's 


Voyage  to  the  East  Indies,  Shaw's  Zoology r 
Goldsmith's  Animated  Nature,  the  Gentle 
man's  Magazine,  and  other  works  and  col- 
lections, some  of  which  are  named  in  the 
extracts  themselves. 


337 


THE  EVEIIY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


338 


Tn  the  "London  Magazine,"  for  1761, 
there  is  an  imperfect  description  of  a 
large  elephant,  which  is  there  called  a 
"  monstrous  creature,"  presented  by  the 
court  of  Persia  to  the  king,  of  Naples  at 
that  period.  There  is  a  detailed  account 
of  the  animal  by  M.  Nolletr  in  the  "  Phi- 
losophical Transactions"  of  the  French 
Royal  Academy.  The  "  London  "  editor 
was  so  struck  by  this  elephant's  enormous 
consumption  of  food,  that  he  observes, 
"  as  the  keeping  of  an  elephant  is  so  ex- 
pensive, we  may  conclude  that  no  old 
or  full-grown  one  will  ever  be  brought 
here  for  a  show."  It  is  true  that  Mr. 
Cross's  elephant,  on  his  arrival  in  this 
country,  was  neither  old  nor  full-grown  ; 
but  his  exhibition  falsifies  the  English 
editor's  presumption,  that  the  great  outlay 
for  such  an  animal's  keep  would  be  an 
effectual  bar  to  such  enterprise  as  we 
have  seen  manifested  by  Mr.  Cross, 
whose  elephant  was  in  size,  and  other 
respects,  greatly  superior  to  the  "  enor- 
mous" elephant  of  his  majesty  of  the 
Two  Sicilies. 

Besinian  observes,  that  the  Bullets  to 
be  made  use  of  in  hunting  and  killing  the 
elephants,  must  be  of  iron,  lead  being  too 
soft  in  its  texture  to  do  any  execution. 
He  says,  "  elephants  are  very  difficult  to 
be  killed,  unless  the  ball  happens  to  light 
betwixt  the  eyes  and  the  ears ;  to  which 
end  the  bullet  ought  to  be  iron  also. 
Their  skin  is  as  good  proof  against  the 
common  musket  lead  balls,  as  a  wall  ; 
and  if  they  hit  the  mentioned  place  be- 
come entirely  flat."  Afterwards  he  says, 
"Those  who  pretended  thoroughly  to 
understand  the  elephant-shooting,  told  us, 
that  we  ought  to  have  shot  iron  bullets, 
since  those  of  lead  are  flatted,  either  by 
their  bones,  or  the  toughness  of  their  skin." 

About  the  year  1767,  a  cutler  at  Shef- 
field in  Yorkshire,  in  sawing  an  elephant's 
tooth  into  proper  laminae  or  scantlings 
of  ivory,  met  with  a  resistance  which 
he  had  great  difficulty  to  overcome. 
After  he  had  got  through  the  ob- 
struction, it  proved  to  be  an  iron  bullet, 
lodged  in  the  very  body  of  the  tooth,  with- 
out any  visible  mark  externally  of  the 
place  where  it  entered. 

Tn  18dl,  Mr.  Charles  Combe  described 
to  theRoyalSociety,  an  elephant's  tusk  with 
the  iron  head  of  a  spear  thoroughly  im- 
bedded in  it.  From  its  position,  he  pre- 


sumed it  to  have  been  forced  by  manual 
strength,  through  that  part  of  the  skirtl 
contiguous  to  the  tusk ;  and  that  pursuing 
the  natural  course  of  the  cavity,  it  pointed 
downwards  towards  the  apex  of  the  tusk. 
Other  substances  foreign  to  the  natural 
growth  of  the  tusks  of  elephants,  are  fre- 
quently, found  within  them. 

It  is  not  until  after  the  discharge  of  a 
hundred  or  perhaps  double  the  number  of 
rifles,  that  the  elephant  is  slain  in  India, 
when  he  is  chased  by  persons  inured  to 
the  danger,  and  determined  on  his  de- 
struction. It  will  not  excite  astonish- 
ment, therefore,  that  Mr.  Cross's  noble 
animal  should  have  retained  life  under 
the  firing  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-two 
shots.  There  is  an  account  of  a  splendid 
hunting  party  of  a  late  Nawab  Asuf-ud- 
Dowlah,  who,  with  an  immense  retinue, 
took  the  field  for  the  purpose  of  destroy- 
ing every  animal  they  met  with.  On  a 
large  plain  overgrown  with  grass  they 
discovered  a  wild  elephant.  The  Nawab 
immediately  formed  a  semicircle,  with 
four  hundred  tame  elephants,  who  were 
directed  to  advance  and  surround  him. 
When  the  semicircle  of  elephants  got 
within  three  hundred  yards  of  the  wild 
one,  he  looked  amazed,  but  not  frightened. 
Two  large  and  fierce  elephants  were  or- 
dered to  advance  against  him,  but  they 
were  repulsed  by  a  dreadful  shock,  and 
drove  by  the  Nawab,  who,  as  the  wild 
one  passed,  ordered  some  of  the  strongest 
female  elephants  to  go  alongside  and 
endeavour  to  entangle  him  with  nooses 
and  running  knots;  the  attempt,  how- 
ever, was  vain,  as  he  snapped  every  rope, 
and  none  of  the  tame  elephants  could 
stop  his  progress.  The  Nawab,  perceiv- 
ing it  impossible  to  catch  him,  ordered 
his  death,  and  immediately  a  volley  of 
above  a  hundred  shots  were  fired.  Many 
of  the  balls  hit  him,  but  he  seemed  un- 
concerned, and  moved  on  towards  th« 
mountains.  An  incessant  fire  was  kept  up 
for  nearly  half  an  hour ;  the  Nawab  and 
most  of  his  omras,  or  lords,  used  rifles, 
which  carried  two  or  three  ounce  balls 
but  they  made  very  little  impression,  ana 
scarcely  penetrated  beyond  the  skin.  Out 
author,  who  was  mounted  on  a  female 
elephant,  went  up  repeatedly  within  ten 
yards  of  the  wild  one,  and  fired  his  rifle 
at  his  head ;  the  blood  gushed  out,  but 
the  skull  was  invulnerable.  Some  of  the 
Kandahar  horse  then  galloped  up  and 
wounded  the  beast  in  several  places.  At 


339 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9- 


340 


length,  being  much  exhausted  with  the 
loss  of  blood,  from  the  number  oC  wounds 
which  he  had  received,  he  slackened  his 
pace,  and  became  quite  calm  and  serene, 
as  if  determined  to  meet  his  approaching 
end.  The  horsemen,  seeing  him  weak 
and  slow,  dismounted,  and  with  their 
swords  commenced  a  furious  attack  on 
the  tendons  of  his  hind  legs,  which  were 
soon  divided,  and  the  operation  com- 
pletely disabled  the  poor  animal  from 
proceeding  any  further:  he  staggered, 
and  then  fell  without  a  groan.  The 
hatchet-men  now  advanced,  and  began  to 
cut  away  his  large  ivory  tusks,  while  the 
norsemen  and  soldiers  in  the  most  unfeel- 
ing manner  attacked  the  dying  creature 
with  their  swords.  We  can  readily  be- 
lieve the  writer,  when  he  says  the  sight 
was  very  affecting.  The  noble  animal 
still  breathed,  and  breathed  without  a 
groan.  He  rolled  his  eyes  in  anguish  on 
the  surrounding  crowd,  and,  making  a 
last  effort  to  rise,  expired  with  a  sigh, 

Before  gunpowder  was  invented,  ele- 
phants were  used  by  the  nations  of  Asia 
and  Africa  for  the  purposes  of  war,  and 
the  kings  of  Ceylon,  Pegu,  and  Arracan, 
have  from  time  immemorial  employed 
them  for  this  use.  Sharp  sword-blades 
were  fastened  to  their  trunks,  and  upon 
their  backs  were  fixed  small  wooden 
castles,  containing  five  or  six  men,  armed 
with  javelins,  and  other  missile  weapons. 
The  Greeks  and  Romans,  however,  soon 
learnt  the  best  method  of  defence  against 
these  enormous  warriors.  They  opened 
their  ranks  to  let  them  pass  through,  and 
directed  their  whole  attack  against  their 
riders.  But  since  tire-arms  have  become 
the  principal  instruments  of  war,  ele- 
phants, who  are  terrified  both  by  the  fire, 
and  the  noise  of  their  discharge,  would 
be  of  more  detriment  than  advantage  to 
the  party  that  should  employ  them. 
Some  of  the  Indian  kings,  however,  still 
use  armed  elephants  in  their  wars.  In 
Cochin,  and  other  parts  of  Malabar,  all 
the  soldiers  that  do  not  fight  on  foot  are 
mounted  upon  elephants.  This  is  also 
the  case  in  Tonqxun,  Siam,  and  Pegu, 
where  the  use  of  fire-arms  is  but  little 
known.  The  leader  of  the  elephant  sits 
astride  upon  his  neck,  and  the  combat- 
ants sit  or  stand  upon  other  parts  of  his 
body.  The  elephants  also  prove  very 
serviceable  in  passing  rivers,  and  carry 
the  baggage  over  on  their  backs.  When 
their  leaders  have  loaded  them  with  a 


burden  of  several  hundred  weight,  they 
tie  cords  to  it,  by  which  the  soldiers  hold 
fast  and  swim,  or  are  drawn  across  the 
river.  In  battle,  a  heavy  iron  chain  is 
sometimes  fastened  to  the  end  of  their 
trunk,  which  they  swing  about  with 
such  rapidity,  as  renders  it  impossible 
for  an  enemy  to  approach  them.  Ano- 
ther service  which  these  animals  perform 
in  war,  consists  in  forcing  open  the  gates 
of  besieged  towns  or  fortresses.  This 
they  do,  by  stemming  themselves  with 
their  haunches  against  the  gates,  and 
moving  from  side  to  side  till  they  have 
broken  the  hinges,  and  forced  open  the 
gate.  In  order  to  prevent  this,  the  be- 
sieged have  generally  large  nails  fixed 
in  the  gates,  and  projecting  to  a  consider- 
able length. 

Elephants  are  also  employed  for  tran- 
sporting heavy  ordnance  over  mountains, 
in  doing  which  they  show  a, singular 
degree  of  ingenuity.  When  oxen  or 
horses  are  harnessed  to  a  piece  of  ord- 
nance, it  requires  the  exertion  of  all  their 
strength  to  draw  it  up  an  ascent.  The 
elephant,  in  such  cases,  pushes  the  car- 
riage forward  with  his  forehead,  and  after 
every  push,  stems  his  knees  against  the 
wheels,  whereby  he  prevents  it  from 
rolling  back. 

Wild  elephants  were  caught  and  trained 
at  an  early  period;  since  we  find  Arrian, 
who  flourished  about  the  104th  year  of 
Christ,  giving  us  the  following  account  of 
the  manner  of  taking  elephants  in  India. 
The  Indians  enclose  a  large  spot  of 
ground,  with  a  trench  about  twenty  feet 
wide,  and  fifteen  high,  to  which  there  is 
access  but  in  one  part,  and  this  is  a 
bridge,  and  is  covered  with  turf;  in  order 
that  these  animals,  who  are  very  subtle, 
may  not  suspect  what  is  intended.  Of 
the  earth  that  is  dug  out  of  the  trench,  a 
kind  of  wall  is  raised,  on  the  other  side  of 
which  a  little  kind  of  chamber  is  made, 
where  people  conceal  themselves  in  order 
to  watch  these  animals,  and  its  entrance 
is  very  small.  In  this  enclosure  two  or 
three  tame  female  elephants  are  set.  The 
instant  the  wild  elephants  see  or  smell 
them,  they  run  and  whirl  about  so  much, 
that  at  last  they  enter  the  enclosure; 
upon  which  the  bridge  is  immediately 
broken  down,  and  the  people  upon  the 
watch  fly  to  the  neighbouring  villages  for 
help.  After  they  have  been  broken  for 
few  days  by  hunger  and  thirst,  people 
enter  the  enclosure  upon  the  tame  ele- 


341 


-THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


342 


pliants,  and  with  these  they  attack  them. 
As  the  wild  ones  are  by  this  time  very 
much  weakened,  it  is  impossible  for  them 
to  make  a  long  resistance.  After  throw- 
ing them  on  the  ground,  men  get  upon 
their  backs,  having  first  made  a  deep 
wound  round  their  necks,  about  which 
they  throw  a  rope,  in  order  to  put  them 
to  great  pain  in  case  they  attempt  to  stir. 
Being  tamed  in  this  manner,  they  suffer 
themselves  to  be  led  quietly  to  the  houses 
with  the  rest,  where  they  are  fed  with 
grass  and  green  corn,  and  tamed  insen- 
sibly by  blows  and  hunger,  till  such  time 
as  they  obey  readily  their  master's  voice, 
and  perfectly  understand  his  language. 

In  a  description  of  the  process  of  catch- 
ing wild  elephants,  related  by  John  Corse, 
Esq.  in  the  "  Asiatic  Researches,"  he 
interests  the  reader  by  an  account  of  the 
escape  of  one  which  had  been  tamed,  and 
of  his  submission  to  his  keeper  when  he 
was  recaptured.  He  says,  in  June, 
1787,  Jattra-mungul,  a  male  elephant 
taken  the  year  before,  was  travelling  in 
company  with  some  other  elephants 
towards  Chittigong,  laden  with  a  tent, 
and  some  baggage  for  the  accommodation 
of  Mr.  Buller  and  myself  on  the  journey. 
Having  come  upon  a  tiger's  track,  which 
elephants  discover  readily  by  the  smell, 
he  took  fright  and  ran  off  to  the  woods  in 
spite  of  the  efforts  of  his  driver.  On 
entering  the  wood,  the  driver  saved  him- 
self by  springing  from  the  elephant,  and 
clinging  to  the  branch  of  a  tree,  under 
which  he  was  passing  :  when  the  elephant 
had  got  rid  of  his  driver,  he  soon  contrived 
to  shake  off  his  load.  As  soon  as  he  ran 
away,  a  trained  female  was  despatched 
after  him,  but  could  not  get  up  in  time  to 
prevent  his  escape ;  she,  however,  brought 
back  his  driver,  and  the  load  he  had 
thrown  off,  and  we  proceeded,  without 
any  hope  of  ever  seeing  him  again. 

Eighteen  months  after  this,  when  a 
herd  of  elephants  had  been  taken,  and  had 
remained  several  days  in  the  enclosure, 
till  they  were  enticed  into  the  outlet,  and 
there  tied,  and  led  out  in  the  usual  man- 
ner, one  of  the  drivers,  viewing  a  male 
elephant  very  attentively,  declared  that 
he  resembled  the  one  which  had  run  away. 
This  excited  the  curiosity  of  every  one  to 
go  and  look  at  him  ;  but  when  any  person 
came  near,  the  animal  struck  at  him  with 
his  trunk,  and,  in  every  respect,  appeared 
as  wild  and  outrageous  as  any  of  the  other 
elephants.  At  length,  an  old  hunter, 


coming  up  and  examining  him  narrowly, 
declared  he  was  the  very  elephant  thai 
had  made  his  escape. 

Confident  of  this,  he  boldly  rode  up  to 
him,  on  a  tame  elephant,  and  ordered  him 
to  lie  down,  pulling  him  by  the  ear  at  the 
same  time.  The  animal  seemed  quite 
taken  by  surprise,  and  instantly  obeyed 
the  word  of  command,  with  as  much 
quickness  as  the  ropes  with  which  he  was 
tied  permitted ;  uttering  at  the  same  time 
a  peculiar  shrill  squeak  through  his  trunk, 
as  he  had  formerly  been  known  to  do ;  by 
which  he  was  immediately  recognised  by 
every  person  who  had  ever  been  acquaint- 
ed with,  this  peculiarity. 

Thus  we  see  that  this  elephant,  for  the 
space  of  eight  or  ten  days,  during  which 
he  was  in  the  haddah,  and  even  while  he 
was  tying  in  the  outlet,  appeared  equally 
wild  and  fierce  as  the  boldest  elephant 
then  taken ;  so  that  he  was  not  even  sus- 
pected of  having  been  formerly  taken,  till 
he  was  conducted  from  the  outlet.  The 
moment,  however,  he  was  addressed  in  a 
commanding  tone,  the  recollection  of  his 
former  obedience  seemed  to  lush  upon 
him  at  once ;  and,  without  any  difficulty,, 
he  permitted  a  driver  to  be  seated  on  his 
neck,  who  in  a  few  days  made  him  as 
tractable  as  ever. 

Bruce  relates  the  Abyssinian  mode  of 
destroying  the  elephant  from  his  own 
observation,  during  his  return  from  Gon- 
dah,  and  while  sojourning  with  Ayto 
Confu.  His  narrative  is  in  these  words. 

Though  we  were  all  happy  to  our  wish 
in  this  enchanted  mountain,  the  active 
spirit  of  Ayto  Confu  could  not  rest.  He 
was  come  to  hunt  the  elephant,  and  hunt 
him  he  would.  All  those  that  understood 
any  thing  of  this  exercise  had  assembled 
from  a  great  distance,  to  meet  Ayto  Confu 
at  Tcherkin.  He  and  Engedan,  from  the 
moment  they  arrived,  had  been  overlook- 
ing from  the  precipice  their  servants 
training  and  managing  their  horses  in  the 
market-place  below.  Great  bunches  of 
the  finest  canes  had  been  brought  from 
Kawra  for  javelins ;  and  the  whole  house 
was  employed  in  fitting  heads  to  them  in 
the  most  advantageous  manner.  For  my 
part,  though  I  should  have  been  very  well 
contented  to  have  remained  where  I  was, 
yet  the  preparations  for  sport  of  so  noble 
a  kind  roused  my  spirits,  and  made  me 
desirous  to  join  in  it. 

On  the  6th,  an  hour  before  day,  after  a 
heartv  breakfast,  we  mounted  on  horse- 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9 


344 


back,  to  the  number  of  about  thirty,  be- 
longing to  Ayto  Confu.  But  there  was 
another  body,  both  of  horse  and  foot> 
which  made  hunting  Ihe  elephant  their 
particular  business.  These  men  dwell 
constantly  in  the  woods,  and  know  very 
little  of  the  use  of  bread,  living  entirely 
upon  the  flesh  of  the  beasts  they  kill, 
chiefly  that  of  the  elephant  or  rhinoceros. 
They  are  exceedingly  thin,  light,  and 
agile,  both  on  horseback  and  foot;;  are 
very  swarthy,  though  few  of  them  black ; 
none  of  them  woolly-headed,  and  all  of 
them  have  European  features.  They  are 
called  Agageer,  a  name  of  their  profes- 
sion, not  of  their  nation,  which  comes 
from  the  word  agar,  and  signifies  to  hough 
or  hamstring  with  a  sharp  weapon.  More 
properly  it  means  the  cutting  of  the  ten- 
don of  the  heel,  and  is  a  characteristic  of 
the  manner  in  which  they  kill  the  ele- 
phant, which  is-  shortly  as  follows  : 

Two  men,  absolutely  naked,  without 
any  rag  or  covering'  at  all  about  them,  get 
on  horseback ;  this  precaution  is  for  fear 
of  being  laid  hold  of  by  the  trees  or 
bushes  in  making  their  escape  from  a  very 
watchful  enemy;  One  of  these  riders  sits 
upon  the  back  of  the  horse,  sometimes 
with  a  saddle j  and  sometimes  without 
one,  ^irith  only  a  switch,  or  short  stick  in 
one  hand,  carefully  managing  the  bridle 
with  the  other ;  behind  him  sits  his  com- 
panion, who  has  no  other  arms  but  a 
broad-sword,  such  as  is  used  by  Sclavo- 
nians,  and  which  is  brought  from  Trieste. 
His  left  hand  is  employed  grasping  the 
sword  by  the  handle  ;  about  fourteen 
inches  of  the  blade  is  covered  with  whip- 
cord. This  part  he  takes  in  his  right 
hand,  without  any  danger  of  being  hurt 
by  it ;  and,  though  the  edges  of  the  lower 
part  of  the  sword  are  as  sharp  as  a  razor, 
he  carries  it  without  a  scabbard. 

As  soon  as  the  elephant  is  found  feed- 
ing, the  horseman  rides  before  him  as  near 
his  face  as  possible;  or,  if  he  flies,  crosses 
him  in  all  directions,  crying  out,  "  I  am 
such  a  man  and  such  a  man ;  this  is  my 
horse,  that  has  such  a  name;  I  killed 
your  father  in  such  a  place,  and  your 
grandfather  in  such  another  place ;  and 
I  am  now  come  to  kill  you  ;  you  are  but 
an  ass  in  comparison  of  them."  This 
nonsense  he  verily  believes  the  elephant 
understands,  who,  chased  and  angry  at 
hearing  the  noise  immediately  before 
him,  seeks  to  seize  him  with  his  trunk,  or 
proboscis  ;  and,  intent  upon  this,  follows 
the  horse  everywhere,  turning  and  turning 


round  with  him,  neglectful  of  making  his 
escape  by  running  straight  forward,  in 
which  consists  his  only  safety.  After 
having  made  him  turn  once  or  twice  in 
pursuit,  of  the  horse,  the  horseman  rides 
close  up  alongside  of  him,  and  drops  his 
companion  just  behind  on  the  off  side; 
and  while  he  engages  the  elephant's  atten* 
tion  upon  the  horse,  the  footman  behind 
gives  him  a  drawn  stroke  just  above  the 
heel,  or  what  in  man  is  called  the  tendon 
of  Achilles.  This  is  the  critical  moment; 
the  horseman  immediately  wheels  round, 
takes  his  companion  up  behind  him,  and 
rides  off  full  speed  after  the  rest  of  the 
herd,  if  they  have  started  more  than  one ; 
and  sometimes  an  expert  agageer  will  kill 
three  out  of  one  herd.  If  the  sword  is 
good,  and  the  man  not  afraid,  the  tendon 
is  commonly  entirely  separated  ;  and  if  it 
is  not  cut'  through,  it  is  generally,  so  far 
divided,  that  the  animalj  with  the  stress 
he  puts  upon  it j  breaks  the  remaining  part 
asunder.  In  either  case,  he  remains  in- 
capable of  advancing  a  step,  till  the 
horseman's  return,  or  his  companions 
coming  up  pierce  him  through  with  jave- 
lins and  lances:  he  then  falls  to  the 
ground,  and  expires  with  loss  of  blood. 

The  agageer  nearest  me  presently  lamed 
his  elephant,  and  left  him  standing.  Ayto 
Engedan,  Ayto  Confu,  Guebra  Mariam, 
and  several  others,  fixed  their  spears  in 
the  other  before  the  agageer  had  cut  his 
tendons.  My  agageer,  however,  having 
wounded  the  first  elephant,  failed  in  the 
pursuit  of  the  second;  and  beingj  close 
upon  him  at  the  entrance  of  the  wood,  he 
received  a  violent  blow  from  the  branch 
of,  a  tree  which  the  elephant  had  bent  by 
his  weight^  and,  after  passing,  allowed 
it  to  replace  itself;  when  it  knocked  down 
both  the  riders,  and  very  much  hurt  the 
horse.  This,  indeed,  is  the  great  danger 
in  elephant-hunting  'y,  fop  some  of  the 
trees,  that  are  dry  and  short,  break  by 
the  violent  pressure  of  so  immense  a  body 
moving  so  rapidly,  and  fall  upon  the  pur- 
suers, or  across  the  roads.  But  the 
greatest  number  of  these  trees  being  of  a 
succulent  quality,  they  bend  without 
breaking,  and  return  quickly  to  the  former 
position,  when  they  strike  both  horse  and 
man  so  violently,  that  they  often  beat 
them  to  pieces.  Dexterous  too  as  the 
riders  are,  the  elephant  sometimes  reaches 
them  with  his  trunk,  with  which  he  dashes 
the  horse  against  the  ground,  and  then 
sets  his  feet  upon  him,  till  he  tears  him 
limb  from  limb  with  his  proboscis ;  a 


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TOE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


346 


great  many  hunters  die  this  way.  Besides 
this,  the  soil  at  this  time  of  the  year  is 
tplrt  into  deep  chawns,  or  cavities,  by  the 
neat  of  r the  sun,  so  that  nothing  can  be 
more  dangerous  than  the  riding. 

The  elephant  once  slain,  they  cut  the 
whole  of  the  flesh  off  his  bones  into  thongs, 
like  the  reins  of  a  bridle,  and  hang  these 
like  festoons  upon  the  branches  of  trees, 
till  they  become  perfectly  dry,  without 
salt ;  and  then  they  lay  them  up  for  their 
provisions  in  the  season  of  the  rains. 

A  very  interesting  account  of  the  affec- 
tion of  a  young  elephant  for  its  mother, 
concludes  Bruce's  description  of  this  cruel 
amusement. 

There  now  remained  but  two  elephants 
ef  those  that  had  been  discovered,  which 
were  a  she  one  with  a  <:alf.  The  agageer 
would  willingly  have  let  these  alone,  as 
the  teeth  of  the  female  are  very  small,  and 
the  young  one  is  of  no  sort  of  vake, 
even  for  food,  its  flesh  shrinking  much 
upon  dying ;  but  the  hunters  would  not 
be  limited  in  their  sport.  The  people 
having  observed  the  place  of  her  retreat, 
thither  we  eagerly  followed.  She  was 
very  soon  found,  and  as  soon  lamed  by 
ihe  agageers;  but  when  they  came  to 
wound  her  with  their  darts,  as  every  one 
did  in  turn,  to  our  very  great  surprise,  the 
voung  one,  which  had  been  suffered  to 
escape  unheeded  and  unpursued,  came 
out  from  the  thicket,  apparently  in  great 
anger,  running  upon  ihe  horses  and  men 
with  ail  the  violence  it  was  master  of.  I 
was  amazed,  and  as  .much  as  ever  1  was, 
u.pon  such  an  occasion,  afflicted  aj;  seeing 
the  great  affection  of  the  little  animal  de- 
fending its  wounded  mother,  heedless  of 
its  own  life  or  safety.  I  therefore  cried  to 
them  for  God's  sake  to  spare  the  mother, 
though  it  was  then  too  late  ;  and  the  calf 
had  made  several  rude  attacks  upon  me, 
which  I  avoided  without  difficulty  ;  but  I 
am  happy  to  this  day  in  the  reflection  that 
I  did  not  strike  it.  At  last,  making  one 
of  his  attacks  upon  Ayto  Engedan,  it 
hurt  him  a  little  upon  the  leg;  upon 
which  he  thrust  it  through  with  his  lance, 
as  others  did  after,  and  then  it  fell  dead 
before  its  wounded  mother,  whom  it  had 
so  affectionately  defended. 

The  bodies  of  elephants  are  frequently 
oiled, -tojprevent  the  effects  of  the  sun  on 
them.  They  are  fond  of  ahe  water  in  hot 
weather,  and  seem  delighted  when  they 
are  rubbed  with  a  brick,  or  any  hard 


substance,  on  the  upper  part  of  the  head. 
They  are  very  sure-footed,  have  an  active, 
shuffling  gait,  and  generally  travel  about 
three  or  four  miles  an  hour,  but  may  be 
urged  on  to  six  when  goaded  by  a  man 
who  ruas  behind  the  animal  for  that  pur- 
pose. They  are  very  fond  of  sugar-canes, 
and  the  leaves  of  the  banyan;  they  can 
free  a  cocoa-nut  from  its  tough  coat,  crack 
it,  and  take  out  the  nut  free  from  the  shell. 
A  small  race  of  elephants,  from  five  to 
six  feet  in  height,  are  much  used  about 
the  court  in  the  northern  part  of  India. 
When  the  elephant  passes  through  a 
crowd,  he  is  very  careful  to  open  a  way 
with  his  trunk,  that  he  may  not  injure 
any  one.  This  observation  is  strength- 
ened by  M.  d'Obsonville,  who 'informs  us 
that  the  baron  de  Lauriston  -was  induced 
to  go  to  Laknaor,  the  capital  of  the 
Soubah,  or  viceroyalty  of  that  name,  at  a 
time  when  an  epidemic  distemper  was 
making  the  greatest  ravages  amongst  the 
inhabitants.  The  principal  road  to  the 
palace  gate  was  covered  with  the  sick 
and  dying,  extended  on  the  ground,  at 
the  very  moment  when  the  nabob  must 
necessarily  pass.  It  appeared  impossible 
for  the  elephant  to  do  otherwise  than 
tread  upon  and  crush  many  of  these  poor 
wretches  in  his  passage,  unless  the  prince 
would  stop  till  the  way  could  be  cleared ; 
but  he  was  in  haste,  and  such  tenderness 
would  be  unbecoming. in  a  ,personage  of 
his  importance.  The  .elephant,  however, 
without  appearing  to  slacken  his  pace, 
and  without  having  received  any  com- 
mand for  that  purpose,  assisted  them  with 
his  .trunk,  removed  some,  and  stepped 
over  the  rest  with  so  much  address  and 
assiduity,  that  not  one  person  was 
wounded. 

The  proboscis  of  the  elephant  is  the 
most  distinguishing  character  in  his  for- 
mation. It  is  hollow  all  along,  but  with 
a  partition  running  from  one  end  of  it  to 
the  other;  so,  though  outwardly  it  ap- 
pears like  a  single  pipe,  it  is  inwardly 
divided  into  two.  This  fleshy  tube  is 
composed  of  nerves  and  muscles,  covered 
with  a  proper  skin  of  a  blackish  colour, 
like  that  of  the  rest  of  the  body.  It  is 
capable  of  being  moved  in  every  direc- 
tion, of  being  lengthened  and  shortened, 
of  being  bent  or  straightened,  so  pliant 
as  to  embrace  any  body  it  is  applied  to, 
and  yet  so  strong,  that  nothing  can  be 
torn  from  .the  .gripe.  To  aid  the  force  o- 
this  grasp,  there  are  little  eminences,  like 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


348 


a  caterpillar's  feet,  on  the  underside  of 
this  instrument,  which,  without  doubt, 
contribute  to  the  sensioility  of  the  touch 
as  well  as  to  firmness  of  the  hold. 
Through  this  trunk  the  animal  breathes, 
drinks,  and  smells,  as  through  a  tube ; 
and  at  the  very  point  of  it,  just  above  the 
nostrils,  there  is  an  extension  of  the  skin, 
about  five  inches  long,  in  the  form  of  a 
finger,  and  which,  in  fact,  answers  all  the 
purposes  of  one ;  for,  with  the  rest  of  the 
extremity  of  the  trunk,  it  is  capable  of 
assuming  different  forms  at  will,  and, 
consequently,  of  being  adapted  to  the 
minutest  objects.  By  means  of  this  the 
elephant  can  take  a  pin  from  the  ground, 
untie  the  knots  of  a  rope,  unlock  a  door, 
and  even  write  with  a  pen.  "  I  have 
myself  seen,"  says  ./Elian,  "  an  elephant 
writing  Latin  characters  on  a  board,  in  a 
very  orderly  manner,  his  keeper  only 
showing  him  the  figure  of  each  letter. 
While  thus  employed,  the  eyes  might  be 
observed  studiously  cast  down  upon  the 
writing,  and  exhibiting  an  appearance  of 
great  skill  and  erudition."  It  sometimes 
happens  that  the  object  is  too  large  for 
the  trunk  to  grasp ;  in  such  a  case  the 
elephant  makes  use  of  another  expedient, 
as  admirable  as  any  of  the  former.  It 
applies  the  extremity  of  the  trunk  to  the 
surface  of  the  object,  and,  sucking  up  its 
breath,  lifts  and  sustains  such  a  weight 
as  the  air  in  that  case  is  capable  of 
suspending.  In  this  manner  this  instru- 
ment is  useful  in  most  of  the  purposes  of 
life  ;  it  is  an  organ  of  smelling,  of  touch- 
ing, and  of  suction ;  it  not  only  provides 
for  the  animal's  necessities  and  comforts, 
but  it  also  serves  for  its  ornament  and 
defence. 


Mr.  Corse  affirms,  that  the  usual  height 
of  the  male  Asiatic  elephant  is  from  eight 
to  ten  feet,  and,  in  one  instance  only,  he 
saw  one  of  ten  feet  six  inches.  The  young 
one  at  its  birth  is  thirty-five  inches ;  one 
grew  eleven  inches  in  the  first  year ; 
eight,  six,  and  five,  in  the  three  succeed- 
ing years.  The  full  growth  is  at  nineteen 
years.  He  says,  elephants  that  have 
escaped  from  confinement  have  not  saga- 
city to  avoid  being  retaken,  and  they  will 
breed  in  confinement.  The  young,  he 
observes,  begin  to  nibble  and  suck  the 
breast  soon  after  birth,  pressing  it  with 
the  trunk,  which,  by  mutual  instinct,  they 
know  will  make  the  milk  flow  more  rea- 
dily into  their  mouths  while  sucking. 
Elephants  never  lie  down  to  give  their 


young  ones  suck  ;  and  it  often  happens, 
when  the  dam  is  tall,  that  she  is  obliged, 
for  some  time,  to  bend  her  body  towards 
her  young,  to  enable  him  to  reach  the 
nipple  with  his  mouth  ;  consequently,  if 
ever  the  trunk  were  used  to  lay  hold  of  the 
nipple,  it  would  be  at  this  period,  when 
he  is  making  laborious  efforts  to  reach  it. 
with  his  mouth,  but  which  he  could  al- 
ways easily  do  with  his  trunk  if  it  answer- 
ed the  purpose.  In  sucking,  the  young 
elephant  always  grasps  th.e  nipple,  which 
projects  horizontally  from  the  breast,  with 
his  mouth.  Mr.  Corse  often  observed 
this  ;  and  so  sensible  were  the  attendants 
of  it,  that,  with  them,  it  is  a  common 
practice  to  raise  a  small  mound  of  earth, 
about  six  or  eight  inches  high,  for  the 
young  one  to  stand  on,  and  to  save  the 
mother  the  trouble  of  bending  her  body 
every  time  she  gives  suck,  which  she  can- 
not readily  do  when  tied  to  her  picket. 
Tame  elephants  are  never  suffered  to  re- 
main loose  in  India,  as  instances  occur  of 
the  mother  leaving  even  her  young  and 
escaping  into  the  woods.  Another  cir- 
cumstance deserves  notice  :  if  a  wild  ele- 
phant happens  to  be  separated  from  he? 
young  for  only  two  days,  though  giving 
suck,  she  never  afterwards  recognises  it. 
This  separation  happened,  sometimes, 
unavoidably,  when  they  were  enticed, 
separately,  into  the  kiddah. 

Elephants  in  India  are  taught  to  re- 
verence the  various  sovereigns  to  whom 
they  belong,  when  they  appear  in  his 
presence.  They  are  then  trained  to  war- 
fare, and  rushing  upon  the  enemy,  as  if 
conscious  of  their  superior  strength,  beat 
down  all  before  them.  They  have  even 
been  known  to  brave  the  hottest  fire  of 
the  enemy's  artillery.  Beauleu,  in  his 
"  Voyage  to  the  East  Indies,"  mentions 
that  the  king  of  Achen  places  his  whote 
strength  in  nine  hundred  elephants,  which 
are  bred  to  tread  fire  under  their  feet,  and 
to  be  unmoved  at  the  shot  of  cannon,  and 
likewise  to  salute  the  king  when  they  pass 
by  his  apartments,  by  bending  their 
knees,  and  raising  their  trunks  three 
times.  This  traveller  adds,  that  they. are 
influenced  by  exemplary  punishment ; 
and  gives  an  instance  of  the  face.  The 
king  of  Achen,  he  says,  having  order- 
ed the  embarkation  of  a  hundred  ele- 
phants for  the  siege  of  Dehly,  when  they 
were  brought  to  the  coast  not  one  of 
them  would  enter  the  ship.  The  king 
being  acquainted  with  their  behaviour, 


349 


THE  EVERY- DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9, 


350 


went  in  person  to  the  shore,  and  after  ex- 
pressing passion  and  rage  at  their  dis- 
obedience, ordered  one  of  them  to  be  cut 
asunder  in  the  presence  of  the  rest ;  on 
which  they  all  peaceably  embarked,  and 
were  more  than  ordinary  tractable  during 
the  whole  voyage. 

White  elephants  are  reverenced 
throughout  the  east,  and  the  Chinese 
pay  them  a  certain  kind  of  worship.  The 
Burmese  monarch  is  called  the  "  king  of 
the  white  elephants,"  and  is  regarded  un- 
der that  title  with  more  than  the  ordinary 
veneration  which  oriental  despotism 
exacts  from  its  abject  dependants. 

The  little  island  of  Elephanta,  oppo- 
site to  the  fort  of  Bombay,  derives  its 
name  from  a  sculptured  figure  in  stone, 
of  the  natural  colour,  and  ordinary  size, 
of  the  animal.  It  is  elevated  on  a  plat- 
form of  stone  of  the  same  colour,  and  on 
the  back  of  this  granite  elephant  was  a 
smaller  one,  apparently  of  the  same 
stone,  which  had  been  broken  off.  There 
is  no  history,  nor  any  well  grounded  tra- 
dition, relative  to  this  statue.  The  island 
itself  is  distinguished  for  extraordinary 
antiquities,  particularly  a  magnificent 
temple  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  adorn- 
ed by  the  arts  of  sculpture  and  painting 
with  statues  and  pictures,  probably  of 
more  remote  age  than  the  earliest  efforts 
of  Greek  or  Roman  genius.  Many  of 
these  venerable  representations  suffered 
irreparable  injury,  and  vast  numbers 
were  wholly  destroyed,  by  the  barbarian 
ravages  of  the  Portuguese,  who  formerly 
obtained  possession  of  the  place,  and 
dragged  field-pieces  to  the  demolition  of 
these  the  most  curious,  and,  possibly,  the 
most  ancient  monuments  of  oriental 
grandeur.  Queen  Catharine  of  Portugal, 
who  held  the  island  in  dower,  was  so 
sensible  of  the  importance  of  this  spot, 
that  she  imagined  it  impossible  that  any 
traveller  on  that  side  of  India  would 
return  without  exploring  the  wonder?  of 
the  "  Cave  of  Elephanta.'*  The  island 
is  destitute  of  all  other  interest. 


That  elephants  are  susceptible  ,pf  the 
most  tender  attachment  to  each  other,  is 
evinced  by  the  following  occurrence, 
which  is  recorded  in  a  French  journal  : — 
Two  very  young  elephants,  a  male  and  a 
female,  were  brought  from  the  island  of 
Ceylon  to  Holland.  They  had  been 
separated  from  each  other  in  order  to  be 


conveyed  from  the  Hague  to  the  Museum 
of  Natural  History,  in  Paris,  where  a 
spacious  stable  had  been  constructed  fo- 
them.  This  was  divided  into  two  parti- 
tions, which  communicated  to  each  other 
by  means  of  a  trap-door.  Both  of  the 
divisions  were  surrounded  with  strong 
wooden  paling.  The  morning  after  their 
arrival  they  were  brought  into  this  habi- 
tation :  the  male  elephant  was  introduced 
first.  With  an  air  of  suspicion  he  ex- 
amined the  place,  tried  each  of  the  beams 
by  shaking  it  with  his  trunk  to  see  if  it 
was  fast.  He  endeavoured  to  turn  round 
the  large  screws  which  held  them  on  the 
outside,  but  this  he  found  impracticable. 
When  he  came  to  the  trap-door  between 
the  two  partitions,  he  discovered  that  it 
was  secured  only  by  a  perpendicular  iron 
bolt,  which  he  lifted  up,  pushed  open  the 
door,  and  went  into  the  other  partition, 
where  he  ate  his  breakfast. 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  these 
animals  had  been  separated  in  order  to 
be  conveyed  singly  to  Paris,  and  having 
now  not  seen  each  other  for  several 
months,  the  joy  they  expressed  at  meet- 
ing again  is  not  to  be  described.  They 
immediately  ran  to  each  other,  uttered  a 
cry  of  joy  that  shook  the  whole  building, 
and  blew  the  air  out  of  their  trunks  with 
such  violence,  that  it  seemed  like  the 
blast  of  a  smith's  bellows.  The  pleasure 
which  the  female  experienced  seemed  to 
be  the  most  lively ;  she  expressed  it  by 
moving  her  ears  with  astonishing  rapidity, 
and  tenderly  twining  her  trunk  round  the 
body  of  the  male.  She  laid  it  particularly 
to  his  ear,  where  she  held  it  for  a  con- 
siderable time  motionless,  and  after  hav- 
ing folded  it  again  round  his  whole  body, 
she  applied  it  to  her  own  mouth.  The 
male  in  like  manner  folded  his  trunk 
round  the  body  of  the  female ;  and  the 
pleasure  which  he  felt  at  their  meeting 
seemed  to  be  of  a  more  sentimental  cast, 
for  he  expressed  it  by  shedding  an  abun- 
dance of  tears.  Afterwards  they  had 
constantly  one  stable  in  common,  and  the 
mutual  attachment  between  them  excited 
the  admiration  of  every  beholder. 


The  following  example  shows  that  ele- 
phants are  capable  also  of  forming  at- 
tachments to  animals  of  a  different  spe- 
cies. 

An  elephant  which  the  Turkish  empe- 
ror sent  as  a  present  to  the  king  of  Naples, 
in  the  year  1740,  displayed  a  particular 
attachment  towards  a  ram,  that  was  con- 


3&1 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


fined,  together  with  some  other  animals, 
in  his  stable.  He  even  permitted  him  to 
butt  at  him  with  his  horns,  as  these  ani- 
mals are  wont  to  do.  But  if  the  ram 
abused  the  liberty  he  gave  him,  the  only 
punishment  he  inflicted  upon  him  for  it 
was,  that  he  took  him  up  with  his  trunk, 
and  threw  him  upon  a  dung-heap,  though 
if  any  of  the  other  animals  attempted  to 
take  liberties  with  him,  he  dashed  them 
with  such  violence  against  the  wall,  -that 
he  killed  them  on  the  spot. 

An  elephant,  rendered  furious  'by  the 
wounds  he  had  received  in  an  engage- 
ment at  Hambour,  rushed  into  the  plain 
uttering  the  most  hideous  cries.  A  sol- 
dier, whose  comrades  made  him  sensible 
of  his  danger  by  calling  to  him,  was 
unable  on  account  of  his  wounds,  to  re- 
treat with  sufficient  expedition  out  of  the 
way  of  the  enraged  animal.  But  the 
elephant,  when  he  came  to  him,  seemed 
to  be  apprehensive  lest  he  should  trample 
him  with  his  feet,  raised  him  with  his 
trunk,  and  ^having  'laid  him  gently  on  one 
side,  continued  'his  progress. 

At  Mahie,  on  the  coast  of  Malabar, 
the  owner  of  an  elephant  lent  him  out 
for  hire.  His  occupation  consisted  in 
drawing  timber  for  building  out  of  a 
river,  which  he  performed  very  dexter- 
ously with  his  trunk,  under  the  guid- 
ance of  a  boy.  He  then  piled  the  beams 
upon  each  other  with  such  regularity, 
that  no  human  being  could  have  done  it 
better. 

Elephants  do  not  merely  obey  the 
commands  of  their  keeper  while  he  is 
present,  but  they  perform  also  hi  his 
absence  the  most  singular  operations 
when  they  have  previously  "been  made 
acquainted  with  the  nature  of  them.  I 
once  saw,  says  JM.  d'Obsonville,  two 
elephants  employed  in  demolishing  a 
wall,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  pre- 
viously received  from  their  cornacks, 
who  had  encouraged  them  to  undertake 
the  task  by  a  promise  of  fruit  and 
brandy.  They  united  their  powers, 
placed  their  trunks  together,  which  were 
defended  by  a  covering  of  leather,  and 
pushed  with  them  against  the  strongest 
part  of  the  wall ;  repeated  their  efforts, 
carefully  watching  at  the  same  time  the 
effect  of  the  equilibrium,  which  they 
followed  till  the  whole  was  sufficiently 
loose,  when  they  exerted  their  whole 
strength  in  one  more  push,  after  -which 


they  speedily  retreated  out  of  the  reach  ot 
danger,  and  the  whole  wall  fell  to  the 
ground. 


Bosmann  relates,  that  in  December. 
1700,  an  elephant  came  at  six  o'clock  in 
the  morning  towards  Fort  Mina,  on  the 
Gold  Coast,  and  took  his  road  along  the 
river  at  the  foot  of  Mount  St.  Jago.  Some 
of  the  negroes  ran  unarmed  about  him, 
•which  he  .permitted  without  appearing  to 
be  in  the  least  degree  suspicious  of  them. 
But  a  Dutch  officer  shot  at  him,  and 
wounded  him  over  his  eye.  The  animal 
did  not  alter  his  course,  but  pricking  his 
ears,  proceeded  to  the  Dutch  garden, 
where  he  saw  the  director-general  and 
other  officers  belonging  to  the  fort,  sitting 
under  the  shade  of  some  palm-trees.  He 
had  torn  down  about  a  dozen  of  these 
trees  with  the  greatest  facility,  when 
upwards  of  an  hundred  bullets  were  dis- 
charged at  him.  He  bled  ewer  'his  whole 
body,  but  still  kept  his  legs,  and  did  not 
halt  in  the  least.  A  negro  now,  to  plague 
the  elephant.,  pulled  him  by  the  tail,  at 
which  the  animal,  being  provoked,  seized 
him  with  his  trunk,  threw  him  to  the 
ground,  and  thrust  his  tusks  twice  through 
his  body.  As  soon  as  the  negro  was 
killed,  he  turned  from  him,  and  suffered 
the  other  negroes  to  take  away  his  body 
unmolested.  He  now  remained  upwards 
of  an  hour  longer  in  the  garden,  and 
seemed  to  have  directed  his  attention  to 
the  Dutchmen  who  were  sitting  at  a  dis- 
tance of  fifteen  or  sixteen  paces  from  him. 
As  these  had  expended  their  ammuni- 
tion, and  feared  that  the  elephant  might 
attack  them,  they  made  their  retreat.  In 
the  mean  time  the  elephant  was  come  to 
another  gate,  and  although  the  garden- 
wall  consisted  of  a  double  row  of  stones, 
he  easily  threw  it  down,  and  went  out  by 
the  breach.  He  then  walked  slowly  to  a 
rivulet,  and  washed  off  the  blood  with 
which  he  was  covered  :  after  that  he  re- 
turned to  the  palm-trees,  and  broke  some 
boards  that  were  placed  there  for  the  pur- 
pose of  building  a  vessel.  The  Dutch- 
men had  in  the  mean  time  procured  a 
fresh  supply  of  powder  and  ball,  and  their 
repeated  shots  at  length  put  the  elephant 
outof  conditionto  make  further  resistance. 
They  then  with  great  difficulty  cut  oft 
his  trunk,  upon  which  the  elephant,  whc 
till  then  had  not  uttered  a  sound,  set  u/v 
a  hideous  roar,  threw  himself  down  under 
a  tree,  and  expired. 


353 


THE  £VEIIY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


354 


particulars  wmrerm'ttjj  (JHkp&ants  generallp* 


The  elephant  is  not  an  enemy  to  any 
other  animal  It  is  said  that  the  mouse 
is  the  only  quadruped  that  is  an  enemy  to 
him,  and  that  this  little  quadruped  holds 
him  in  perpetual  fear.  He  sleeps  with 
the  end  of  his  proboscis  so  close  to  the 
earth,  that  nothing  but  the  air  he  breathes 
can  get  between ;  for  the  mouse  is  affirm- 
ed to  enter  its  orifice,  when  he  finds  it 
possible,  and,  making  his  way  to  the  ele- 
phant's vital  parts  in  search  of  food  or 
shelter,  by  that  means  destroys  the  mighty 
tenement  wherein  his  own  littleness  is 
ensconced. 

The  great  dean  of  St.  Paul's,  if  he  may 
be  so  called  without  disparagement  to 
Colet,  has  two  noble  stanzas  on  this  sub- 
ject on  "The  Progress  of  the  Soul." 
They  were  read  to  the  editor  of  the  Every- 
Day  Book,  by  one  of  the  kindest  of  hu- 


man beings,  himself  a  poet,  from  his  own 
copy  of  the  book  wherein  the  hand  of  3 
friend,  the  greatest  living  poet,  and  per- 
haps the  greatest  mind  of  our  country 
hath  penned,  that  "  Donne's  rhythm  was 
as  inexplicable  to  the  many  as  blank 
verse,  spite  of  his  rhymes. — Not  one  in  a 
thousand  of  his  readers  have  any  notion 
how  his  lines  are  to  be  read.  To  read 
Dryden,  Pope,  &c.  you  need  only  count 
syllables ;  but  to  read  Donne  you  must 
measure  time,  and  discover  the  time  of 
each  word  by  the  sense  and  passion." 
Having  presumed  on  the  wonted  indulg- 
ence of  friendship,  by  this  transcription 
from  the  manuscript  notes  of  a  borrowed 
volume,  for  counsel  and  caution  in  the 
present  reader's  behalf,  the  verses  are  sub- 
mitted to  his  regard. 


Natures  great  master-piece,  an  Elephant, 
The  onely  harmelesse  great  thing ;  the  giant 
Of  beasts;  who  thought  none  had,  to  make  nim  wise, 
But  to  be  just,  and  thankful,  loth  t'  offend 
(Yet  nature  hath  given  him  no  knees  to  bend) 
Himself  he  up-props,  on  himself  relies, 
And  foe  to  none  ;  suspects  no  enemies, 
Still  sleeping  stood  ;  vext  not  his  fantasie 
Black  dreams,  like  an  unbent  bow  careiesly 
His  sinewy  Proboscis  did  remisly  lie. 

In  which  as  in  a  gallery  this  mouse 
Walk'd  and  survey 'd  the  rooms  of  this  vast  house, 
And  to  the  brain,  the  soul's  bed  chamber,  went, 
And  gnaw'd  the  life  cords  there ;  Like  a  whole  town 
Clean  undermined  the  slain  beast  tumbled  down ; 
With  him  the  murth'rer  dies,  whom  envy  sent 
To  Mil,  not  scape ;  for  onely  he  that  meant 
To  die,  did  ever  kill  a  man  of  better  roome ; 
And  thus  he  made  his  foe,  his  prey  and  tombe  : 
Who  cares  not  to  turn  back,  may  any  whither  come 


Donne. 


SThe  "  elephant,"  according  to  Randle 
Holme,  is  regarded,  in  heraldry,  as  "  the 
emblem  of  vigilance,  necjacet  in  somno  ; 
but,  like  a  faithful  watchman,  sleeps  in  a 
sentinel's  posture ;  it  denoteth  strength, 
ingenuity,  and  ambition  of  people's  praise; 
it  signifieth  also  meekness  and  devotion." 
He  mentions  an  elephant  argent  on  a 
ihield  gules,  that  "this  coat  is  born  by 
Jhe  name  of  Elphinston."  Describing 
VOL  II.— 64. 


that  "  they  (the  elephant)  aie  a  great  and 
vast  creature,"  he  says,  that  "  an  ele- 
phant's head  erased  gules,"  on  a  shield 
argent,  "  is  borne,  -by  the  name  of  Brod- 
ric."  In  explanation  of  this  bearing, 
Holme's  knowledge  seems  to  have  been 
more  correct  in  heraldry  than  in  natural 
history,  for  he  declares  that  "  this  should 
be  termed  a  she-elephant,  or  the  head  of 
a  female  elephant ;  by  reason  his  tusks  or 


355 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—MARCH  9. 


356 


teeth  stand  upwards,  and  the  male  stands 
downwards  ;  but  this,"  says  our  lament- 
ing herald,  "  is  a   thing   in   heraldry  not 
observed."  He  positively  affirms,  that  "  it 
were  sufficient  distinction  for  a  coat  of 
arms  between  families"  (!)  as  much  a  dis- 
tinction "  as  the  bearing  of  a  ram  and  a 
ewe,  or  a  lion  with  red   claws,  and  an- 
other with  yellow ;  and  much  more  (dis- 
tinctive)  than   ermyne    and     ermynites, 
(they)  being  both  one,  save  (that)  the  last 
hath  one  hair  of  red  on  each  side  of  every 
one  of  the  poulderings  :  a  thing  little  re- 
garded, makes  a  great  alteration  in  arms." 
His  discrepant  distinctions  between  the 
male  and  female  are  exceedingly  amus- 
ing, and  he  is  quite  as  diverting  with  their 
trunks.  He  figures  their  "  snowts  inwards, 
or  snowts  respected"  which,  he  says,  is 
11  a  term  used  when  things  (either  quick 
or  dead)    are,   as  it  were,   regarding    or 
looking  one  at  another.'*     Then  he  gives 
a  bearing  "Argent  out  of  a  coronet  or  ; 
two   proboscides   (or  trunks)  of  two  ele- 
phants   reflected    endorsed,  gules,    each 
adorned  with  three  trefoils,  vert.     This" 
says  Holme,    "  is  a  very    great  bearing 
amongst  the  Dutch,  as  their  books  of  he- 
rauldry  inform  me ;  for  there  is  scores  of 
those  families,  bear  the  elephant's  trunk 
thus  :    some  adorned  with  roses,  leaves, 
pendants,  crosses,  or  with  other  varieties 
of  things,  each  set  at  a  certain  distance 
from   the   trunk  by   a  footstalk.     Now," 
he  goes  on  to    say,  with    a  hand    most 
carefully  pointing  to  the  important  fact, 
thus — "  ^^^Now,  in  the  blazon  of  such 
coates,  you  must  first  observe  the  reflec- 
tion   of    the    proboscides^    whether    the 
snowts  stand  respected,  or  endorsed ;  and 
then  to  tell  the  exact  number  of  things, 
each  one  is  endorsed  withall :  for  in  some, 
they  will   have  one  thing  apeece,  others 
2,  3,  4,  5,  &c.     Some,  again,   will    have 
(with  the  sides,  and   others  without  the 
sides,  adorning,)  such  and  such  things  set 
in  the  concave  or  hole  of  the  snowt."     He 
refers   to    precedents    for  these  essential 
particulars,  and  in   a  page,  wherein    he 
assigns  "  the  left  arm  of  a  devil,  or  fiend 
with  a  devil-like  foot,"  for  "  the  coat  of 
Spittachar,"   he  gives  to   "the   name  of 
Oberstagh,"  on  a  field  argent,  "  the  pro- 
boscide    of    an    elephant     erected    and 
couped,  bowed  or  imbowed,  or  ;  maned, 
or  haired,  to  the  middle,  azure  ;  and  col- 
lared at  the  bottom  with  an  hawk's  bill 
fixed  thereunto,  gules ;  out  of  the  snowte, 
a  Dutch  fane  pendant  sable."     So  like- 
wise by  taking,  for  your  guide,  his  de- 


scriptions under  a  "  demy  talbot,  his  feet 
converted,  turned,  or  metamorphosed 
into  elephants'  snowts,  with  two  flowers 
de  lis  issuant,  you  shall  have  demy  men, 
women,  lions,  and  other  creatures  born 
with  several  sorts  of  things  in  the  places 
of  hands  and  feet."  We  will  not,  how- 
ever, travel  on  his  "  elephants'  snouts  in 
coat  armour,'*  beyond  a  field  or,  with 
"  the  proboscide  of  an  elephant,  erected, 
flexed  and  recurved  gules,  issuing  out  of 
a  pierced  place  ;  towards  the  basis  there- 
of, a  rose-sprig  vertant  et  revertant,  about 
the  trunk  to  the  middle  thereof  proper" 
According  to  Holme,  this  elegant  bear- 
ing may  be  claimed  by  any  reader  who 
has  the  happiness  to  bear  "  the  name  01 
Van  Snotflough."  Concerning,  however, 
"  snowts  bowed,  and  imbowed,  erected 
and  couped,"  Holme  guardedly  adds 
that  "these  things,  though  I  from  my 
author,  and  from  their  similitude  to  an 
elephant's  trunk,  have  all  along  termed 
them  so,  yet,  in  my  judgment  theywouid 
pass  better  for  horns,  and  I  take  them  to 
be  absolute  horns."  Thus,  "  at  one  fell 
swoop,"  when  destitute  readers  may  be 
large  with  speculation  raised  by  our  friend 
Holme,  he  disturbs  their  fond  regards, 
and  they  who  contemplate  glorious 
"  atchievements"  with  the  "  proboscides 
of  elephants,"  must  either  content  them- 
selves with  "  absolute  horns,"  or  gaze  on 
empty  "fields." 

In  several  parts  of  India,  elephants  are 
employed  to  perform  upon  criminals  the 
office  of  an  executioner.  With  their 
trunks  they  break  the  limbs  of  the  cul- 
prit, trample  him  to  death,  or  impale  him 
upon  their  tusks,  according  as  they  are 
ordered  by  their  master. 

This  use  of  elephants  in  the  east,  and 
their  sagacity,  is  alluded  to  by  one  of  our 
poets  :— 

Borri  records  their  strength  of  parts, 

Extent  of  thought,  and  skill  in  arts  ; 

How  they  perform  the  law's  decrees, 

And  save  the  state  the  hangman's  fees  : 

And  how  by  travel  understand 

The  language  of  another  land. 

Let  those  who  question  this  report^ 

To  Pliny's  ancient  page  resort  j 

How  learn'd  was  that  sagacious  breed, 

Who  now,  like  them,  the  Greek  can  read. 


The  author  ot  "  The  Chase'*  elegantly 
describes  one  of  the  devices  by  which  the 
elephant  is  caught  in  his  own  domains  :  — 


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THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


358 


On  distant  Ethiopia's  sunburnt  coasts, 
Tne  black  inhabitants  a  pitfall  frame, 
With  slender  poles  the  wide  capacious  mouth, 
And  hurdles  slight,  they  close  ;  o'er  these  is  spread 
A  floor  of  verdant  turf,  with  all  its  flowers 
Smiling  delusive,  and  from  strictest  search 
Concealing  the  deep  grave  that  yawns  below. 
Then  boughs  of  trees  they  cut,  with  tempting  fruit 
Of  various  kinds  surcharg'd,  the  downy  peach, 
The  clustering  vine,  and  of  bright  golden  rind 
The  fragrant  orange.     Soon  as  evening  grey 
Advances  slow,  besprinkling  all  around 
With  kind  refreshing  dews  the  thirsty  globe, 
The  stately  elephant  from  the  close  shade 
With  step  majestic  strides,  eager  to  taste 
The  cooler  breeze,  that  from  the  sea-beat  shore 
Delightful  breathes,  or  in  the  limpid  stream 
To  lave  his  panting  sides ;  joyous  he  scents 
The  rich  repast,  unweeting  of  the  death 
That  lurks  within.     And  soon  he  sporting  breaks 
The  brittle  boughs,  and  greedily  devours 
The  fruit  delicious.     Ah  !  too  dearly  bought ; 
The  price  is  life.     For  now  the  treacherous  turf 
Trembling  gives  way ;  and  the  unwieldy  beast 
Self  sinking,  drops  into  the  dark  profound. 
So  when  dilated  vapours,  struggling,  heave 
Th'  incumbent  earth ;  if  chance  the  cavernM  ground 
Shrinking  subside,  and  the  thin  surface  yield, 
Down  sinks  at  once  the  ponderous  dome,  ingulph'd 
With  all  its  towers. 


Sowervile. 


According  to  Bayle,  the  Romans  called 
elephants  Boves  Lucas,  because,  as  it  is 
reported,  they  saw  them  for  the  first  time 
in  Lucania,  during  a  great  battle  with 
Pyrrhus.  The  issue  of  the  conflict  was 
extremely  doubtful,  for  the  ground  on 
both  sides  was  lost  and  won  seven  times; 
but,  at  last,  the  Epirotes  got  the  victory 
by  means  of  their  elephants,  whose  smell 
frighted  the  Roman  horses.  In  a  subse- 
quent engagement  they  were  fatal  to 
Pyrrhus;  they  threw  his  troops  into  dis- 
order, and  the  Romans  we're  victorious. 


Elephantiasis  is  a  disease  in  man,  de- 
riving its  name  from  the  elephant,  who  is 
also  afflicted  with  a  similar  disorder.  It  is 
also  called  the  Arabian  leprosy.  Medical 
treatises  describe  its  appearances,  mode 
of  cure  in  the  human  being.  As  few 
readers  possess  elephants,  it  will  not  be 
necessary  to  say  more  of  it,  than  that  it  is 
cutaneous  ;  and  that  to  prevent  it  in  the 
elephant,  the  Indians  apply  oil  to  the 
animal's  skin,  which,  to  preserve  its  plian- 
cy, they  frequently  bathe  with  the  unc- 
tuous fluid. 


Some  parts  of  the  elephant's  skin,  which 
are  not  callous,  are  seized  upon  by  flies, 
and  they  torture  the  animal  exceedingly. 
His  tail  is  too  short  to  reach  any  por- 
tion of  his  body,  and  his  trunk  alone  is 
insufficient  to  defend  him  from  myriads 
of  his  petty  enemies.  In  his  native  forests 
he  snaps  branches  from  the  trees,  and 
with  his  trunk  brushes  off  his  tormentors, 
and  fans  the  air  to  prevent  their  settling 
on  him.  In  a  confined  state,  he  converts 
a  truss  of  hay  into  a  wisp  for  the  same 
purpose ;  and  he  often  gathers  up  the  dust 
with  his  trunk  and  covers  the  sensible 
places. 


It  is  related  by  M.  Navarette,  that  at 
Macassar,  an  elephant  driver  had  a  cocoa 
nut  given  him,  which,  out  of  wantonness, 
he  struck  twice  against  his  elephant's 
forehead  to  break,  and  that,  the  day  fol- 
lowing, the  animal  saw  some  cocoa  nuts 
exposed  in  the  street  for  sale,  one  of  which 
he  took  up  with  his  trunk,  and  beat  it 
about  the  driver's  head,  till  the  man  was 
completely  dead.  "  This  comes,"  says 
our  author,  "  of  jesting  with  elephants."' 


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3fiO 


A  sentinel  at  the  Menagerie  in  Paris, 
•used  often  to  desire  the  visitors  not  to 
give  the  elephants  any  thing  to  eat. 
This  admonition  was  particularly  dis- 
agreeable to  the  female  elephant,  and  she 
took  a  great  dislike  to  the  sentinel.  She 
had  several  times  endeavoured  to  make 
him  desist  from  interfering,  by  squirting 
water  over  his  head,  but  without  effect. 
One  day,  when  several  persons  came  to 
see  these  animals,  one  of  them  offered  a 
piece  of  bread  to  the  female,  which  being 
perceived  by  the  sentinel,  just  as  he  was 
opening  his  mouth  to  repeat  his  usual 
admonition,  the  elephant  stepped  oppo- 
site to  him,  and  threw  a  large  quantity  of 
water  into  his  face.  This  excited  the 
laughter  of  all  the  by-standers ;  but 
the  sentinel  coolly  wiped  his  face,  placed 
himself  a  little  on  one  side,  and  was  as 
usual  very  vigilant.  Not  long  after  he 
again  found  occasion  to  repeat  his  for- 
mer admonition  to  the  spectators ;  but 
scarcely  had  he  done  it  when  the  elephant 
tore  his  musket  out  of  his  hand,  wound 
her  trunk  round  it,  trod  upon  it,  and  did 
not  deliver  it  again  to  him  till  after  she 
had  twisted  it  completely  into  the  form  of 
a  screw. 

A  person  resident  in  Ceylon,  near  a 
place  where  elephants  were  daily  led  to 
water,  often  used  to  sit  at  the  door  of  his 
house,  and  occasionally  to  give  to  one 
of  these  animals  some  fig-leaves,  a  food 
to  which  elephants  are  very  partial. 
Once  he  took  it  into  his  head  to  play  the 
elephant  a  trick.  He  wrapped  a  stone 
round  with  fig-leaves,  and  said  to  the 
cornack  (the  keeper  of  the  elephants) 
"This  time  I  will  give  him  a  stone  to  eat, 
and  see  how  it  will  agree  with  him." 
The  cornack  answered,  "  that  the  ele- 
phant would  not  be  such  a  fool  as  to 
swallow  the  stone."  The  man,  however, 
reached  the  stone  to  the  elephant,  who 
taking  it  with  his  trunk  applied  it  to  his 
mouth,  and  immediately  let  it  fall  to  the 
ground.  "  You  see,"  said  the  cornack, 
"  that  I  was  right."  Saying  these 
words,  he  drove  away  his  elephants, 
and  after  having  watered  them,  was  con- 
ducting them  again  to  their  stable.  The 
man  who  had  played  the  elephant  the 
trick  with  the  stone  was  still  sitting  at 
nis  door,  when,  before  he  was  aware,  the 
animal  made  at  him,  threw  his  trunk 
round  him,  and  dashing  him  to  the 
ground  trampled  him  immediately  to 
death-  


All  Naples,  says  Sonnini,  in  one  of  his 
notes  to  Buffon's  "  Natural  History,"  has 
witnessed  the  docility  and  sagacity  of  an 
elephant  that  belonged  to  the  king.  He 
afforded  great  assistance  to  the  masons 
that  were  at  work  upon  the  palace,  by 
reaching  them  the  water  they  required, 
which  he  fetched  in  large  copper  vessels 
from  a  neighbouring  well.  He  had  ob- 
served that  these  vessels  were  carried  to 
the  brazier's  when  they  wanted  any  re- 
pair. Observing,  therefore,  one  day  that 
the  water  ran  out  at  the  bottom  of  one  of 
them,  he  carried  it  of  his  own  accord 
to  the  brazier,  and  having  waited  while  it 
was  repairing,  received  it  again  from  him, 
and  returned  to  his  work.  This,  elephant 
used  to  go  about  the  streets  of  Naples 
without  ever  injuring  any  one :  he  was 
fond  of  playing  with  children,  whom  he 
took  up  with  his  trunk,  placed  them  on 
his  back,  and  set  them  down  again  on 
the  ground  without  their  ever  receiving 
the  smallest  hurt. 

There  is  a  remarkable  instance  of  an 
elephant's  attachment  to  a  very  young 
child.  The  animal  was  never  happy  but 
when  it  was  near  him :  the  nurse  used, 
therefore,  very  frequently  to  take  the 
child  in  its  cradle,  and  place  it  between 
his  feet,  and  this  he  became  at  length  so 
accustomed  to,  that  he  would  never  eat 
his  food  except  when  it  was  present. 
When  the  child  slept  he  used  to  drive  off 
the  flies  with  his  proboscis,  and  when  it 
cried  he  would  move  the  cradle  backward 
and  forward,  and  thus  again  rock  it  to 
sleep. 

.ZElian  relates  that  a  man  of  rank  in 
India,  having  very  carefully  trained  up 
a  female  elephant,  used  daily  to  ride 
upon  her,  and  gave  her  many  proofs  of 
his  attachment  to  her.  The  king  of  the 
country,  who  had  heard  of  the  extraor- 
dinary gentleness  and  capacity  of  this 
animal,  demanded  her  of  her  owner  ; 
but  he,  unwilling  to  part  with  his  fa- 
vourite, fled  with  her  to  the  mountains. 
By  order  of  the  king  he  was  pursued, 
and  the  soldiers  that  were  sent  after  him 
having  overtaken  him  when  he  was  at 
the  top  of  a  steep  hill,  he  defended  him- 
self by  throwing  stones  at  them,  in  which 
he  was  faithfully  assisted  by  the  ele- 
phant, who  had  learnt  to  throw  stones 
with  great  dexterity.  At  length,  how- 
ever, the  soldiers  gained  the  summit  of 
the  hill,  and  were  about  to  seize  the 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


362 


fugitive,  when  the  elephant  rushed 
amongst  them  with  the  utmost  fury, 
trampled  some  of  them  to  death,  dashed 
others  to  the  ground  with  her  trunk,  and 
put  the  rest  to  flight.  She  then  placed 
her  master,  who  was  wounded  in  the 
contest,  upon  her  back,  and  conveyed 
him  to  a  place  of  security.  There  are 
numerous  well-attested  anecdotes  of  simi- 
lar instances  of  the  affection  of  elephants 
towards  their  owners. 

If  elephants  meet  with  a  sick  or 
wounded  animal  of  their  own  species, 
they  afford  him  all  the  assistance  in  their 
power.  Should  he  die,  they  bury  him, 
and  carefully  cover  his  body  with  branches 
of  trees. 

During  a  war  in  the  East  Indies,  an 
elephant,  that  had  received  a  flesh-wound 
from  a  cannon-ball,  was  conducted  twice 
or  thrice  to  the  hospital,  where  he  stretch- 
ed himself  upon  the  ground  to  have  his 
wounds  dressed.  He  afterwards  always 
went  thither  by  himself.  The  surgeon 
employed  such  means  as  he  thought  would 
conduce  to  his  cure  ;  he  several  times 
even  cauterized  the  wound,  and  although 
the  animal  expressed  the  pain  which  this 
operation  occasioned  him,  by  the  most 
piteous  groaning,  yet  he  never  showed 
any  other  sentiments  towards  the  opera- 


tor than  those  of  gratitude  and  affection. 
The  surgeon  was  fortunate  enough  to 
completely  cure  him. 

There  is  a  further  anecdote  of  this  ani- 
mal's gratitude.  A  soldier  at  Pondi- 
cherry,  who  was  accustomed,  whenever 
he  received  a  portion  that  came  to  his 
share,  to  carry  a  certain  quantity  of  it  to 
an  elephant,  having  one  day  drank  rather 
too  freely,  and  finding  himself  pursued  by 
the  guards,  who  were  going  to  take  him 
to  prison,  took  refuge  under  the  elephant's 
body  and  fell  asleep.  In  vain  did  the 
guard  try  to  force  him  from  this  asylum : 
the  elephant  protected  him  with  his  trunk. 
The  next  morning  the  soldier  recovering 
from  his  drunken  fit,  shuddered  to  find 
himself  stretched  under  the  belly  of  this 
huge  animal.  The  elephant,  which,  with- 
out doubt,  perceived  the  embarrassment  of 
the  poor  fellow,  caressed  him  with  his 
trunk,  in  order  to  dissipate  his  fears,  and 
make  him  understand  that  he  might  now 
depart  in  safely, 

It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  the  poet 
of  "  The  Seasons  "  refers  to  the  sagacity 
of  the  elephant,  his  seclusion  in  his  natu- 
ral state,  the  arts  by  which  he  is  ensnared, 
the  magnificence  of  his  appearance  m 
oriental  solemnities,  and  his  use  in  war- 
fare : — 


Peaceful,  beneath  primeval  trees,  that  cast 
Their  ample  shade  o'er  Niger's  yellow  stream, 
And  where  the  Ganges  rolls  his  sacred  wave ; 
Or  mid  the  central  depth  of  blackening  woods, 
High  rais'd  in  solemn  theatre  around, 
Leans  the  huge  elephant :  wisest  of  brutes  ! 
()  truly  wise  !  with  gentle  might  endow'd, 
Though  powerful,  not  destructive!     Here  he  sees 
Revolving  ages  sweep  the  changeful  earth, 
And  empires  rise  and  fall ;  regardless  he 
Of  what  the  never-resting  race  of  men 
Project  :  thrice  happy  !  could  he  'scape  their  guile, 
Who  mine,  from  cruel  avarice,  his  steps ; 
Or  with  his  towery  grandeur  swell  their  state, 
The  pride  of  kings  !  or  else  his  strength  pervert, 
And  bid  him  rage  among  the  mortal  Iray, 
Astonish'd  at  the  madness  of  mankind. 

Thomson 


On  the  27th  of  September,  1763,  cap- 
tain Sampson  presented  an  elephant, 
brought  by  him  from  Bengal,  to  his  ma- 
jesty, at  the  queen's  house.  It  was  con- 
ducted from  Rotherhithe  that  morning  at 
two  o'clock,  and  two  blacks  and  a  seaman 


rode  on  his  back.     The  animal  wa's  about 
eight  feet  high. 

The  zebra,  now  well  known  from  its 
being  frequently  brought  into  this  coun- 
try, was  at  that  time  almost  a  "  stranger 
in  England."  One  of  them  having  been 


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THE  EVERY-DA\  BOOK.— MARCH  9. 


-364 


given  to  her  Lite  majesty  queen  Charlotte, 
obtained  the  name  of  the  "  queen's  ass," 
and  was  honoured  by  a  residence  in  the 
tower,  whither  the  elephant  was  also  con- 
veyed. Their  companionship  occasioned 
some  witticisms,  of  which  there  remains 
this  specimen. 

EPIGRAM 

On  the  Elephant's   being  placed  in  the 
same   cable  with  the  Zebra. 

Ye  critics  so  learn 'd,  whence  comes  it  to  pass 
That  the  elephant  wise  should  be  plac'd  by 

an  ass  ? 

This  matter  so  strange  I'll  unfold  in  a  trice, 
Some  asses  of  state  stand  in  need  of  advice 
To  screen  them  from  justice,  lest  in  an  ill 

hour, 
In  the  elephant's  stead  they  be  sent  to   the 

tower. 

On  the  occasion  of  captain  Sampson's 
present  to  the  king,  several  accounts  of 
the  elephant  were  written.  One  of  them 
says,  that  "  the  largest  and  finest  ele- 
phants in  the  world  are  those  in  the 
island  of  Ceylon;  next  to  them,  those  of 
the  continent  of  India ;  and  lastly,  the 
elephant  of  Africa."  The  Moors,  who 
deal  in  these  animals  throughout  the  In- 
dies, have  a  fixed  price  for  the  ordinary 
sort,  according  to  their  size.  They  mea- 
sure from  the  nail  of  the  fore  foot  to  the 
top  of  the  shoulder,  and  for  every  cubit 
high  they  give  after  the  rate  of  100J.  of 
our  money.  An  African  elephant  of  the 
largest  size -measures  about  nine  cubits, 
or  thirteen  feet  and  a  half  in  height,  and 
is  worth  about  900/.,  but  of  the  breed  of 
Ceylon,  four  times  that  sum/' 

Tavernier,  in  proof  of  the  superio- 
rity of  the  elephant  of  Ceylon,  says, 
"  One,  I  will  tell  you,  hardly  to  be  be- 
lieved, but  that  which  is  a  certain  truth, 
which  is,  that  when  any  other  king,  or 
rajah,  has  one  of  these  elephants  of  Cey- 
lon, if  they  bring  them  any  other  breed  in 
any  other  place  whatever,  so  soon  as  the 
other  elephants  behold  the  Ceylon  ele- 
phants, by  an  instinct  of  nature,  they  do 
them  reverence,  by  laying  their  trunks 
upon  the  ground,  and  raising  them  up 
again." 

Though  Caesar  does  not  mention  the 
fact  in  his  commentaries,  yet  it  is  certain 
that  he  brought  elephants  with  him  to 
England,  and  that  they  contributed  to 
his  conquest  of  our  predecessors.  Poly- 


aenus  in  his  "  Stratagems,"  says,  "Caesar 
in  Britain  attempted  to  pass  a  great  river, 
(supposed  the  Thames  :)  Casolaunus,  (in 
Caesar,  Cassivellaunus)  king  of  the  Britons, 
opposed  his  passage  with  a  large  body  of 
horse  and  chariots.  Caesar  had  in  his 
company  a  vastly  large  elephant,  (peyisros 
l\€<£as)  a  creature  before  that  time  un- 
known to  the  Britons.  This  elephant  he 
fenced  with  an  iron  coat  of  mail,  built  a 
large  turret  on  it,  and  putting  up  bowmen 
and  slingers,  ordered  them  to  pass  first 
into  the  stream.  The  Britons  were  dis- 
mayed at  the  sight  of  such  an  unknown 
and  monstrous  beast,  (aopalov  «'  virepoQes 
0r)piov)  they  fled,  therefore,  with  their 
horses  and  chariots,  and  the  Romans 
passed  the  river  without  opposition, 
terrifying  their  enemies  by  this  single 
creature." 

In  1730,  or  1731,  some  workmen  dig- 
ging the  great  sewer  in  Pall  Mall,  "  over 
against  the  King's  Arms  tavern,"  dis- 
covered at  the  depth  of  twenty-eight  feet, 
several  bones  of  an  elephant.  The  strata 
below  the  surface  were  ten  or  twelve  feet 
of  artificial  soil ;  below  that  four  or  five 
feet  of  yellow  sand,  varying  in  colour  till 
they  came  to  the  bed  wherein  the  bones 
were  found,  which  consisted  of  exceed- 
ingly fine  sand  similar  to  that  dug  on 
Harnpstead  heath. 

About  eighteen  years  previously,  ele- 
phants' bones  were  discovered  in  digging 
in  St.  James's-square ;  and  about  four- 
teen years  before  that  some  were  found 
in  the  same  place.  These  various 
animal  remains  in  that  neighbourhood 
lay  at  about  the  same  depth. 

In  1740,  the  remains  of  an  elephant 
were  discovered  by  some  labourers  while 
digging  a  trench  in  the  park  of  Frances 
Biddulph,  esq.  at  Benton,  in  Sussex. 
The  bones  did  not  lie  close  together  as 
those  of  a  skeleton  usually  do.  It  was 
evident  that  the  various  parallel  strata  of 
the  earth  had  never  been  disturbed ;  it 
was  concluded  that  these  animal  de- 
posits had  remained  there  from  the  period 
of  the  deluge,  when  it  was  presumed  that 
they  had  been  conveyed  and  there,  left, 
on  the  subsidence  of  the  waters. 

In  1756,  the  workmen  of  a  gentleman, 
digging  upon  a  high  hill  near  Mendip  for 
ochre  and  ore,  discovered,  at  the  depth  of 
315  feet  from  the  surface,  four  teeth,  not 
tusks,  and  two  thighbones  with  part  of  the 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  10. 


366 


nead  of  an  elephant.  Remains  of  the  same 
animal  have  been  at  periods  discovered 
at  Mersey  Island  in  Essex,  at  Harwich, 
at  Chartham  near  Canterbury,  at  Bowden 
Parva,  in  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  Northampton- 
shire, and  in  various  other  parts  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland.  Elephant's  teeth 
were  discovered  at  Islington,  in  digging  a 
gravel  pit. 

Shakspeare,  in  "Troilus  and  Cres- 
sida,"  compares  the  slowness  of  Ajax  to 
that  of  the  elephant ;  and  in  the  same 
play  he  again  compares  him  to  the  same 
animal,  and  afterwards  continues  the 
comparison. 

There  is  reason  to  believe,  that  the 
elephant  was  adopted  at  that  period  as 
the  sign  of  a  public  inn.  Antonio  in 
"  Twelfth  Night "  tells  Sebastian,— 

"  In  the  south  suburbs  at  the  Elephant 
Is  best  to  lodge  :  I  will  bespeak  our  diet, 
^Vrhile  you  beguile  your  time." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  39  •  65. 

10. 

Benjamin  West. 

A  few  anecdotes  of  this  eminent  painter, 
who  died  on  the  10th  of  March,  1820, 
are  related  in  vol.  i.  p.  346.  By  the  fa- 
vour of  a  gentleman  who  possesses  letters 
from  him,  the  reader  is  presented  with 

Mr.  West's  Autograph. 


f 


Another  gentleman,  an  artist,  has 
obligingly  made  a  drawing  from  the  bust 
by  Mr.  Behnes,  in  sir  John  Leicester's 
gallery,  and  thrown  in  some  touches  from 
intimate  acquaintance  with  Mr.  West,  in 
his  last  illness,  to  convey  an  idea  of  his 
friend's  last,  looks. 


^Benjamin 


367 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  11. 


368 


The  elegant  volume  descriptive  of  sir 
John  Leicester's  gallery,  contains  an  out- 
line of  Mr.  Behnes'  bust ;  the  outline 
of  that  delineation  is  preserved  in  the 
preceding  sketch,  because  it  is  familiar 
Mr.  Behnes  conveys  to  us  the  apostolic 
simplicity  of  "West's  character,  and 
the  present  engraving  may  be  regard- 
ed as  inviting  the  admirers  of  the 
genius  of  the  late  president  of  the  royal 


academy ,who  have  not  seen  the  marble,  to 
view  it,  in  sir  John  Leicester's  noble  col- 
lection of  works  of  British  artists,  which 
during  a  stated  season  every  year  is 
liberally  opened  to  public  inspection. 

In  "The  Examiner"  of  the  10th  of 
March,  1816,  there  are  some  lines,  too 
beautiful  in  sentiment  to  be  passed  over 
on  any  day. 


PROVIDENCE. 
From  the  Italian  of  Filicaia. 

Just  as  a  mother  with  sweet  pious  face 

Yearns  tow'rds  her  little  children  from  her  seat, 
Gives  one  a  kiss,  another  an  embrace, 

Takes  this  upon  her  knees,  that  on  her  feet : 
And  while  from  actions,  looks,  complaints,  pretences, 

She  learns  their  feelings  and  their  various  will, 
To  this  a  look,  to  that  a  word  dispenses, 

And  whether  stern  or  smiling,  loves  them  still  :— 

So  Providence  for  us,  high,  infinite, 
-Makes  our  necessities  its  watchful  task, 

Hearkens  to  all  our  prayers,  helps  all  our  wants  ; 
And  ev'n  if  it  denies  what  seems  our  right, 
Either  denies  because  'twould  have  us  ask, 
Or  seems  but  to  deny,  or  in  denying  grants. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  •  90, 


11. 

Newark  Custom, 

FOUNDED  ON  &  DREAM. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Newark,  Feb.  1826. 
A  curious  traditional  story  of  a  very 
extraordinary  deliverance    of    alderman 
Hercules  Clay,  and  his  family,  by  a  dream, 
is  at  your  service. 

I  am,  &c. 
BENJAMIN  JOHNSON. 

On  March  11,  every  year,  at  Newark- 
upon-Trent,  penny  loaves  are  given  away 
to  every  one  who  chooses  to  appear  at 
the  town-hall,  and  apply  for  them,  in 
commemoration  of  the  deliverance  of 
Hercules  Clay,  during  the  siege  of  New- 
ark by  the  parliamentary  forces.  This 
Hercules  Clay,  by  will  dated  llth  of  De- 


cember, 1694,  gave  to  the  mayor  and  al- 
dermen one  hundred  pounds,  to  be  placed 
at  interest  by  the  vicar's  consent  for  his 
benefit,  to  preach  a  sermon  on  the  1 1  th 
day  of  March,  annually,  and  another 
hundred  pounds  to  be  secured  and  ap- 
plied in  like  manner  for  the  poor  of  the 
town  of  Newark,  which  is  distributed  as 
above-mentioned.  The  occasion  of  this 
bequest  was  singular.  During  the  bom- 
bardment of  the  town  of  Newark,  by  the 
parliament  army  under  Oliver  Cromwell, 
Clay  (then  a  tradesman  residing  in 
Newark  market-place)  dreamed  three 
nights  successively,  that  his  house  was  set 
fire  to  by  the  besiegers.  Impressed  by 
the  repetition  of  this  warning,  as  he  consi- 
dered it,  he  quitted  his  house,  and  in  the 
course  of  a  few  hours  after  the  prediction 
was  fulfilled. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

1727.  March  11.  The  equestrian  sta- 
tue of  king  George  I.,  in  Grosvenor- 
square,  was  much  defaced  j  the  left  leg 
torn  off,  the  sword  and  truncheon  broken 
off,  the  neck  hacked  as  if  designed  to  cut 
off  the  head,  and  a  libel  left  at  the  place.* 


British  Chronologist. 


369 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  12. 


370 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  60. 


1826.    Fifth  Sunday  in  Lent. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  12th  of  March,  1808,  died,  at 
West  Ham,  in  Essex,  George  Gregory, 
D.  D.  vicar  of  that  parish.     He  was  de- 
scended from  a  respectable  family,  origi- 
nally from  Scotland,  a  branch  of  which 
was  settled  in  Ireland.     His  father,  who 
had    been   educated   in   Trinity-college, 
Dublin,  held,  at  the  time  of  his  son's  birth, 
the  living  of  Edernin,  and  a  prebend  in 
the  cathedral  of  Ferns.     Dr.  Gregory  was 
born  on  April  14,  1754,  but  whether  in 
Dublin  or  in  Lancashire,  of  which  county 
his  mother  was   a  native,  is  uncertain. 
When  twelve  years  of  age,  at  the  death  o. 
his  father,  he  was  removed  to  Liverpool, 
where   his   mother  fixed   her   residence, 
desiring  to  place  him  in  commerce  ;  but  a 
taste  for  literature  being  his  ruling  pro- 
pensity,  he  studied  in  the  university  of 
Edinburgh,   in   1776   entered   into   holy 
orders,  and  his  first  station  in  the  church 
was  in  the  capacity  of  a  curate  at  Liver- 
pool.      His     attachments    were    chiefly 
among  the  liberal  and  literary.     In  con- 
junction   with    Mr.   Roscoe,  and    other 
congenial  spirits,  Dr.  Gregory  had   the 
merit  of  publicly  exposing  the  cruelty  and 
injustice  of  the  slave  trade  in  the  princi- 
pal seat  of  that  traffic.     In  1  '8-2,  he  re- 
moved  to   London,    and    obtained    the 
curacy  of  St.  Giles's,  Cripplegate,  which, 
on  account  of  the  weight  of  its  parochial 
duty,  he  left    in  three  years,  though  by 
a  general   invitation  he  was  recalled  as 
morning  preacher  in  1788;  and  on  the 
death  of  the  vicar  in  1  802,  a  request  was 
presented  to    the  dean   and  chapter   of 
St.  Paul's,   signed  by  every  inhabitant, 
that  he  might  succeed  to  the    vacancy. 
In  the  mean  time  he  pursued  with  inde- 
fatigable industry  those  literary  occupa- 
tions, which,  in  various  ways,  have  bene- 
fited  the   public.      Dr.   Gregory   was  a 
useful  writer  who,  without  aiming,  except 
rarely,  at  the  reputation  of  original  com- 
position, performed  real  services  to  letters, 
by  employing  a  practised  style,  an  ex- 
ercised judgment,  and  extensive  informa- 
tion, in  works  of  compilation  or  abridge- 
ment, adapted  to  the  use  of  that  numerous 
class  who  desire  to  obtain  knowledge  in 


a  compendious  manner.  His  publica- 
tions were  successfully  planned  and  ably 
executed.  He  served  at  different  times 
the  curacy  and  lectureship  of  St.  Botolph, 
the  lectureship  of  St.  Luke's,  and  a 
weekly  lectureship  of  St.  Antholin's,  and 
was  elected  evening  preacher  at  the 
Foundling  hospital,  which  the  state  of  his 
health  obliged  him  to  resign.  The  bishop 
of  London  presented  him  with  a  small 
prebend  in  the  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's, 
which  he  relinquished  on  receiving  the 
rectory  of  Stapleford,  Herts.  In  1804, 
he  was  presented  by  Lord  Sid  mouth  (then 
Mr.  Addington)  with  the  valuable  living 
of  West  Ham,  in  Essex,  when  he  resigned 
every  other  clerical  charge  except  that  of 
Cripplegate,  to  which  parish  he  was 
attached  by  warm  feelings  of  gratitude. 

At  West  Ham  he  passed  four  years, 
discharging  with  fidelity  his  duties  as  a 
clergyman  and  a  magistrate,  and  occu- 
pying his  leisure  with  literature.  Life 
was  endeared  to  him  by  domestic  enjoy- 
ments in  the  bosom  of  an  amiable  and 
affectionate  family,  and  by  the  society  of 
many  friends,  whom  he  was  much  valued 
for  his  perpetual  readiness  to  serve  and 
oblige,  and  the  unaffected  cheerfulness  of 
his  conversation.  Without  any  decided 
cause  of  illness,  the  powers  of  his  consti- 
tution suddenly  and  all  together  gave 
way ;  every  vital  function  was  debilitated, 
and  after  a  short  confinement,  he  expired 
with  the  calm  resignation  and  animating 
hopes  of  a  Christian.  Among  his  nu- 
merous works  are,  "  Essays,  historical  and 
moral,"  a  "  Translation  of  Lowth's  Lec- 
tures on  the  Sacred  Poetry  of  the  He- 
brews," a  "  Church  History,"  from  which 
he  acquired  celebrity  with  the  inquiring, 
"  The  Economy  of  Nature,"  and  a  well- 
known  "  Dictionary  of  Arts  and 
Sciences."* 

CURIOUS  NARRATIVE. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, 

The  interment  of  the  late  duchess  of 
Rutland,  at  Bottesford,  the  family  burial- 
place,  has  had  a  more  than  usual  number 
of  persons  to  visit  its  many  sepulchral  mo- 
numents. One  of  them  to  the  \uemory 
of  Francis  Manners,  earl  of  Rutland,  who 
lies  buried  here,  is  very  splendid.  It 
represents  him  with  his  countess  in  a 
kneeling  posture,  and  two  children  who 
are  supposed  to  have  been  beivitch'd  to 

*  Dr.  Aikin's  Athenseum. 


371 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  12. 


372 


death.  The  inscription  to  that  effect  I 
read,  and  procured  a  copy  of  the  parti- 
culars from  an  old  book  which  is  always 
read  to  visiters  by  the  sexton ;  and  which, 
as  to  the  execution  of  the  alleged  crimi- 
nals at  Lincoln,  on  the  12th  of  March, 
1618,  I  find  to  be  correct,  and  send  it  for 
your  use. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

B.  JOHNSON. 

Newark,  Feb.  22,  1826. 

The  only  alteration  in  the  transcript  is 
a  variation  from  inaccurate  spelling. 

EXTRACT 
From  the  Church  Book  of  Bottesford. 

When  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Francis 
Manners  succeeded  his  Brother  Roger  in 
the  Earldom  of  Rutland,  and  took  pos- 
session of  Belvoir  Castle,  and  of  the 
Estates  belonging  to  the  Earldom,  He 
took  such  Honourable  measures  in  the 
Courses  of  his  Life,  that  He  neither  dis- 
placed Tenants,  discharged  Servants,  nor 
denied  the  access  of  the  poor  ;  but,  mak- 
ing Strangers  welcome,  did  all  the  good 
offices  of  a  Noble  Lord,  by  which  he  got 
the  Love  and  good-will  of  the  Country, 
his  Noble  Countess  being  of  the  same 
disposition  :  So  that  Belvoir  Castle  was  a 
continual  Place  of  Entertainment,  Espe- 
cially to  Neighbours,  where  Joan  Flower 
and  her  Daughter  were  not  only  relieved 
at  the  first,  but  Joan  was  also  admitted 
Chairwoman  and  her  daughter  Marga- 
rett  as  a  Continual  Dweller  in  the  Castle, 
looking  to  the  Poultry  abroad,  and  the 
washhouse  at  Home;  and  thus  they 
Continued  till  found  guilty  of  some  mis- 
demeanor which  was  discovered  to  the 
Lady.  The  first  complaint  against  Joan 
Flower  the  Mother  was  that  she  was  a 
Monstrous  malicious  Woman,  full  of 
Oaths,  Curses,  and  irreligious  Impreca- 
tions, and,  as  far  as  appeared,  a  plain 
Atheist.  As  for  Margarett,  her  Daughter, 
she  was  frequently  accused  of  going  from 
the  Castle,  and  carrying  Provisions  away 
in  unreasonable  Quantities,  and  returning 
in  such  unseasonable  Hours  that  they 
could  not  but  Conjecture  at  some  mis- 
chief amongst  them ;  and  that  their  ex- 
traordinary Expences  tended  both  to  rob 
the  Lady  and  served  also  to  maintain 
some  debauched  and  Idle  Company  which 
frequented  Joan  Flower's  House.  In 
some  time  the  Countess  misliking  her 
(Joan's)  Daughter  Margarett,  and  disco- 
vering some  Indecencies  in  her  Life,  and 
the  Neglect  of  her  Business,  discharged 


her  from  lying  any  more  in  the  Castle, 
yet  gave  her  forty  Shillings,  a  Bolster, 
and  a  Mattress  of  wool,  commanding  her 
to  go  Home.  But  at  last  these  Wicked 
Women  became  so  malicious  and  re- 
vengeful, that  the  Earl's  Family  were 
sensible  of  their  wicked  Dispositions  ; 
for,  first,  his  Eldest  Son  Henry  Lord 
Ross  was  taken  sick  after  a  strange  Man- 
ner, and  in  a  little  time  Died ;  and,  after, 
Francis  Lord  Ross  was  Severely  tortured 
and  tormented  by  them,  with  a  Strange 
sickness,  which  caused  his  Death.  Also, 
and  presently  after,  the  Lady  Catherine 
was  set  upon  by  their  Devilish  Practices, 
and  very  frequently  m  Danger  of  her  Life, 
in  strange  and  unusual  Fits ;  and,  as  they 
confessed,  both  the  Earl  and  his  Coun- 
tess were  so  Bewitched  that  they  should 
have  no  more  Children.  In  a  little  time 
after  they  were  Apprehended  and  carried 
to  Lincoln  Jail,  after  due  Examination 
before  sufficient  Justices  and  discreet 
Magistrates. 

Joan  Flower  before  her  Conviction 
called  for  bread  and  butter,  and  wished 
it  might  never  go  through  her  if  she  were 
guilty  of  the  Matter  she  was  Accused  of; 
and  upon  mumbling  of  it  in  her  Mouth 
she  never  spoke  more,  but  fell  down  and 
Died,  as  she  was  carried  to  Lincoln  Jail, 
being  extremely  tormented  both  in  Soul 
and  Body,  and  was  Buried  at  Ancaster. 

The  Examination  of  Margarett  Flower 

the  22nd  of  January,  1 6l8. 
She  confessed  that,  about  four  years 
since,  her  Mother  sent  her  for  the  right 
Hand  glove  of  Henry  Lord  Ross,  and 
afterwards  her  Mother  bid  her  go  again 
to  the  Castle  of  Belvoir,  and  bring  down 
the  glove,  or  some  other  thing,  of  Henry 
Lord  Ross's;  and  when  she  asked  for 
what,  her  Mother  answered  to  hurt  My 
Lord  Ross  ;  upon  which  she  brought 
down  a  glove,  and  gave  it  to  her  Mother, 
who  stroked  Rutterkin  her  cat  (the  Imp)  • 
with  it,  after  it  was  dipped  in  hot  water, 
and,  so,  pricked  it  often  after;  which 
Henry  Lord  Ross  fell  sick,  and  soon  after 
Died.  She  further  said  that  finding  a 
glove,  about  two  or  three  years  since  of 
Francis  Lord  Ross's,  she  gave  it  to  her 
mother,  who  put  it  into  hot  water,  and 
afterwards  took  it  out,  and  rubbed  it  on 
Rutterkin  (the  Imp,)  and  bid  him  go 
upwards,  and  afterwards  buried  it  in  the 
yard,  and  said  "  a  mischief  light  on  him 
but  he  will  mend  again.''  She  further 
confessed  that  her  Mother  and  her  and 


373 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  13,  14 


374 


her  sister  agreed  together  to  bewitch  the 
Earl  and  his  Lady,  that  they  might  have 
no  more  children ;  and  being  asked  the 
cause  of  this  their  malice  and  ill-will,  she 
said  that,  about  four  years  since,  the 
Countess,  taking  a  dislike  to  her,  gave 
her  forty  shillings,  a  Bolster,  and  a  mat- 
tress, and  bid  her  be  at  Home,  and  come 
no  more  to  dwell  at  the  Castle ;  which 
she  not  only  took-  ill,  but  grudged  it  in 
her  heart  very  much,  swearing  to  be  re- 
venged upon  her,  on  which  her  Mother 
took  wool  out  of  the  Mattress,  and  a  pair 
of  gloves  which  were  given  her  by  Mr.  Vo- 
vason,and  put  them  into  warm  water,  min- 
gling them  with  some  blood,  and  stirring 
it  together ;  then  she  took  them  out  of 
the  water,  and  rubbed  them  on  the  belly 
of  Rutterkin,  saying,  "  the  Lord  and  the 
Lady  would  have  Children  but  it  would 
be  long  first/'  She  further  confessed 
that,  by  her  Mother's  command,  .  she 
brought  to  her  a  piece  of  a  handkerchief 
of  the  Lady  Catherine,  the  Earl's  Daugh- 
ter, and  her  Mother  put  it  into  hot  water, 
and  then,  taking  it  out,  rubbed  it  upon 
Rutterkin,  bidding  him  "  fly  and  go,'* 
whereupon  Rutterkin  whined  and  cryed 
"  Mew,"  upon  which  the  said  Rutterkin 
had  no  more  power  of  the  Lady  Catherine 
to  hurt  her. 

Margarett  Flower  and  Phillis  Flower, 
the  Daughters  of  Joan  Flower,  were  exe- 
cuted at  Lincoln  for  Witchcraft,  March 
12,  1618. 

Whoever  reads  this  history  should  con- 
sider the  ignorance  and  dark  superstition 
of  those  times;  but  certainly  these  women 
were  vile  abandoned  wretches  to  pretend 
to  do  such  wicked  things. 

"  Seek  not  unto  them  that  have  familiar 
spirits,  nor  wizards,  nor  unto  witches 
that  peep  and  that  mutter  :  should  not  a 
people  seek  unto  their  God."  Isaiah  xix. 

This  entry  in  the  church  book  of  Bot- 
tesford  is  certainly  very  curious.  Its 
being  read  at  this  time,  to  the  visitors  of 
the  monuments,  must  spread  the  "  won- 
derful story"  far  and  near  among  the 
country  people,  and  tend  to  the  increase 
of  the  sexton's  perquisites ;  but  surely  if 
that  officer  be  allowed  to  disseminate  the 
tale,  he  ought  to  be  furnished  with  a  few 
sensible  strictures  which  he  might  be  re- 
quired to  read  at  the  same  time.  In  all 
probability,  the  greater  number  of  visi- 
tants are  attracted  thither  by  the  surpri- 
sing narrative,  and  there  is  at  least  one 
hand  from  whom  might  be  solicited  such 


remarks  as  would  tend  to  obviate  undue 
impressions.  Instances  are  already  re- 
corded in  this  work  of  the  dreadful  in- 
fluence which  superstitious  notions  pro- 
duce on  the  illiterate. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  72. 


ilarcf)  is. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  13th  of  March,  1614,  in  the 
reign  of  king  James  I.,  Bartholomew 
Legat,  an  Arian,  was  burnt  in  Smithfield 
for  that  heresy. 

1722,  March  13,  there  were  bonfires, 
illuminations,  ringing  of  bells,  and  other 
demonstrations  of  joy,  in  the  cities  of  Lon- 
don andW  estminster,  upon  the  dissolution 
of  the  septennial  parliament.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  47. 

14. 

FOOTBALL. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — Perhaps  you  are  not  aware  that, 
during  fine  weather,  football  is  played 
every  Sunday  afternoon,  in  the  fields,  be- 
tween Oldfield's  dairy  and  Copenhagen- 
house,  near  Islington,  by  Irishmen.  It 
generally  commences  at  three  o'clock,  and 
is  continued  till  dusk.  The  boundaries  are 
fixed  and  the  parties  chosen.  I  believe, 
as  is  usual  in  the  sister  kingdom,  county- 
men  play  against  other  county- men.  Some 
fine  specimens  of  wrestling  are  occasion- 
ally exhibited,  in  order  to  delay  the  two 
men  who  are  rivals  in  the  pursuit  of  the 
ball ;  meantime  the  parties*  friends  have 
time  to  pursue  the  combat,  and  the  quick 
arrival  of  the  ball  to  the  goal  is  generally 
the  consequence,  and  a  lusty  shout  is 
given  by  the  victors. 

When  a  boy,  football  was  commonly 
played  on  a  Sunday  morning,  before 
church  time,  in  a  village  in  the  west  of 
England,  and  the  church-piece  was  tns 
ground  chosen  for  it.  I  am,  &c. 

Islington.  J.R.  F. 

Royal  Bridal. 

On  the  14th  of  March,  1734,  his  serene 
highness  the  prince  of  Orange  was  mar- 
ried at  St.  James's,  to  the  princess-roy^l. 

*  British  Chroriologist. 


375 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  15. 


376 


At  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  the  royal 
family  supped  in  public  in  the  great  state 
ball-room. 

About  one,  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
retired,and  afterwards  sat  up  in  their  bed- 
chamber, in  rich  undresses,  to  be  seen  by 
the  nobility,  and  other  company  at  court. 

On  the  following  day  there  was  a  more 
splendid  appearance  of  persons  of  quality 
to  pay  their  compliments  to  the  royal 
pair  than  was  ever  seen  at  this  court; 
and  m  the  evening  there  was  a  ball 
equally  magnificent,  and  the  prince  of 
Orange  danced  several  minuets. 

A  few  days  before  the  nuptials,  the 
Irish  peers  resident  in  London,  not  having 
received  summonses  to  attend  the  royal 
procession,  met  to  consider  their  claims  to 
be  present,  and  unanimously  resolved 
that  neither  themselves  nor  the  peeresses 
would  attend  the  wedding  as  spectators, 
and  that  they  would  not  send  to  the  lord 
chamberlain's  office  for  their  tickets.* 

THE  "  PAPEGUAY." 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Kennington,  March  7 ,  1826. 

Sir, — The  following  brief  observations 
on  the  sport  mentioned  at  p.  289,  may 
not  be  considered  unacceptable  ;  strange 
to  say,  it  is  not  mentioned  by  either  Strutt 
or  Fosbroke  in  their  valuable  works. 

This  sport  obtained  over  the  principal 
parts  of  Europe.  The  celebrated  composer, 
C.  M.Von  Weber,  opens  his  opera  of  hor- 
rors, "  Der  Frieschiitz,"  with  a  scene  of 
shooting  for  the  popingay.  This  is  a 
proof  that  it  is  common  in  Germany, 
where  the  successful  candidate  is  elected  a 
petty  sovereign  for  the  day.  The  neces- 
sity and  use  of  such  a  custom  in  a  coun- 
try formed  for  the  chase,  is  obvious. 

The  author  of  the  "  Waverley"  novels, 
m  his  excellent  tale  of  "Old  Mortality,"  in- 
troduces a  scene  of  shooting  for  the  popin- 
gay, as  he  terms  it.  It  was  usual  for  the 
sheriff  to  call  out  the  feudal  array  of  the 
county,  annually,  to  what  was  called  the 
wappen-schaws.  The  author  says,  "  The 
•herifFof  the  county  of  Lanark  was  hold- 
ing the  wappen-schaw  of  a  wild  district, 
called  the  Upper  Ward  of  Clydesdale,  on 
a  traugh  or  level  plain,  near  to  a  royal 
borough,  the  name  of  which  is  in  no  way 
essential  to  my  story,  upon  the  morning 
of  the  5th  of  May,  1679,  when  our  narra- 
tive commences.  When  the  musters  had 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


been  made,  and  duly  reported,  the  young 
men,  as  was  usual,  were  to  mix  in  various 
parts,  of  which  the  chief  was  to  shoot  at  the 
popingay,  an  ancient  game  formerly  prac- 
tised with  archery,  and  then  with  fire- 
arms. This  was  the  figure  of  a  bird, 
decked  with  party-coloured  feathers,  so 
as  to  resemble  a  popmgay  or  parrot.  It 
was  suspended  to  a  pole,  and  served  for 
a  mark,  at  which  the  competitors  dis- 
charged their  fusees  and  carbines  in  rota- 
tion, at  the  distance  of  sixty  or  seventy 
paces.  He  whose  ball  brought  down 
the  mark,  held  the  proud  title  of  cap- 
tain of  the  popingay  for  the  remainder 
of  the  day,  and  was  usually  escorted  in 
triumph  to  the  most  reputable  charge- 
house  in  the  neighbourhood,  where  the 
evening  was  closed  with  conviviality, 
conducted  under  his  auspices."  From  the 
accuracy  and  research  of  the  author,  I  am 
inclined  to  take  it  for  granted,  that  this 
sport  was  common  in  Scotland. 

A  friend  informs  me  it  is  common  in 
Switzerland,  and  I  have  no  doubt  ob- 
tained pretty  generally  over  Europe.  In 
conclusion,  allow  me  to  remark  that  in  my 
opinion  the  man  on  horseback,  with  the 
popingay  on  the  pole,  is  returning  as  vic- 
tor from  the  sport;  the  pole  in  the  dis- 
tance evidently  had  the  honour  of  support- 
ing the  popingay,  until  it  was  carried 
away  by  the  aim  of  the  marksman. 

I  am,  sir,  &c.  T.  A. 

The  editor  is  obliged  by  the  conjecture 
at  the  close  of  the  preceding  letter,  and 
concurs  in  thinking  that  he  was  himself 
mistaken,  in  presuming  that  the  French 
print  from  whence  the  engraving  was 
taken,  represented  the  going  out  to  the 
shooting.  He  will  be  happy  to  be  in- 
formed of  any  other  misconception  or  in- 
accuracy, because  it  will  assist  him  in  his 
endeavours  to  render  the  work  a  faithful 
record  of  manners  and  customs.  To  that 
end  he  will  always  cheerfully  correct  any 
error  of  opinion  or  statement. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  90. 


15. 

The  Highgate  Custom. 
With  much  pleasure  insertion  is  given 
to  the  following  letter  and  its  accompany- 
ing song. 


377  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  16.  378 

To  the  Editor  of  the  E very-Day  Book.  which  was  introduced  in  the   pantomime 

of  Harlequin    Teague,   performed   at  the 

Seymour-street,  Feb.  18,  1826.  Haymarket  theatre,  in  August,  1742.     If 

Sir, — In  illustration   of  the   custom  01  you  think  it  worthy  the  columns  of  your 

*  Swearing  on  the  horns  at   Highgate,"  valuable  work,  it  is  at  your  service, 
described  at  p.  79,  in  the  Every-Day  Book  I  am,  &c. 

:f  the  present  year,  I  enclose  you  a  song,  PASCHE. 

Song  by  the  Landlord  of  the  Horn» 

Silence !  take  notice,  you  are  my  son, 

Full  on  your  father  look,  sir ; 
This  is  an  oath  you  may  take  as  you  run, 

So  lay  your  hand  on  the  Hornbook,  sir. 
Hornaby,  hornaby,  Highgate  and  horns, 
And  money  by  hook  or  by  crook,  sir. 

Hornaby,  &c. 

Spend  not  with  cheaters,  nor  cozeners,  your  life, 

Nor  waste  it  on  profligate  beauty ; 
And  when  you  are  married,  be  kind  to  your  wife, 

And  true  to  all  petticoat  duty. 
Dutiful,  beautiful,  kind  to  your  wife, 
And  true  from  the  cap  to  the  shoetie. 

Dutiful,  &c. 

To  drink  to  a  man  when  a  woman  is  near, 

You  never  should  hold  to  be  right,  sir  ; 
Nor  unless  'tis  your  taste,  to  drink  small  for  strong  beer, 

Or  eat  brown  bread  when  you  can  get  white,  sir. 
Manniken,  canniken,  good  meat  and  drink 
Are  pleasant  at  morn,  noon,  and  night,  sir 

Manniken,  &c. 

To  kiss  with  the  maid  when  the  mistress  is  kind, 

A  gentleman  ought  to  be  loth,  sir  : 
But  if  the  maid's  fairest,  your  oath  does  not  bind, 

Or  you  may,  if  you  like  it,  kiss  both,  sir. 
Kiss  away,  both  you  may,  sweetly  smack  night  and  day, 
If  you  like  it — you're  bound  by  your  oath,  sir. 

Kiss  away,  &c. 

When  you  travel  to  Highgate,  take  this  oath  again, 
And  again,  like  a  sound  man,  and  true,  sir, 

And  if  you  have  with  you  some  more  merry  men, 
Be  sure  you  make  them  take  it  too,  sir. 

Bless  you,  son,  get  you  gone,  frolic  and  fun, 

Old  England,  and  honest  true  blue,  sir. 

Bless  you,  &c. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR.  a  letter  is  selected  for  insertion  this  day, 

Mean  Temperature.  .  .  40'  8.  because  it  happens  to  be  an   open  one, 

and  therefore  free  for  pleasant  intelligence 
on  any  subject  connected  with  the  pnr- 
pose  of  this  publication.  It  is  an  advan- 

Cornish  Sports,  tage  resulting  from  the   volume  already 

AND  THE  before  the  public,   that   it    acquaints  its 

Origin  of  Piccadilly.  readers  with  the  kind  of  information  de- 

From  several  valuable  communications,     sired  to  be  conveyed,  more  readily  than  the 


379 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  16. 


380 


prospectus  proposed  to  their  considera- 
tion. If  each  reader  will  only  contribute 
something  to  the  instruction  and  amuse- 
ment of  the  rest,  the  editor  has  no  doubt 
that  he  will  be  able  to  present  a  larger 
series  of  interesting  notices  and  agreeable 
illustrations,  than  any  work  he  is  at  pre- 
sent acquainted  with. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
February  6,  1826. 

Sir, — I  send  you  the  account  of  two 
more  games,  or  in-doors  sports,  in  vogue 
among  the  country  people  in  Cornwall. 
Of  the  latter,  Mr.  D.  Gilbert  has  made 
slight  mention  in  the  introduction  to  his 
carols,  second  edition ;  but  he  states  that 
these  games,  together  with  carol-singing, 
may  be  considered  as  obsolete,  which  is 
by  no  means  the  case :  even  yet  in  most  of 
the  western  parishes,  (and  of  these  I  can 
speak  from  personal  observation,)  the 
carol-singers,  not  only  sing  their  "  aun- 
tient  chaunts"  in  the  churches,  but  go 
about  from  house  to  house  in  parties.  I 
am  told  the  practice  is  the  same  in  many 
other  parts  of  the  county,  as  it  is  also  in 
various  places  throughout  the  kingdom. 
I  have  added  a  slight  notice  respecting 
Piccadilly,  which  (if  worth  inserting)  may 
be  new  to  some  of  your  readers ;  but,  now 
for  our  Cornish  sports  :  I  state  them  as  I 
found  them,  and  they  are  considered  pro- 
vincial. 

Fisrt,  then,  the 7imfteferXtinker's)shop.- 
In  the  middle  of  the  room  is  placed  a 
large  iron  pot,  filled  with  a  mixture  of 
soot  and  water.  One  of  the  most  humour- 
ous of  the  set  is  chosen  for  the  master  of 
the  shop,  who  takes  a  small  mop  in  his 
left  hand,  and  a  short  stick  in  his  right ; 
his  comrades  each  have  a  small  stick  in 
his  right  hand ;  the  master  gives  each  a 
separate  name,  as  Old  Vulcan,  Save-all, 
Tear  em,  All-my-mcn,  Mend-all,  &c.  After 
these  preliminaries,  all  kneel  down,  en- 
circling the  iron  vessel.  The  master  cries 
out,  "  Every  one  (that  is,  all  together,  or 
'  one  and  all/  as  the  Cornish  say,)  and  I ; 
all  then  hammer  away  with  their  sticks  as 
fast  as  they  can,  some  of  them  with  absurd 
grimaces.  Suddenly  the  master  will,  per- 
haps, cry  out,  "All-my-men  and  I ;"  upon 
this,  all  are  to  cease  working,  except  the 
individual  called  All-my-men  ;  and  if  any 
unfortunate  delinquent  fails,  he  is  treated 
with  a  salute  from  the  mop  well  dipped  in 
the  black  liquid  :  this  never  fails  to  afford 
great  entertainment  to  the  spectators,  and 
if  the  master  is  "  well  up  to  the  sport/'  he 
contrives  that  none  of  his  comrades  shall 


escape  unmarked ;  for  he  changes  rapidly 
from  All-my-men  and  I,  to  Old  Vulcan 
and  I,  and  so  on,  and  sometimes  names 
two  or  three  together,  that  little  chance  of 
escaping  with  a  clean  face  is  left. 

The  Corn-market. — Here,  as  before,  an 
experienced  reveller  is  chosen  to  be  the 
master,  who  has  an  assistant,  called  Spy- 
the-market.  Another  character  is  Old 
Penglaze,  who  is  dressed  up  in  some  ri- 
diculous way,  with  a  blackened  face,  and 
a  staff  in  his  hand;  he,  together  with 
part  of  a  horse's  hide  girt  round  him,  for 
the  hobby-horse,  are  placed  towards  the 
back  of  the  market.  The  rest  of  the 
players  sit  round  the  room,  and  have  each 
some  even  price  affixed  to  them  as  names; 
for  instance,  Two-pence,  Four-pence,  Six- 
pence,Twelve-pence,  &c.  The  master  then 
says  "  Spy-the-market,"  to  which  the  man 
responds,  "  Spy-the-market;"  the  master 
repeats,  "  Spy-the-market ;"  the  man  says, 
"  Aye,  sirrah."  The  master  then  asks  the. 
price  of  corn,  to  which  Spy-the-market, 
may  reply  any  price  he  chooses,  of  those 
given  to  his  comrades,  for  instance, 
"  Twelve-pence."  The  master  then  says, 
"  Twelve-pence,"  when  the  man  hearing 
that  price  answers  "  Twelve-pence/'  and 
a  similar  conversation  ensues,  as  with 
Spy-the-market  before,  and  Twelve-pence 
names  his  price,  and  so  the  game  pro- 
ceeds ;  but  if,  as  frequently  happens,  any 
of  the  prices  forget  their  names,  or  any 
other  mistakes  occur  in  the  game,  the 
offender  is  to  be  sealed,  a  ceremony  in 
which  the  principal  amusement  of  the 
game  consists  ;  it  is  done  as  follows, — the 
master  goes  to  the  person  who  has  for- 
feited, and  takes  up  his  foot,  saying, 
"  Here  is  my  seal,  where  is  old  Penglaze's 
seal  ?"  and  then  gives  him  a  blow  on  the 
sole  of  the  foot.  Old  Penglaze  then  comes 
in  on  his  horse,  with  his  feet  tripping  on 
the  floor,  saying,  "  Here  I  comes,  neither 
riding  nor  a  foot ;"  the  horse  winces  and 
capers,  so  that  the  old  gentleman  can 
scarcely  keep  his  seat.  When  he  arrives 
at  the  market,  he  cries  out,  "  What  work 
is  there  for  me  to  do  V  The  master  holds 
up  the  foot  of  the  culprit  and  says,  "  Here, 
Penglaze,  is  a  fine  shoeing  match  for  you.'1 
Penglaze  dismounts  ;  '•  I  think  it's  a  fine 
colt  indeed."  He  then  begins  to  work  by 
pulling  the  shoe  off  the  unfortunate  colt, 
saying  "  My  reward  is  a  full  gallon  o' 
moonlight,  besides  all  other  customs  for 
shoeing  in  this  market;"  he  then  gives 
one  or  two  hard  blows  on  the  shoe-less 
foot,  which  make  its  proprietor  tingle, 


381 


THJE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH   16. 


382 


and  remounts  his  horse,  whose  duty  it  is 
now  to  get  very  restive,  and  poor  Pen- 
glaze  is  so  tossed  up  and  down,  that  he 
has  much  difficulty  to  get  to  his  old  place 
without  a  tumble.  The  play  is  resumed 
until  Penglaze's  seal  is  again  required,  and 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  there  is  a 
set  dance. 

PICCADILLY. — The  pickadil  was  the 
round  hem,  or  the  piece  set  about  the 
edge  or  skirt  of  a  garment,  whether  at 
top  or  bottom  ;  also  a  kind  of  stiff  collar, 
made  in  fashion  of  a  band,  that  went 
about  the  neck  and  round  about  the 
shoulders ;  hence  the  term  "  wooden  pec- 
cadilloes," (meaning  the  pillory)  in  "  Hu- 
dibras,''  and  see  Nares's  "  Glossary,"  and 
Blount's  "  Glossographia."  At  the  time 
that  ruffs,  and  consequently  pickadils, 
were  much  in  fashion,  there  was  a  cele- 
brated ordinary  near  St.  James's,  called 
Pickadilly,  because,  as  some  say,  it  was 
the  outmost,  or  skirt-house,  situate  at 
the  hem  of  the  town ;  but  it  more  proba- 
bly took  its  name  "from  one  Higgins,  a 
tailor,  who  made  a  fortune  by  pickadils, 
and  built  this  with  a  few  adjoining 
houses.  The  name  has  by  a  few  been 
derived  from  a  much  frequented  shop  for 
sale  of  these  articles ;  this  probably  took 
its  rise  from  the  circumstance  of  Higgins 
having  built  houses  there,  which,  however, 
were  not  for  selling  ruffs;  and  indeed, 
with  the  exception  of  his  buildings,  the 
scite  of  the  present  Piccadilly  was  at  that 
time  open  country,  and  quite  out  of  the 
way  of  trade.  At  a  later  period,  when 
Burlington-house  was  built,  its  noble 
owner  chose  the  situation,  then  at  some 
distance  from  the  extremity  of  the  town, 
that  none  might  build  beyond  him.  The 
ruffs  formerly  worn  by  gentlemen  were 
frequently  double- wired,  and  stiffened 
with  yellow  starch  ;  and  the  practice  was 
at  one  time  carried  to  such  an  excess  that 
they  were  limited  by  queen  Elizabeth  "  to 
a  nayle  of  a  yeard  in  depth."  In  the  time 
of  James  I.  they  still  continued  of  a  pre- 
posterous size,  so  that  previous  to  the 
visit  made  by  that  monarch  to  Cambridge 
in  1615,  the  vice-chancellor  of  the 
university  thought  fit  to  issue  an  order, 
prohibiting  "  the  fearful  enormity  and 
excess  of  apparel  seen  in  all  degrees,  as, 
namely,  strange  peccadilloes,  vast  bands, 
huge  cuffs,  shoe-roses,  tufts,  locks,  and 
tops  of  hair,  unbeseeming  that  modesty 
and  carriage  of  students  in  so  renowned 
an  university."  It  is  scarcely  to  be  sup- 
posed that  the  ladies  were  deficient  in 


the  size  of  their  ruffs ;  on  the  contrary, 
according  to  Andrews,  (Continuation  of 
Henry's  History  of  England,  vol.  ii. 
307,)  they  wore  them  immoderately  large, 
made  of  lawn  and  cambiic,  and  stiffened 
with  yellow  starch,  for  the,  art  of  using 
which,  in  the  proper  method,  they  paid  as 
much  as  four  or  five  pounds,  as  also 
twenty  shillings  for  learning  "  to  seethe 
starche,"  to  a  Mrs.  Dingen  Van  Plesse, 
who  introduced  it,  as  well  as  the  use  of 
lawn,  which  was  so  fine  that  it  was  a  by- 
word, "  that  shortly  they  would  wear 
ruffes  of  a  spider's  web."  The  poking  of 
these  ruffs  gracefully  was  an  important 
attainment.  Some  satirical  Puritans  en- 
joyed the  effects  of  a  shower  of  rain  on 
the  ruff-wearers ;  for  "  then  theyre  great 
ruffes  stryke  sayle,  and  downe  they  falle, 
as  dish-clouts  fluttering  in  the  winde." 
Mrs.  Turner,  who  was  one  of  the  persons 
implicated  in  the  death  of  sir  Thomas 
Overbury,  is  said  to  have  gone  to  the 
place  of  execution  in  a  fashionable  ruff, 
after  which  their  credit  was  very  much 
diminished. 

I  am,  sir, 

Your  obedient  servant, 
W,  S. 

P.  S. — It  is  perhaps  scarcely  worth  ob- 
serving, that  the  Monday  preceding  Ash- 
Wednesday  is,  in  the  west,  called  Shrove- 
Monday;  and  that  peas  and  pork  is  as 
standard  a  dish  on  that  day  as  pancakes 
on  Shrove-Tuesday,  or  salt  fish  on  Ash- 
Wednesday. 


Having  thus  performed  a  duty  to  a 
valued  correspondent  without  waiting  till 
Christmas,  the  editor  takes  the  liberty  of 
referring  to  the  observations  by  which  the 
preceding  letter  was  introduced,  and  re- 
spectfully expresses  an  earnest  hope  to  be 
favoured  with  such  communications  as, 
from  the  past  conduct  of  the  Every-Day 
Book,  may  appear  suitable  to  its  columns. 
For  the  first  time,  he  believes,  he  ven- 
tures to  allude  to  any  inconvenience  he 
has  felt  while  conducting  it ;  nor  does  he 
hint  at  difficulty  now  from  lack  of  ma- 
terials, for  he  has  abundance ;  but  it  is  a 
truth,  which  he  is  persuaded  many  of 
his  readers  will  be  happy  to  mitigate, 
that  at  the  present  moment  he  is  himself 
so  very  unwell,  and  has  so  much  indis- 
position in  his  family  to  distract  his 
mind,  that  he  cannot  arrange  his  collec- 


383 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  17. 


384 


lions ;  services,  therefore,  under  such 
circumstances,  will  be  peculiarly  accept- 
able, If  one  or  two  of  his  correspon- 
dents should  refer  him  to  communications 
which  their  kindness  'have  already  placed 
in  his  hands,  he  answers,  that  he  is  really 
too  ill  to  seek  them  amongst  his  papers. 
From  this  it  will  be  seen  how  very  much 
he  really  needs,  and  how  much  he 
covets,  assistance.  He  ventures  to  think 
that  he  shall  not  have  made  this  public 


appeal  in  vain,  and  he  again  calls  on  the 
friends  and  readers  of  his  labours  to  semi 
him  their  aid. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  5 1 . 

Jflarrf)  17. 

1826,  Cambridge  Term  ends. 


$atritit'*  Bag—  a  pattern. 


An  Irishman  all  in  his  glory  was  there, 

With  a  sprig  of  shillelagh  and  shamrock  so  green.' 


It  happens  that  several  fairs,  similar  to 
those  in  the  country  parts  of  England  as 
to  tents  and  booths,  are  held  in  Ireland 
on  Saint  Patrick's  day,  and  then  its 
hilarity  is  heightened  by  the  publicity  of 
the  celebration. 

The  usual  fair  day  or  " patron"  or,  as 
it  is  usually  pronounced,  pattern  or  pat- 
ten, is  a  festive  meeting  to  commemorate 
the  virtues  of  a  patron  saint.  It  is  a  kind 
of  rural  fete  with  drinking  and  dancing, 
whereto  in  (Ireland)  is  added  fighting, 


"  unless  the  neighbouring  magistrates 
personally  interfere,  or  the  spirits  of  the 
people  are  repressed  by  a  conscious  par- 
ticipation in  plots  and  conspiracies." 
This  is  the  character  of  these  festivals  by 
an  Irish  writer,  who  relates  an  anecdote 
resulting  from  one  of  these  festivals : 
"  We  were  waiting  (he  says,)  in  the  vain 
hope  that  the  weather  would  clear  up, 
and  allow  us  a  fine  evening  for  return, 
when  a  poor  stranger  from  Joyce  country 
came  before  '  his  honour'  as  a  magistrate. 


3C5 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  17. 


386 


Mis  black  eye,  swelled  face,  and  head 
and  shoulders  covered  with  clotted  blood, 
too  plainly  told  the  history  of  his  suffer- 
ings ;  and  his  woeful  countenance  formed 
a  strange  and  ludicrous  contrast  with  his 
account  of  the  pleasures  of  the  preceding 
evening."  He  had  obtained  these  fea- 
tures at  a  patron.  "  The  poor  fellow  had 
travelled  many  a  weary  mile  across  the 
mountains  to  share  its  rustic  mirth  and 
revelry ;  but,  *  plaze  your  honour,  there 
was  a  little  bit  of  fighting  in  it,'  and  as 
no  true  follower  of  St.  Macdarragh  could 
refuse  to  take  a  part  in  such  a  peaceful 
contest,  he  had  received,  and  no  doubt 
given,  many  a  friendly  blow;  but  his 
meditations  on  a  broken  head  during  the 
night,  had  both  cooled  his  courage  and 
revived  his  prudence,  and  he  came  to 
swear  before  *  his  honour'  a  charge  of  as- 
sault and  battery  against  those  who 
had  thus  woefully  demolished  his  upper 
works."* 

The  constant  use  of  the  "shillelagh" 
by  Irishmen  at  a  "  patron,"  is  a  puzzling 
fact  to  Englishmen,  who,  on  their  own 
holidays,  regard  a  "  shillelagh"  as  a 
malicious  weapon.  In  the  hand  of  an 
Irishman,  in  his  own  country,  at  such  a 
season,  it  is  divested  of  that  character ; 
this  singular  fact  will  be  accounted  for, 
when  the  origin  of  the  custom  comes  to 
be  considered.  At  present,  nothing  more 
is  requisite  than  to  add,  that  the  "  shille- 
lagh" is  seldom  absent  on  St.  Patrick's 
day,  celebrated  as  a  patron. 

Some  account  of  the  commemoration 
of  this  festival,  and  of  the  tutelar  saint  of 
Ireland  and  his  miracles,  is  already  given 
in  vol.  i.  p.  363.  To  this  may  be  added 
the  annexed  notices  relative  to  the  day, 
obtained  from  an  Irish  gentleman. 

It  is  a  tradition  that  St.  Patrick  first 
landed  at  Croagh  Patrick,  a  high  and 
beautiful  mountain  in  the  county  of  Mayo, 
from  which  place  he  banished  all  venomous 
animals  into  the  sea,  and  to  this  day, 
multitudes  of  the  natives  who  are  catho- 
lics, make  pilgrimages  to  Croagh  Patrick, 
under  the  persuasion  of  efficacy  in  these 
journies  to  atone  for  misdeeds,  or  mitigate 
the  penalties  attached  to  sin. 

It  is  a  very  popular  tradition  that  when 
St.  Patrick  was  dying,  he  requested  his. 
weeping  and  lamenting  friends  to  forego 
their  grief,  and  rather  rejoice  at  his  com- 
fortable exit,  for  the  better  furtherance  of 


which,  he  advised  each  one  to  take  "  a 
drop  of  something  to  drink ;"  and  that 
this  last  injunction  of  the  saint  in  reve- 
rence to  his  character  was  complied 
with.  However  this  may  be,  it  is  a 
custom  on  his  anniversary  to  observe 
the  practice  to  supererogation ;  for  the 
greater  number  of  his  present  followers, 
who  take  a  little  "  crathur"  for  the  pur- 
pose of  dissipating  woeful  renainiscencies, 
continue  to  imbibe  it  till  they  "  lisp  and 
wink." 

Some  years  ago,  "  Patrick's  day"  was 
welcomed,  in  the  smaller  country  towns 
or  hamlets,  by  every  possible  manifest- 
ation of  gladness  and  delight.  The  inn,  if 
there  was  one,  was  thrown  open  to  all 
comers,  who  received  a  certain  allowanor 
of  oaten  bread  and  fish.  This  was  a  be* 
nevolence  from  the  host,  and  to  it  was 
added  a  "  Patrick's  pot,"  or  quantum  of 
beer ;  but,  of  late  years,  whiskey  is  the 
beverage  most  esteemed.  The  majority 
of  those  who  sought  entertainment  at  the 
village  inn,  were  young  men  who  had  no 
families,  whilst  those  who  had  children, 
and  especially  whose  families  were  large, 
made  themselves  as  snug  as  possible  by 
the  turf  fire  in  their  own  cabins. 

Where  the  village  or  hamlet  could  not 
boast  of  an  inn,  the  largest  cabin  was 
sought  out,  and  poles  were  extended 
horizontally  from  one  end  of  the  apart- 
ment to  the  other ;  on  these  poles,  doors 
purposely  unhinged,  and  brought  from 
the  surrounding  cabins  were  placed,  so 
that  a  table  of  considerable  dimensions 
was  formed,  round  which  all  seated  them- 
selves, each  one  providing  his  own  oaten 
bread  and  fish.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
repast,  they  sat  for  the  remainder  of  the 
evening  over  a  "  Patrick's  pot,"  and  finally 
separated  quietly,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  in 
perfect  harmony. 

In  the  city  of  Dublin,  "  Patrick's  day" 
is  still  regarded  as  a  festival  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest  ranks  of  society. 
There  is  an  annual  ball  and  supper  at 
the  lord  lieutenant's  residence  in  the 
castle,  and  there  are  private  convivial 
assemblies  of  the  most  joyous  character. 
On  this  day  every  Irishman  who  is  alive 
to  its  importance,  adorns  his  hat  with 
bunches  of  shamrock,  which  is  the  com- 
mon trefoil  orclover,wherewith,  according 
to  tradition,  St.  Patrick  converted  the 
Irish  nation  to  belief  in  the  doctrine  of 
the  trinity  in  unity.  In  the  humbler 
ranks,  it  is  the  universal  practice  to  get  a 


You  JL-65 


Letters  from  tht  Irish  Highlands. 


38T 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— MARCH  17. 


388 


morning  dram  as  a  preparation  for  the 
duties  of  the  festival.  They  then  attend 
chapel  and  hear  high  mass.  After  the 
eremonies  and  observances  peculiar  to 
the  Romish  worship,  they  again  resort  to 
the  whiskey  shop,  and  spend  the  remain- 
der of  the  day  in  devotions  to  Bacchus, 
which  are  mostly  concluded,  with  what 
in  England  would  be  called,  by  persons 
of  this  class,  "  a  row." 

On  Patrick's  day,  while  the  bells  of 
churches  and  chapels  are  tuned  to  joyous 
notes,  the  piper  and  harper  play  up 
"  Patrick's  day  in  the  morning;"  old 
women,  with  plenteous  supplies  of  trefoil, 
are  heard  in  every  direction,  crying  "  Buy 


my  shamrocks,  green  shamrocks,"  and 
children  have  "  Patrick's  crosses"  pinned 
to  their  sleeves.  These  are  small  prints 
of  various  kinds;  some  of  them  merely 
represent  a  cross,  others  are  represent- 
ations of  Saint  Patrick,  trampling  the  rep- 
tiles under  his  feet. 


It  appears  from  this  account,  and  from 
general  narrations,  that  St.  Patrick  is 
honoured  on  his  festival  by  every  mode 
which  mirth  can  devise  for  praise  of  his 
memory.  The  following  whimsical  song 
is  a  particular  favourite,  and  sung  to  "  his 
holiness"  by  all  ranks  in  the  height  of 
convivial  excitement : — 


St.  Patrick  was  a  Gentleman. 

St.  Patrick  was  a  gentleman,  and  he  came  from  decent  people  : 
In  Dublin  town  he  built  a  church  and  on  it  put  a  steeple  ; 
His  father  was  a  Wollaghan,  his  mother  an  O'Grady, 
His  aunt  she  was  a  Kinaghan,  and  his  wife  a  widow  Brady. 
Tooralloo  tooralloo,  what  a  glorious  man  our  saint  was, 
Tooralloo,  tooralloo,  O  whack  fal  de  lal,  de  lal,  &c. 

Och  !  Antrim  hills  are  mighty  high  and  so's  the  hill  of  Howth  too ; 
But  we  all  do  know  a  mountain  that  is  higher  than  them  both  too  ; 
'Twas  on  the  top  of  that  high  mount  St.  Patrick  preach'd  a  sermon, 
He  drove  the  frogs  into  the  bogs,  and  banished  all  the  vermin. 
Tooralloo,  &c. 

No  wonder  that  we  Irish  lads,  then,  are  so  blythe  and  frisky ; 
St.  Patrick  was  the  very  man  that  .taught  us  to  drink  whiskey  ; 
Och  !  to  be  sure,  he  had  the  knack  and  understood  distilling. 
For  his  mother  kept  a  sheebeen  shop,  near  the  town  of  Enniskillen. 
Tooralloo,  &c. 


The  day  after  St.  Patrick's  day  is 
"  Sheelah's  day,"or  the  festival  in  honour  of 
Sheelah.  Its  observers  are  not  so  anxious 
to  determine  who  "  Sheelah"  was,  as  they 
are  earnest  in  her  celebration.  Some  say 
she  was  "  Patrick's  wife,"  others  that  she 
was  "  Patrick's  mother,"  while  all  agree 
that  her  "  immortal  memory"  is  to  be 
maintained  by  potations  of  whiskey. 
The  shamrock  worn  on  St.  Patrick's  day 
should  be  worn  also  on  Sheelah's  day, 
and,  on  the  latter  night,  be  drowned  in 
ve  last  glass.  Yet  it  frequently  happens 
that  the  shamrock  is  flooded  in  the  last 
glass  of  St.  Patrick's  day,  and  another  last 
glass  or  two,  or  more,  on  the  same  night, 
deluges  the  over-soddened  trefoil.  This 
is  not  "  quite  correct,"  but  it  is  endea- 
voured to  be  remedied  the  next  morning 
by  the  display  of  a  fresh  shamrock,  which 


is  steeped  at  night  in  honour  of  "Sheelah" 
with  equal  devotedness. 

That  Saint  Patrick  was  not  married  is 
clear  from  the  rules  of  the  Roman  catholic 
church,  which  impose  celibacy  on  its 
clergy.  A  correspondent  suggests  that 
the  idea  of  his  matrimonial  connection, 
arose  out  of  a  burlesque,  or,  perhaps, 
ironical  remark,  by  females  of  the  poorer 
class  in  Ireland,  to  retaliate  on  their  hus- 
bands for  their  excesses  on  the  17th  of 
March ;  or,  perhaps,  from  the  opportunity 
the  effects  of  such  indulgence  afforded 
them,  these  fair  helpmates  are  as  convivial 
on  the  following  morning,  as  their  "  worser 
halves"  were  the  preceding  day.  "  Sheelah" 
is  an  Irish  term,  generally  applied  to  a 
slovenly  or  muddling  woman,  more  'par- 
ticularly if  she  be  elderly.  In  this  way, 
probably,  the  day  after  St,  Patrick's  ob- 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  17,18,  19. 


390 


tained  the  name  of  "  Sheelah's  day/'  spe- 
ciale  gratia,  without  any  reference  to  the 
calendar  of  saints.  The  saint  himself,  if 
we  determine  from  the  sacrifices  to  his 
memory,  is  deemed  a  kind  of  Christian 
Bacchus;  and,  on  like  home-made  au- 
thority, "  Sheelah"  is  regarded  as  his  con- 
sort. 


The  editor  of  this  work  especially 
regrets  that  few  of  the  peculiarities 
regarding  this  festival  which  are  familiar 
to  Irishmen  have  been  communicated  to 
him.  He  has  received  letters  expressing 
surprise  that  so  little  has  been  observed 
concerning  their  country.  Such  com- 
plaints have  been  made  under  initials, 
and  therefore  he  could  not  answer  them : 
the  complainants  he  has  no  doubt  could 
have  contributed  largely  themselves,  and 
from  them  he  would  have  required  infor- 
mation. As  many  Irish  usages  are  fast 
dying  away,  he  hopes  and  earnestly  soli- 
cits to  be  favoured  with  particulars,  which 
he  is  persuaded  the  collections  or  recol- 
lections of  his  Irish  readers  can  readily 
furnish,  and  which  he  will  be  most  happy 
in  having  intrusted  to  him  for  publi- 
cation. Any  illustrations  of  Irish  cha- 
racter and  manners,  especially  if  drawn 
up  by  natives  of  Ireland,  will  be  highly 
valued. 


On  St.  Patrick's  day,  1 740,  the  butchers 
in  Clare-market,  London,  hung  up  a  gro- 
tesque figure  of  an  Irishman.  A  great 
number  of  Irishmen  came  to  pull  it  down, 
when  a  fierce  battle  ensued,  much  mis- 
chief was  done,  and  several  persons  were 
dangerously  wounded;  but  a  file  of  mus- 
queteers  having  been  fetched  from  St. 
James's,  some  of  the  rioters  were  taken 
into  custody,  and  three  of  them  were 
committed  by  col.  De  Veil  to  Newgate  * 


A  correspondent  who  signs,  "  IKEY 
PJNGLE,"  communicates  a  copy  of  a  sin- 
gular monumental  inscription  in  the 
churchyard  of  Grimmingham,  in  Norfolk. 
It  is  subjoined  on  this  day,  because  the 
public  performer  to  whom  it  refers  is 
stated  to  have  quitted  this  stage  of  life  on 
this  day,  in  the  year  1798. 

*   Gentleman's  Magazine. 


SACRED 
To  the  memory  of 
THOMAS  JACKSON,  COMEDIAN, 
who  was  engaged,  21st  of  Dec.  1741,  to 
play  a  comic  cast  of  characters,  in  this 
great  theatre  —  the  World  :  for  many  of 
which  he  was  prompted  by  nature  to  excel. 
The  season  being  ended,  his  benefit 
over,  the  charges  all  paid,  and  his  account 
closed,  he  made  his  exit  in  the  tragedy  of 
Death,  on  the  17th  of  March,  1798,  in 
full  assurance  of  being  called  once  more 
to  rehearsal  ;  where  he  hopes  to  find  his 
forfeits  all  cleared,  his  cast  of  parts  bet- 
tered, and  his  situation  made  agreeable, 
by  him  who  paid  the  great  stock-debt,  for 
the  love  he  bore  to  performers  in  general. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  41  •  27. 


Edward,  king  of  the  West  Saxons. 

On  this  anniversary,  which  is  a  holiday 
in  the  church  of  England  calendar,  and 
kept  at  the  Exchequer,  Rapin  says,  "  I 
do  not  know  upon  what  foundation  Ed- 
ward was  made  both  a  saint  and  a  mar- 
tyr, unless  it  was  pretended  he  was 
murdered  out  of  revenge  for  his  great 
affection  to  Dunstan  and  the  monks  " 
See  farther  concerning  him  in  vol.  '. 
p.  372. 

NATURALISTS*  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  41  •  75. 

^larrft  19. 

1826.     Oxford  Term  ends. 
PALM  SUNDAY. 

This  is  tne  first  of  Passion  Week.  To 
accounts  of  remarkable  ceremonies  pecu- 
liar to  the  day,  and  its  present  obser- 
vance, it  is  proper  to  add  the  mode 
wherein  it  is  celebrated  by  the  papal  pon- 
tiff at  Rome.  An  eye-witness  to  the 
pageant  relates  as  follows:  — 

About  half-past  nine  in  the  morning, 
the  pope  entered  the  Sistine  chapel,  at- 
tired in  a  robe  of  scarlet  and  gold,  which 
he  wore  over  his  ordinary  dress,  and  took 
his  throne.  The  cardinals,  who  were  at 


391 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  19. 


392 


first  dressed  in  under-robes  of  a  violet 
colour  (the  mourning  for  cardinals),  with 
their  rich  antique  lace,  scarlet  trains,  and 
mantles  of  ermine,  suddenly  put  off 
thesp  accoutrements,  and  arrayed  them- 
selves in  most  splendid  vestments,  which 
had  the  appearance  of  being  made  of 
carved  gold.  The  tedious  ceremony  of 
each  separately  kissing  the  pope's  hand, 
and  making  their  three  little  bows,  being 
gone  through,  and  some  little  chaunting 
and  fidgetting  about  the  altar  being  got 
over,  two  palm  branches,  of  seven  or 
eight  feet  in  length,  were  brought  to  the 
pope,  who,  after  raising  over  them  a 
cloud  of  incense,  bestowed  his  bene- 
diction upon  them  :  then  a  great  number 
of  smaller  palms  were  brought,  and  a 
cardinal,  who  acted  as  the  pope's  aid-de- 
camp on  this  occasion,  presented  one  of 
these  to  every  cardinal  as  he  ascended 
the  steps  of  the  throne,  who  again  kissed 
the  pope's  hand  and  the  palm,  and  re- 
tired. Then  came  the  archbishops,  who 
kissed  both  the  pope's  hand  and  toe,  fol- 
lowed by  the  inferior  orders  of  clergy, 
in  regular  gradations,  who  only  kissed 
the  toe.  as  they  carried  off  their  palms. 

The  higher  dignitaries  being  at  last 
provided  with  palms,  the  deacons,  canons, 
choristers,  cardinals,  train-bearers,  &c. 
had  each  to  receive  branches  of  olive, 
to  which,  as  well  as  to  the  palms,  a  small 
cross  was  suspended.  At  last,  all  were 
ready  to  act  their  parts,  and  the  pro- 
cession began  to  move  :  it  began  with 
the  lowest  in  clerical  rank,  who  moved  off 
two  by  two,  rising  gradually  in  dignity, 
till  they  came  to  prelates,  bishops,  arch- 
bishops, and  cardinals,  and  terminated  by 
the  pope,  borne  in  his  chair  of  state 
(sedia  gestatoria)  on  men's  shoulders, 
with  a  crimson  canopy  over  his  head. 
By  far  the  most  striking  figures  in  the 
procession  were  the  bishops  and  patri- 
archs of  the  Armenian  church.  One  of 
them  wore  a  white  crown,  and  another  a 
crimson  crown  glittering  with  jewels. 
The  mitres  of  the  bishops  were  also  set 
with  precious  stones;  and  their  splendid 
dresses,  and  long  wavy  beards  of  silver 
whiteness,  gave  them  a  most  venerable 
and  imposing  appearance. 

The  procession  issued  forth  into  the 
Sala  Borgia  (the  hall  behind  the  Sistine 
chapel),  and  marched  round  it,  forming 
nearly  a  circle  ;  for  by  the  time  the  pope 
had  gone  out,  the  leaders  of  the  pro- 
cession had  nearly  come  back  again  ;  but 
they  found  the  gates  of  the  chapel  closed 


against  them,  and,  on  admittance  being 
demanded,  a  voice  was  heard  from  within, 
in  deep  recitative,  seemingly  inquiring 
into  their  business,  or  claims  for  entrance 
there.  This  was  answered  by  the  choris- 
ters from  the  procession  in  the  hall ;  and 
after  a  chaunted  parley  of  a  few  minutes, 
the  gates  were  again  opened,  and  the 
pope,  cardinals,  and  priests,  returned  to 
their  seats.  Then  the  passion  was 
chaunted  ;  and  then  a  most  tiresome  long 
service  commenced,  in  which  the  usual 
genuflections,  and  tinkling  of  little  bells, 
and  dressings  and  undressings,  and  walk- 
ing up  and  coming  down  the  steps  of 
the  altar,  and  bustling  about,  went  on ; 
and  which  at  last  terminated  in  the  .car- 
dinals all  embracing  and  kissing  each 
other,  which  is  considered  the  kiss  of 
peace. 

The  palms  are  artificial,  plaited  of 
straw,  or  the  leaves  of  dried  reeds,  so  as 
to  resemble  the  real  branches  of  the  palm- 
tree  when  their  leaves  are  plaited,  which 
are  used  in  this  manner  for  this  ceremony 
in  the  catholic  colonies  of  tropical  cli- 
mates. These  artificial  palms,  however, 
are  topped  with  some  of  the  real  leaves  of 
the  palm-tree,  brought  from  the  shores  of 
the  gulf  of  Genoa.* 

Palm  Sunday  in  Spain. 

The  following  is  a  description  of  the 
celebration  of  this  day  in  the  cathedral  of 
Seville : — 

Early  in  the  morning,  the  melancholy 
sound  cf  the  passion-hell  announces  the 
beginning  of  the  solemnities  for  which  the 
fast  of  Lent  is  a  preparation.  This  bell, 
the  largest  of  several  which  are  made  to 
revolve  upon  pivots,  is  moved  by  means 
of  two  long  ropes,  which  by  swinging  the 
bell  into  a  circular  motion,  are  twined, 
gently  at  first,  round  the  massive  arms  of 
a  cross,  of  which  the  bell  forms  the  foot, 
and  the  head  its  counterpoise.  Six  men 
then  draw  back  the  ropes,  till  the  enormous 
machine  receives  a  sufficient  impetus  to 
coil  them  in  an  opposite  direction ;  and 
thus  alternately,  as  long  as  ringing  is  re- 
quired. To  give  this  bell  a  tone  appro- 
priate to  the  sombre  character  of  the  sea- 
son, it  has  been  cast  with  several  large 
holes  disposed  in  a  circle  round  the  top — 
a  contrivance  which  without  diminishing 
the  vibration  of  the  metal,  prevents  the 
distinct  formation  of  any  musical  note, 
and  converts  the  sound  into  a  dismal 
clangour. 

*  Rome  in  the  Nineteenth  Century. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  19. 


3C4 


The  chapter,  consisting  of  about  eighty 
resident  members,  in  choral  robes  of 
black  silk  with  long  trains  and  hoods, 
^receded  by  the  inferior  ministers,  by 
thirty  clergymen,  in  surplices,  whose  deep 
bass  voices  perform  the  plain  or  Ambro- 
sian  chaunt,  and  by  the  band  of  wind- 
instruments  and  singers,  who  execute  the 
more  artificial  strains  of  modern  or  coun- 
terpoint music,  move  in  a  long  procession 
round  the  farthest  aisles,  each  holding  a 
branch  of  the  oriental,  or  date  palm,  which 
overtopping  the  heads  of  the  assembled 
multitude,  nod  gracefully,  and  bend  into 
elegant  curves  at  every  step  of  the  bearers. 
For  this  purpose  a  number  of  palm-trees 
are  kept  with  their  branches  tied  up  to- 
gether, that,  by  the  want  of  light,  the  more 
tender  shoots  may  preserve  a  delicate  yel- 
low tinge.  The  ceremony  of  blessing 
these  branches  is  solemnly  performed  by 
the  officiating  priest,  previously  to  the 
processJon,  after  which  they  are  sent  by 
the  clergy  to  their  friends,  who  tie  them 
to  the  iron  bars  of  the  balconies,  to  be,  as 
they  believe,  a  protection  against  light- 
ning. 

In  the  long  church-service  for  this  day, 
the  organ  is  silent,  the  voices  being  sup- 
ported by  hautboys  and  bassoons.  All  the 
altars  are  covered  with  purple  or  grey 
curtains.  The  holy  vestments,  during  this 
week,  are  of  the  first-mentioned  colour, 
except  on  Friday,  when  it  is  changed  for 
black.  The  four  accounts  of  our  saviour's 
passion,  appointed  as  gospels  for  this  day, 
Wednesday,  Thursday,  and  Friday,  are 
dramatized  in  the  following  manner  : — 
Outside  of  the  gilt-iron  railing  which  en- 
closes the  presbytery,  are  two  large  pul- 
pits of  the  same  materials,  from  one  of 
which,  at  the  daily  high  mass,  the  sub- 
deacon  chaunts  the  epistle,  as  the  deacon 
does  the  gospel  from  the  other.  A  mov- 
able platform  with  a  desk,  is  placed  be- 
tween the  pulpits  on  the  passion-days ; 
and  three  priests  or  deacons,  in  albes — 
the  white  vestment,  over  which  the  dal- 
matic is  worn  by  the  latter,  and  the  casulla 
by  the  former — appear  on  these  elevated 
posts,  at  the  time  when  the  gospel  should 
be  said.  These  officiating  ministers  are 
chosen  among  the  singers  in  holy  orders, 
one  a  bass,  another  a  tenor,  and  the  third 
a  counter-tenor.  The  tenor  chaunts  the 
narrative  without  changing  from  the  key- 
note, and  makes  a  pause  whenever  he 
comes  to  the  words  of  the  interlocutors 
mentioned  by  the  evangelist.  In  those 
passages  the  words  of  our  saviour  are 


sung  by  the  bass  in  a  solemn  strain.  Th<» 
counter-tenor,  in  a  more  florid  style,  per 
sonates  the  inferior  characters,  such  as 
Peter,  the  maid,  and  Pontius  Pilate.  The 
cries  of  the  priests  and  the  multitude  are 
represented  by  the  band  of  musicians 
within  the  choir.* 

PALM  SUNDAY  CUSTOM 
in  Lincolnshire. 

The  following  letter  is  from  a  corres- 
pondent on  the  spot  where  the  custom  is 
still  preserved. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — There  is  a  singular  ceremony  at 
Caistor  church,  Lincolnshire,  every  Palm 
Sunday,  which  you  may  think  worth  de- 
scribing from  this  account  of  it. 

A  deputy  from  Broughton  brings  a  very 
large  ox-whip,  called  here  a  gad-whip. 
Gad  is  an  old  Lincolnshire  measure  of 
ten  feet ;  the  stock  of  the  gad-whip  is, 
perhaps,  of  the  same  length.  The  whip 
itself  is  constructed  as  follows.  A  large 
piece  of  ash,  or  any  other  wood,  tapered 
towards  the  top,  forms  the  stock  ;  it  is 
wrapt  with  white  leather  half  way  down, 
and  some  small  pieces  of  mountain  ash 
are  enclosed.  The  thong  is  very  large,  and 
made  of  strong  white  leather.  The  man 
comes  to  the  north  porch,  about  the  com- 
mencement of  the  first  lesson,  and  cracks 
his  whip  in  front  of  the  porch  door  three 
times;  he  then,  with  much  ceremony, 
wraps  the  thong  round  the  stock  of  the 
whip,  puts  some  rods  of  mountain  asa 
lengthwise  upon  it,  and  binds  the  whole 
together  with  whip-cord.  He  next  ties 
to  the  top  of  the  whip-stock  a  purse  con- 
taining two  shillings,  (formerly  this  ?um 
was  in  twenty-four  silver  pennies,)  then 
taking  the  whole  upon  his  shoulder,  he 
marches  into  the  church,  where  he  stands 
in  front  of  the  reading  desk  till  the  com- 
mencement of  the  second  lesson :  he  then 
goes  up  nearer,  waves  the  purse  over  the 
head  of  the  clergyman,  kneels  down  on  a 
cushion,  and  continues  in  that  position, 
with  the  purse  suspended  over  the  clergy- 
man's head,  till  the  lesson  is  ended.  After 
the  service  is  concluded,  he  carries  the 
whip,  &c.  to  the  mancr-house  of  Undon,  a 
hamlet  adjoining,  where  he  leaves  it. 
There  is  a  new  whip  made  every  year;  it 
is  made  at  Broughton,  and  left  at  Undon. 

Certain  lands  in  the  parish  of  Brough- 
ton are  held  by  the  tenure  of  this  annual 

*  Doblado's  Letters  from  Spam 


395 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— MARCH  20,21, 


396 


custom,  which  is  maintained  to  the  pre- 
sent time.  I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

__       G.  P.  J 

On  the  19th  of  March,  1755,  three  wo- 
men in  the  village  of  Bergemoletto,  near 
Piedmont,  were  buried  for  thirty-seven 
days  in  the  ruins  of  a  stable,  by  a  heavy 
fall  of  snow.  They  survived  theii  con- 
finement, and  the  facts  relating  to  it  were 
published  by  Ignazio  Somis,  professor  in 
the  university  of  Turin.  With  the  case 
of  these  poor  creatures,  that,  related  at 
p.  176,  of  our  Elizabeth  Woodcock,  who 
remained  so  imprisoned  eight  days,  is 
scarcely  to  be  compared.  Her  sufferings 
highly  interest  the  feelings  ;  a  narration  of 
theirs  would  too  deeply  wound  them. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  41  .  25 


LAMB  SEASON. 
An  Anecdote 

It  is  related  in  the  Scottish  newspapers 
that  about  the  year  1770,  a  Selkirkshire 
farmer,  a  great  original  in  his  way,  and 
remarkable  for  his  fondness  of  a  "  big 
price"  for  every  thing,  attended  at  Lang- 
holm  fair,  and,  notwithstanding  his 
parsimonious  habits,  actually  sold  his 
lambs  to  a  perfect  stranger  upon  his  sim- 
ply promising  to  pay  him  punctually  at 
the  next  market.  On  his  return  home, 
the  farmer's  servants,  who  regularly 
messed  at  the  same  table,  and  seldom 
honoured  him  with  the  name  of  master, 
inquired  "  Weel,  Sandy,  hae  ye  sell't  the 
lambs  ?"  "  Atweel  hae  I,  and  I  gat  sax- 
pence  mair  a-head  for  them  than  ony  body 
in  the  market."  "  And  a'  weel  paid 
siller?"  "  Na,  the  siller's  no  paid  yet,  but 
its  sure  eneuch."  "  Wha's  your  mer- 
chant, and,  and  what's  your  security  ?" 
"  Troth  I  never  spiered,  but  he's  a  decent 
iookin'  man  wi  tap  boots,  and  a  bottle- 
green  coat."  The  servants,  at  this, 
laughed  outright,  and  tauntingly  told  him 
he  would  never  get  a  farthing.  Sandy, 
however,  thought  differently,  and  having 
accidentally  hurt  his  leg  so  as  to  prevent 
him  from  travelling,  he  sent  a  shepherd  to 
Langholm,  with  instructions  to  look  for  a 
man  with  a  bottle-green  coat,  whom  he  was 
sure  he  said,  to  find  standing  near  a  cer- 
tain sign.  The  shepherd  did  as  he  was 
bid,  and,  strange  to  say,  discovered  a 


person  standing  at  the  identical  spot, 
who,  on  learning  his  errand,  inquired 
kindly  for  his  master,  and  paid  the  money 
to  the  uttermost  farthing.  Sandy,  who 
piqued  himself  on  his  skill  in  physiog- 
nomy, heard  the  news  without  emotion, 
and  merely  said,  "  I  wad  at  any  time 
trust  mair  to  looks  than  words,  and  whan 
I  saw  Colly  smeiling  about  hun  sae 
kindly,  I  ken't  weel  eneuch  he  could na 
be  a  scoundrel."  This  result  differs  from 
one  which  might  have  been  expected. 
Sandy  believed  in  a  "  second  sight," 
which,  in  these  times,  a  knowledge  of 
the  arts  of  life  disqualify  most  persons  for 
indulging  on  such  an  occasion. 


p.  374, 
is  stated 


In  an  early  edition  of  vol. 
the  death  of  sir  Isaac  Newton 
to  have  happened  on  this  day  in  the  year 
1727  ;  and  it  is  added,  that  he  was  born 
on  the  25th  of  December  1742,  instead  of 
the  proper  year  1642. 

On  the  same  page  the  death  of  the  ce- 
lebrated earl  Mansfield,  is  mentioned  to 
have  taken  place  on  the  same  day  in  the 
year  1793.  He  was  aged  eighty-nine, 
and  his  autograph  is  now  added  for  the 
gratification  of  those  who  desire  to  be 
acquainted  with  the  hand-writing  of  dis- 
tinguished persons. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  42  .  81. 

;$larrf)  21. 

Benedict. 

Concerning  this  saint  in  our  almanacs, 
see  vol.  i.  p.  380. 

A  SURPRISING  CALCULATION. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
In  the  summer  of  1825,  a  meeting  was 
held  at  Tunbridge  in  Kent,  by  some  gen- 
tlemen interested  in  the  formation  of  a 
rail  road,  in  that  neighbourhood  ;  at  which 
was  a  present  a  young  gentleman  well 
known  for  astonishing  celerity  in  resolving 
difficult  calculations  by  the  aid  of  me- 
mory alone.  One  of  the  company,  a 
great  snuff-taker,  and  good  mathemati- 


397 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  21. 


398 


cian,  proposed  the  following,  (as  he 
thought,)  puzzling  question ; 

"  If  I  take  so  many  (a  given  quantity) 
of  pinches  of  snuff  every  quarter  of 
an  hour,  how  many  pinches  shall  I  have 
taken  in  fifteen  years?" 

The  young  gentleman  in  little  more 
than  a  minute  gave  his  answer. 

The  snuff-taker  called  for  pen,  ink,  and 
paper,  to  examine  the  answer,  when  after 
a  considerable  time  he  declared  it  erro- 
neous;  upon  hearing  which,  the  calcu- 
lator asked  the  snuff-taker  if  he  had  al- 
lowed for  the  leap-years  ?  being  answered 
in  the  negative,  the  snuff-taker  was  re- 
quested to  add  them,  when  the  calcula- 
tor's answer  was  found  to  be  correct  to  a 
single  pinch,  to  the  no  small  astonish- 
ment and  delight  of  the  assembled  party. 

A.  S. 

The  preceding  anecdote  is  wholly  new, 
and,  after  a  "  pinch  of  snuff,"  the  editor 
introduces  a  topic  somewhat  correspond- 
ing. 

"  TOBACCO." 
"  Ex  FUMO  dare  lucem." 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, 

The  use  jf  tobacco,  "  that  stinking- 
weed  so  much  abused  to  God's  disho- 
nour," as  Stow  expresses  himself,  having 
become  so  common,  as  to  be  almost 
"  naturalized  on  English  ground ;"  per- 
haps a  short  article  on  the  subject  at  this 
seasonable  period,  may  not  be  unaccept- 
able to  the  numerous  readers  of  the 
Every-Day  Book.  Let  me  however  be 
understood  in  the  outset. 

I  do  not  mean  to  write  a  historical — 
nor  yet  critical — nor  yet  a  poetical  essay 
on  my  subject — no  !  I  merely  wish  to 
"  cull  a  few  leaves"  from  the  "  fragrant 
herb,"  and  leave  them  for  you  to  burn,  or 
your  readers  to  cut  up,  or  smoke,  at  their 
good  pleasure.  Dropping  all  metaphor, 
the  subject  is  worth  attention,  and  treated 
with  judgment,  might  be  rendered  highly 
interesting.  Resigning  all  pretension 
however  to  that  quality,  1  have  merely 
collected  a  few  "  passages,"  which,  I 
hope,  will  be  considered  worthy  of  a 
place  in  your  interesting  miscellany. 

"  Commencing  our  commencement," 
says  the  old  French  proverb,  my  medical 
dictionary,  (Hooper's)  has  the  following 
under  this  head  : — 

"  Tobacco.     See  Nicotiana." 


"  Nicotiana.  (From  M.  Nicot,  who 
first  brought  it  into  Europe.)  Tobacco.1' 

"  1st.  The  name  of  a  genus  of  plants 
in  the  Linnean  system.  Class  Pentan- 
dria  ;  order,  Monogynia." 

"  2nd.  The  former  pharmacopaeial 
name  of  the  officinal  tobacco,"  &c.  &c. 

Hooper 's  Medical  Dictionary, 
4th  edit.  p.  594. 

In  that  elegant  work,  "  Flora  Domes- 
tica,"  the  botanical  summary  says,  this 
genus  is  named  from  Jean  Nicot  of 
Nismes,  agent  from  the  king  of  France  to 
Portugal,  who  procured  the  seeds  from  a 
Dutchman,  and  sent  them  to  France. 
Tobacco,  from  the  island  Tobago.  The 
French  have  many  names  for  it ;  as,  le 
tabac :  Nicotiane  from  its  first  introducer ; 
petum  [the  original  Indian  appellation  ;] 
herbe  du  grand  prieur  ;  herbe  a  la  Reine  ; 
herbe  sacrie ;  herbe  propre  a  tous  maux  ; 
herbe  de  St.  Croix ;  &c.  &c.  Italian,  ta- 
bacco ;  terna  bona." 

Flora  Domestica,  1823.  p.  365. 

Of  these  names,  the  Italian  one  of 
"  terna  bona,"  is  very  singular,  and  as 
arbitrary  as  need  be,  for  example,  what 
connection  can  there  be  between  tobacco, 
and  the  "  grand  prior,"  the  "  queen's," 
or  the  "  holy  cross  ?"  "  Propre  d  tous 
maux/'  is  rather  too  comprehensive  an 
appellation ;  I  have  copied  but  few  ot 
these  names,  many  as  there  may  appear 
to  be. 

Of  all  the  subjects  which  have  em- 
ployed the  pens  of  writers,  perhaps  no 
one  has  called  forth  so  great  a  diversity 
of  opinion  as  this  ;  and  we  may  perhaps 
go  further,  and  say,  that  no  other  (save 
only,  love  and  war)  has  attracted  so  much 
notice  since  its  introduction.  Popes, 
poets,  historians,  kings,  and  physicians, 
have  dwelt  upon  its  use  and  abuse,  and 
even  historians  have  condescended  to 
mention  it.  But  to  proceed. 

With  regard  to  its  first  introduction  into 
England,  Hume  says,  "  chap.  xli.  Eliz. 
1558,  1603,"  at  the  close  of  the  narra- 
tion of  Drake's  attack  on  the  Spanish 
provinces  in  the  West  Indies.  "  It  is 
thought  that  Drake's  fleet  first  introduced 
the  use  of  tobacco  into  England." 

In  an  after  part  of  his  work  "  Appendix, 
James  I.  1603-1625,"  he  adds, 

"  After  supplying  themselves  with  pro- 
visions more  immediately  necessary  for 
the  support  of  life,  the  new  planters  began 
the  cultivating  of  tobacco ;  and  James 
notwithstanding  his  antipathy  to  that 
drug,  which  he  affirmed  to  be  pernicious 


399 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— MARCH  21. 


400 


to  men's  morals  as  well  as  health,  gave 
them  permission  to  enter  it  in  England  ; 
and  he  inhibited  by  proclamation  all  im- 
portation of  it  from  Spain." 

At  this  period  originated  the  story  of 
the  wetting  poor  sir  Walter  Raleigh,  re- 
ceived from  the  hands  (and  bucket)  of 
his  servant ;  this,  however,  is  too  common 
to  deserve  transferring  to  your  pages. 
The  following  facts,  however,  are  not  so 
generally  known.  "  On  the  first  intro- 
duction of  tobacco,  our  ancestors  carried 
its  use  to  an  enormous  excess,  smoking 
even  in  the  churches,  which  made  pope 
Urban  VIII.  in  1624,  publish  a  decree 
of  excommunication  against  those  who 
used  such  an  unseemly  practice;  and 
Innocent  XII.  A.D.  1690,  solemnly  excom« 
municated  all  those  who  should  take 
snuff  or  tobacco,  in  St.  Peter's  church  at 
Rome."  Flora  Domestica,  p.  367. 

This  excess  is  perhaps  only  equalled 
by  the  case  of  William  Breedon,  vicar 
of  Thornton,  Bucks,  "  a  profound 
divine,  but  absolutely  the  most  polite  per- 
son for  nativities  in  that  age ;"  of  whom 
William  Lilly,  "  student  in  astrology," 
says,  "  when  he  had  no  tobacco,  (and  I 
suppose  too  much  drink,)  he  would  cut 
the  bell  ropes  and  smoke  them." — His- 
tory of  Lilly's  Life  and  Times,  p.  44.* 

To  the  eulogist  of  tobacco,  who,  on 
column  195  of  your  present  volume,  defies 
"  all  daintie  meats,"  and 

"  Keeps  his  kitchen  in  a  box, 

And  roast  meat  in  a  pipe," 

take  as  an  antidote  the  following  from 
Peter  Hausted's  Raphael  Thorius  :  Lon- 
don, 1551. 

Let  it  be  damn'd   to  Hell,   and  call'd   from 

thence, 

Proserpine's  wine,  the  Furies'  frankincense, 
The  Devil's  addle  eggs. 


Little  tube  of  mighty  power, 
Charmer  of  an  idle  hour, 
Object  of  my  warm  desire  } 
Lip  of  wax,  and  eye  of  fire  ; 
-  And  thy  snowy  taper  waist, 
With  my  finger  gently  brac'd  ;  &c. 

In  our  own  times  the  following  have 
appeared. 

"  La  Pipe  de  Tabac,"  a  French  song  to 
music,  by  Geweaux,  contains  the  follow- 
ing humorous  stanzas  :— 

"  Le  soldat  bailie  sous  la  tente, 

Le  matelotsur  le  tillac, 
Bientot  ils  ont  1'ame  contente, 

Avec  la  pipe  de  tabac; 
Si  pourtant  survient  une  belle, 

A  Tinstant  le  cceurfait  tic  tac, 
Etl'Amant  oublie  auprfes  d'elle, 

Jusqu'a  la.  pipe  de  tabac. 

"  Je  tiens  cette  maxime  utile, 

De  ce  fameux  Monsieur  de  Crac, 
En  campagne  comme  a  la  ville, 

Font  tous  1'amour  et  le  tabac, 
Quand  ce  grand  homme  allait  en  guerre 

II  portait  dans  son  petit  sac, 
Le  doux  portrait  de  sa  bergere, 

Avec  la  pipe  de  tabac." 

In  the  accompanying  English  version, 
they  are  thus  imitated  :— 

See,  content,  the  soldier  smiling 

Round  the  vet'ran  smoking  crew 
And  the  tar,  the  time  beguiling, 

S'ghs  and  whiffs,  and  thinks  of  Sue. 
Calm  the  bosom  ;  naught  distresses  ; — 

Labour's  harvest's  nearly  ripe  ; — 
*  Susan's  health  ;' — the  brim  he  presses, — 

Here  alone  he  quits  his  pipe. 

Faithful  still  to  every  duty 

Ne'er  his  faithful  heart  will  roam  ; 
Mines  of  wealth,  and  worlds  of  beauty, 

Tempt  him  not  from  Susan's  home. 
From  his  breast — wherever  steering, 

Oft  a  sudden  tear  to  wipe, 
Susan's  portrait, — sorrow  cheering, 

First  he  draws — and  then  his  pipe ! 


Our  immortal  Byron,  in  his  poem  of 
"  The  Island,"  sings  thus  the  praises  of 
"  the  Indian  weed  :"— • 


Hawkins  Brown,  esq.,  parodying  Am- 
brose Philips,  writes  thus  prettily  to  his 
pipe  :— 

Sublime  tobacco ! — which  from  east  to  west 
Cheers  the  tar's  labours,  or  the  Turkman's  rest  •, 
Which  on  the  Moslem's  ottoman  divides 
His  hours, — and  rivals  opium  and  his  brides  ; 
Magnificent  in  Stamboul,  but  less  grand, 
Though  not  less  loved,  in  Wapping  or  the  Strand  ; 

*  "  The  following  commendation  of  Lilly  is  inserted  under  a  curious  frontispiece  to  his    'Ammo 
Afltrologise,"  1676,  "  containing  portraits  of  Cardan,  (luido,  and  himself. 
"  Let  Envy  burst — Vrania's  glad  to  see 
Her  sons  thus  loyn'd  in  a  Triplicity  ; 
To  Cardan  and  to  Guide  much  is  due, 
But  in  one  Lilly  wee  hohold  them  Two." 


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402 


Divine  in  hookas,  glorious  in  a  pipe 

When  tipped  with  amber,  mellow,  rich,  and  ripe ; 

Like  other  charmers,  wooing  the  caress 

More  dazzlingly  when  daring  in  full  dress ; 

Yet  thy  true  lovers  more  admire  by  far, 

Thy  naked  beauties —  Give  me  a  cigar ! 


If,  Sir,  you  should  deem  this  communi- 
cation worthy  of  your  notice,  I  shall  feel 
inclined  to  pursue  my  researches  farther; 
and,  whatever  the  result,  allow  me  in  the 
mean  time  to  subscribe  myself, 

Your  well-wisher, 

FUMO. 

P.  S.  Should  you,  Sir,  burn  this,  the 
Roman  ad  age,  which  I  have  used  as  my 
motto,  will  be  once  more  verified. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  43-  44. 


22. 

Passion  Wednesday. 

In  1826,  this,  being  the  Wednesday  be- 
fore Easter,  called  Passion  Wednesday, 
is  celebrated  with  great  solemnity  in  ca- 
tholic countries.  At  Seville  a  white  veil 
conceals  the  officiating  priest  and  minis- 
ters, during  mass,  until  the  words  in  the 
service  "  the  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent 
in  twain"  are  chaunted.  At  this  moment 
the  veil  disappears,  as  if  by  enchantment, 
and  the  ears  of  the  congregation  are 
stunned  with  the  noise  of  concealed  fire- 
works, which  are  meant  to  imitate  an 
earthquake. 

The  evening  service,  named  Tinieblas, 
(darkness)  is  performed  this  day  after  sun- 
set. The  cathedral,  on  this  occasion,  ex- 
hibits the  most  solemn  and  impressive 
aspect.  The  high  altar,  concealed  behind 
dark  grey  curtains  which  fall  from  the 
height  of  the  cornices,  is  dimly  lighted 
by  six  yellow  wax  candles,while  the  gloom 
of  the  whole  temple  is  broken  in  large 
masses  by  wax  torches,  fixed  one  on  each 
pillar  of  the  centre  aisle,  about  one-third 
of  its  length  from  the  ground.  An  ele- 
gant candlestick  of  brass,  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  feet  high,  is  placed,  on  this  and 
the  following  evening,  between  the  choir 
and  the  altar,  holding  thirteen  candles, 
twelve  of  yellow,  and  one  of  bleached 
wax,  distributed  on  the  two  sides  of  the 
triangle  which*  terminates  the  machine. 
Each  candle  stands  by  a  brass  figure  of 
one  of  the  apostles.  The  white  candle 
occupying  the  apex  is  allotted  to  the  virgin 


Mary.  At  the  conclusion  01  each  of  the 
twelve  psalms  appointed  for  the  service, 
one  of  the  yellow  candles  is  extinguished, 
till,  the  white  taper  burning  alone,  it  is 
taken  down  and  concealed  behind  the 
altar.  Immediately  after  the  ceremony, 
the  Miserere,  (Psalm  50.)  set,  every  other 
year,  to  a  new  strain  of  music,  is  sung  in 
a  grand  style.  This  performance  lasts 
exactly  an  hour.  At  the  conclusion  of 
the  last  verse  the  clergy  break  up  abruptly 
without  the  usual  blessing,  making  a  thun- 
dering noise  by  clapping  their  movable 
seats  against  the  frame  of  the  stalls,  or 
knocking  their  ponderous  breviaries 
agains*  the  boards,  as  the  rubric  directs.* 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  22d  of  March,  1687,  Jean 
Baptiste  Lully,  the  eminent  musical  com- 
poser, died  at  Paris.  He  was  born  of  ob- 
scure parents  at  Florence,  in  1634,  and 
evincing  a  taste  for  music,  a  benevolent 
cordelier,  influenced  by  no  other  consider- 
ation than  the  hope  of  his  becoming  emi- 
nent in  the  science,  undertook  to  teach 
him  the  guitar.  While  under  his  tuition, 
a  French  gentleman,  the  chevalier  Guise, 
arrived  at  Florence,  commissioned  by 
Mile,  de  Montpensier,  niece  to  Louis 
XIV.,  to  bring  her  some  pretty  little 
Italian  boy  as  a  page.  The  countenance 
of  Lully  did  not  answer  to  the  instructions, 
but  his  vivacity,  wit,  and  skill  on  an  instru- 
ment, as  much  the  favourite  of  the  French 
as  of  the  Italians,  determined  the  chevalier 
to  send  him  to  Paris.  On  his  arrival,  he 
was  presented  to  the  lady ;  but  his  figure 
obtained  for  him  so  cool  a  reception,  that 
she  commanded  him  to  be  entered  in  her 
household  books  as  an  under-scullion. 
Lully  was  at  this  time  ten  years  old.  In 
the  moments  of  his  leisure  from  the 
kitchen,  he  used  to  scrape  upon  a  wretch- 
ed fiddle.  He  was  overheard  by  a  per- 
son about  the  court,  who  informed  the 
princess  he  had  an  excellent  taste  for 
music,  and  a  master  was  employed  to 
teach  him  the  violin,  under  whom  in  the 
course  of  a  few  months,  he  became  so 

*  Doblado's  Letter*  from  Spain. 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  22. 


40 


great  a  proficient,  that  he  was  elevated  to 
the  rank  of  court-musician.  In  conse- 
quence of  an  unlucky  accident  he  was 
dismissed  from  this  situation ;  but,  obtain- 
ing  admission  into  the  king's  band  of  vio- 
lins, he  applied  himself  so  closely  to  study, 
that  in  a  little  time  he  began  to  compose. 
His  airs  were  noticed  by  theking,Lully  was 
sent  for,  and  his  performance  of  them  was 
thought  so  excellent,  that  a  new  band  was 
formed,  called  les  petits  violons,  and  un- 
der his  direction  it  surpassed  the  band  of 
twenty-four,  till  that  time  celebrated 
throughout  Europe.  This  was  about 
the  year  1 660,  when  the  favourite  enter- 
tainments at  the  French  court  were 
dramatic  representations,  consisting  of 
dancing  intermixed  with  singing  and 
speaking  in  recitative  j  they  were  called 
ballets,  and  to  many  of  them  Lully  was 
employed  in  composing  the  music. 

In  1669,  an  opera  in  the  French  lan- 
guage, on  the  model  of  that  at  Venice, 
being  established  at  Paris,  Lully  obtained 
the  situation  of  composer  and  joint  direc- 
tor, left  his  former  band,  instituted  one  of 
his  own,  and  formed  the  design  of  build- 
ing a  new  theatre  near  the  Luxemburg 
palace,  which  he  accomplished,  and 
opened  in  November,  1670. 

Previous  to  this,  Lully,  having  been 
appointed  superintendent  to  the  king's 
private  music,  had  neglected  the  practice 
of  the  violin  ;  yet,  whenever  he  could  be 
prevailed  with  to  play,  his  excellence 
astonished  all  who  heard  him. 

In  1686,  the  king  recovering  from  an 
indisposition  that  threatened  his  life,  Lully 
composed  a  "  Te  Deum,"  which  was  not 
more  remarkable  for  its  excellence,  than 
the  unhappy  accident  with  which  its  per- 
formance was  attended.  In  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  execution  of  it,  and  the  more 
to  demonstrate  his  zeal,  he  himself  beat 
the  time.  With  the  cane  that  he  used  for 
this  purpose,  he  struck  his  foot,  which 
caused  so  much  inflammation,  that  his 
physician  advised  him  to  have  his  little  toe 
taken  off;  and,  after  a  delay  of  some  days, 
his  foot ;  and  at  length  the  whole  limb. 
At  this  juncture,  an  empiric  offered  to 
perform  a  cure  without  amputation.  Two 
thousand  pistoles  were  promised  him  if 
he  should  accomplish  it,  but  his  efforts 
werp  vain  ;  and  Lully  died. 

Lully's  confessor  in  his  last  illness  re- 
quired as  a  testimony  of  his  sincere  re- 
pentance, and  as  the  condition  of  his 
absolution,  that  he  should  throw  the  last 
of  his  operas  into  the  fire.  After  some 


excuses,  Lully  acquiesced,  and  pointing 
to  a  drawer  in  which  the  rough  draft  of 
"  Achilles  and  Pollvenes"  was  deposited, 
it  was  .taken  out  and  burnt,  and  the  con« 
fessor  went  away  satisfied.  Lully  grew 
better  and  was  thought  out  of  danger, 
when  one  of  the  young  princes  came  to 
visit  him  :  "  What,  Baptiste,"  says  he  to 
him,  "  have  you  thrown  your  opera  into 
the  fire  ?  You  were  a  fool  for  thus  giving 
credit  to  a  gloomy  Jansenist,  and  burning 
good  music."  "  Hush  !  hush  !  my  lord," 
answered  Lully,  in  a  whisper,  "  I  knew 
very  well  what  I  was  about,  I  have  ano- 
ther copy  of  it !"  This  pleasantry  was 
followed  by  a  relapse ;  and  the  prospect 
of  inevitable  death  threw  him  into  such 
pangs  of  remorse,  that  he  submitted  to 
be  laid  on  ashes  with  a  cord  round  his 
neck  ;  and,  in  this  situation,  he  chaunted  a 
deep  sense  of  his  late  trangression. 

Lully  contributed  greatly  to  the  im- 
provement of  French  music.  In  his 
overtures  he  introduced  fugues,  and  was 
the  first  who,  in  the  choruses,  made  use 
of  the  side  and  kettle  drums.  It  is  diffi- 
cult to  characterize  his  style,  which  seems 
to  have  been  derived  from  no  other 
source  than  his  own  invention. 

His  compositions  were  chiefly  operas 
and  other  dramatic  entertainments,  adapt- 
ed to  the  desires  of  Louis  XIV.,  who 
was  fond  of  dancing,  and  had  not  taste 
for  any  music  but  airs,  in  the  composition 
of  which  a  stated  number  of  bars  was 
the  chief  rule  to  be  observed.  Of  har- 
mony or  fine  melody,  or  of  the  relation 
between  poetry  and  music,  he  seems  to 
have  had  no  conception  ;  and  these  were 
restraints  upon  Lully's  talents. 

He  is  said  to  have  been  the  inventor  of 
that  species  of  composition,  the  overture; 
for,  though  the  symphonies  or  preludes 
of  Carissimi,  Colonna,  and  others,  are, 
in  effect,  overtures,  yet  they  were  compo- 
sitions of  a  mild  and  placid  kind,  while 
Lully's  are  animated  and  full  of  energy.* 

Notwithstanding  the  character  of 
Lully's  compositions,  when  unrestricted 
by  the  royal  command  and  the  bad  taste 
of  the  court,  he  was  one  day  reproached 
with  having  set  nothing  to  music  but 
languid  verses.  He  flew  to  his  harpsi- 
chord, and  wildly  running  over  the 
keys,  sung,  with  great  violence  of  ges- 
ture, the  following  terrific  lines  from 
Racine's  tragedy  of  "  Iphigenie  :" 

*•  Bioprapli.  Dictionary  of  Musicians. 


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406 


"  Un  pretre  environne  d'une  foule  cruelle 
Porlera  sur  ma  fille,  une  maine  criminelle 
Dechirera  son  sein,  et  d'un  ceil  curieux 
t)ans   son   cceur  palpitant  consultera   les 
Dieux." 

When  cardinal  d'Estrees  was  at  Rome, 
he  highly  praised  Corelli's  sonatas  to  that 
eminent  composer.  "  Sir,"  replied  Co- 
relli,  "if  they  have  any  merit  it  is  be- 
cause I  have  studied  Lully."  Handel 
has  imitated  Lully  in  many  of  his  over- 
tures. * 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  42  •  79. 


23. 


MAUNDY  THURSDAY. 

Shere  Thursday. 

These  denominations  have  been  suffi- 
ciently explained  in  vol.  i.  p.  400,  with 
an  account  of  the  Maundy  at  the  chapel 
royal  St.  James's.  The  Romish  church  this 
day  institutes  certain  ceremonies  to  com- 
memorate the  washing  of  the  disciples' 
feet. 

Celebration  of  the  day  at  Seville. 

The  particulars  of  these  solemnities 
are  recorded  by  the  rev.  Blanco  White. 

The  ceremonies  of  the  high  mass,  are 
especially  intended  as  a  remembrance  of 
the  last  supper,  and  the  service,  as  it 
proceeds,  rapidly  assumes  the  deepest 
hues  of  melancholy.  The  bells,  in  every 
steeple,  from  one  loud  and  joyous  peal, 
cease  at  once,  and  leave  a  peculiar  heavy 
stillness,  which  none  can  conceive  but 
those  who  have  lived  in  a  populous 
Spanish  town  long  enough  to  lose  the 
sense  of  that  perpetual  tinkling  which 
agitates  the  ear  during  the  day  and  great 
part  of  the  night. 

In  every  church  a  "  host,"  consecrated 
at  the  mass,  is  carried  with  great  solem- 
nity to  a  temporary  structure,  called  the 
monument,  which  is  erected  with  more  or 
less  splendour,  according  to  the  wealth  of 
the  establishment.  It  is  there  deposited 
in  a  silver  urn,  generally  shaped  like  a 
sepulchre,  the  key  of  which,  hanging 
from  a  gold  chain,  is  committed  by  the 
priest  to  the  care  of  a  chief  inhabitant  of 
the  parish,  who  wears  it  round  his  neck 
as  a  badge  of  honour,  till  the  next  morn- 


*  Seward 


ing.  The  key  of  the  cathedral  monument 
is  intrusted  to  the  archbishop,  if  present, 
or  to  the  dean  in  his  absence. 

The  striking  effect  of  the  last-men- 
tioned structure,  the  "  monument"  in  the 
cathedral,  is  not  easily  conceived.  It 
fills  up  the  space  between  four  arches  of 
the  nave,  rising  in  five  bodies  to  the  roof 
of  the  temple.  The  columns  of  the  two 
lower  tiers,  which,  like  the  rest  of  the 
monument,  imitate  white  marble  filletted 
with  gold,  are  hollow,  allowing  the  nu- 
merous attendants  who  take  care  of  the 
lights  that  cover  it  from  the  ground  to  the 
very  top,  to  do  their  duty  during  four- 
and-twenty  hours,  without  any  disturb- 
ance or  unseemly  bustle.  More  than 
three  thousand  pounds  of  wax,  besides 
one  hundred  and  sixty  silver  lamps,  are 
employed  in  the  illumination. 

The  gold  casket  set  with  jewels,  which 
contains  the  host,  lies  deposited  'in  ar. 
elegant  temple  of  massive  silver,  weigh- 
ing five  hundred  and  ten  marks,  which  is 
seen  through  a  blaze  of  light  on  the  pedi- 
ment of  the  monument,  Two  members 
of  the  chapter  in  their  choral  robes,  and 
six  inferior  priests  in  surplices,  attend  0:1 
their  knees  before  the  shrine,  till  they  are 
relieved  by  an  equal  number  of  the  same 
classes  at  the  end  of  every  hour.  This 
adoration  is  performed  without  interrup- 
tion from  the  moment  of  depositing  the 
host  in  the  casket  till  that  of  taking  it 
out  the  next  morning.  The  cathedral, 
as  well  as  many  others  of  the  wealthiest 
churches,  are  kept  open  and  illuminated 
the  whole  night. 

One  of  the  public  sights  of  the  town, 
on  this  day,  is  the  splendid  cold  dinner 
which  the  archbishop  gives  to  twelve 
paupers,  in  commemoration  of  the 
apostles.  The  dinner  is  to  be  seen  laid 
out  on  tables  filling  up  two  large  rooms  in 
the  palace.  The  twelve  guests  are  com- 
pletely clothed  at  the  expense  of  their 
host ;  and  having  partaken  of  a  more 
homely  dinner  in  the  kitchen,  they  are 
furnished  with  large  baskets  to  take  away 
the  splendid  commons  allotted  to  each  in 
separate  dishes,  which  they  sell  to  the 
gourmands  of  the  town.  Each,  besides, 
is  allowed  to  dispose  of  his  napkin, 
curiously  made  up  into  the  figure  of  some 
bird  or  quadruped,  which  people  buy 
as  ornaments  to  their  china  cupboards, 
and  as  specimens  of  the  perfection  to 
which  some  of  the  poorer  nuns  have  car- 
ried the  art  of  plaiting. 

At  two  in  the  afternoon,  the  archbishop, 


-tor 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  23. 


4oa 


attended  by  his  cbapter,  repairs  to  tbe 
catbedral,  where  be  performs  tbe  cere- 
mony, which,  from  the  notion  of  its  being 
literally  enjoined  by  our  saviour,  is  called 
the  mandatum.  The  twelve  paupers  are 
seated  on  a  platform  erected  befoie  the 
high  altai,  and  the  prelate,  stripped  of  his 
silk  robes,  and  kneehng  successively  be- 
fore each,  washes  their  feet  in  a  large 
silver  bason. 

About  this  time  the  processions, known 
by  the  name  of  cofracTias,  (confraterni- 
ties^ begin  to  move  out  of  the  different 
churches  to  which  they  are  attached.  The 
head  of  tbe  police  appoints  the  hour 
when  each  of  these  pageants  is  to  appear 
in  the  square  of  the  town  hall,  and  the 
audiencia  or  court  of  justice.  From 
thence  their  route  to  the  cathedral,  and 
out  of  it,  to  a  certain  point,  is  the  same 
for  all.  These  streets  are  lined  by  two 
rows  of  spectators  of  the  lower  classes, 
the  windows  being  occupied  by  those  of 
a  higher  rank.  An  order  is  previously 
published  by  the  town-crier,  directing 
the  inhabitants  to  decorate  their  windows, 
which  they  do  by  hanging  out  the  showy 
silk  and  chintz  counterpanes  of  their 
beds.  As  to  the  processions  themselves, 
except  one  which  has  the  privilege  of 
parading  the  town  in  the  dead  of  night, 
they  have  little  to  attract  the  eye  or  affect 
the  imagination.  Their  chief  object  is  to 
convey  groups  of  figures,  as  large  as  life, 
representing  different  scenes  of  our 
saviour's  passion. 

There  is  something  remarkable  in  the 
established  and  characteristic  marks  of 
some  figures.  The  Jews  are  distinguished 
by  long  aquiline  noses.  Saint  Peter  is 
completely  bald.  The  dress  of  the 
apostle  John  is  green,  and  that  of  Judas 
Iscariot  yellow ;  and  so  intimately  asso- 
ciated is  this  circumstance  with  the  idea 
of  the  traitor,  that  it  has  brought  that 
colour  into  universal  discredit.  It  is 
probably  from  this  circumstance,  (though 
yellow  may  have  been  allotted  to  Judas 
from  some  more  ancient  prejudice,)  that 
the  inquisition  has  adopted  it  for  the 
sanbenito,  or  coat  of  infamy,  which  per- 
sons convicted  of  heresy  are  compelled 
to  wear.  The  red  hair  of  Judas,  like 
Peter's  baldness,  seems  to  be  agreed  upon 
by  all  the  painters  and  sculptors  in 
Europe.  Judas'  hair  is  a  usual  name  in 
Spain;  and  a  similar  application,  it 
should  seem,  was  used  in  England  in 
Shakspeare's  time.  "His  hair,"  says 
Rosalind,  in  As  you  like  it,  "  is  of  the 


dissembling  colour :"  to  which  Celia 
answers  —  "  Something  browner  than 
Judas's." 

The  midnight  procession  derivea  con- 
siderable effect  from  the  stillness  of  the 
hour,  and  the  dress  of  the  attendants  on 
the  sacred  image.  None  are  admitted  to 
this  religious  act  but  the  members  of  that 
fraternity ;  generally  young  men  of 
fashion.  They  all  appear  in  a  black 
tunic,  with  a  broad  belt  so  contrived  as  to 
give  the  idea  of  a  long  rope  tied  tight 
round  the  body ;  a  method  of  penance 
commonly  practised  in  former  times.  The 
face  is  covered  with  a  long  black  veil, 
falling  from  a  sugar-loaf  cap  three  feet 
high.  Thus  arrayed,  the  nominal  peni- 
tents advance,  with  silent  and  measured 
steps,  in  two  lines,  dragging  a  train  six 
feet  long,  and  holding  aloft  a  wax-candle 
of  twelve  pounds,  which  they  rest  upon 
the  hip-bone,  holding  it  obliquely  towards 
the  vacant  space  between  them.  The 
veils,  being  of  the  same  stuff  with  the 
cap  and  tunic,  would  absolutely  impede 
the  sight  but  for  two  small  holes  through 
which  the  eyes  are  seen  to  gleam,  adding 
no  small  effect  to  the  dismal  appearance 
of  such  strange  figures.  The  pleasure  of 
appearing  in  a  disguise,  in  a  country 
where  masquerades  are  not  tolerated  by 
the  government,  is  a  great  inducement, 
to  the  young  men  for  subscribing  to  this 
religious  association.  The  disguise,  it  is 
true,  does  not  in  the  least  relax  the  rules 
of  strict  decorum  which  the  ceremony  re- 
quires ;  yet  the  mock  penitents  think 
themselves  repaid  for  the  fatigue  and 
trouble  of  the  night  by  the  fresh  impres- 
sion which  they  expect  to  make  on  the 
already  won  hearts  of  their  mistresses, 
who,  by  preconcerted  signals,  are  enabled 
to  distinguish  their  lovers,  in  spite  of  the 
veils  and  the  uniformity  of  the  dresses. 

It  is  scarcely  forty  years  since  the  dis- 
gusting exhibition  of  people  streaming  in 
their  own  blood,  was  discontinued  by  an 
order  of  the  government.  These  peni- 
tents were  generally  from  among  the 
most  debauched  and  abandoned  of  the 
lower  classes.  They  appeared  in  white 
linen  petticoats,  pointed  white  caps  and 
veils,  and  a  jacket  of  the  same  colour, 
which  exposed  their  naked  shoulders  to 
view.  Having,  previous  to  their  joining 
the  procession,  been  scarified  on  the 
back,  they  beat  themselves  with  a  cat-o'- 
nine-tails,  making  the  blood  run  down  to 
the  skirts  of  their  garment.  It  may  be 
easily  conceived  that  religion  had  no 


409 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— MARCH  24. 


410 


share  in  these  voluntary  inflictions.  They  tarry  away  what  they  cannot  eat, 
There  was  a  notion  afloat,  that  this  act  of  and  receive  a  small  present  in  money 
penance  had  on  excellent  effect  on  the  besides."* 

constitution.*  

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  43  •  15 

The  pope  commemorates  the  washing 
of  the  disciples'  feet  by  officiating  in  per- 
son. A  modern  traveller  who  was  pre- 
sent at  the  ceremony  says, — "  There  were 
thirteen  instead  of  twelve  ;  the  one  being 
the  representative  of  the  angel  that  once 
came  to  the  table  of  twelve  that  St.  Gre- 
gory was  serving.  The  twelve  were  old 
priests,  but  the  one  who  performed  the 
part  of  the  angel  was  very  young.  They 
were  all  dressed  in  loose  white  gowns, 
and  white  caps  on  their  heads,  and  clean 
woollen  stockings,  and  were  seated  in  a 
row  along  the  wall,  under  a  canopy. 
When  the  pope  entered  and  took  h  s  seat 
at  the  top  of  the  room,  the  whole  com- 
pany of  them  knelt  in  their  places,  turn- 
ing towards  him  ;  and  on  his  hand  being 
extended  in  benediction,  they  all  rose 
again  and  reseated  themselves.  The 
splendid  garments  of  the  pope  were  then 
taken  off;  and  clad  in  a  white  linen  robe 
which  he  had  on  under  the  others,  and 
wearing  the  bishop's  mitre  instead  of  the 
tiara,  he  approached  the  pilgrims,  took 
from  an  attendant  cardinal  a  silver  bucket 
of  water,  knelt  before  the  first  of  them, 
immersed  one  foot  in  the  water,  put 
water  over  it  with  his  hand,  and  touched 
it  with  a  square  fringed  cloth;  kissed 
the  leg,  and  gave  the  cloth,  and  a  sort  of 
white  flower  or  feather,  to  the  man ;  then 
went  on  to  the  next.  The  whole  cere- 
mony was  over,  I  think,  in  less  than  two 
minutes,  so  rapidly  was  this  act  of  hu- 
mility gone  through.  From  thence  the 
pope  returned  to  his  throne,  put  on  his 
robes  of  white  and  silver  again,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  Sala  di  Tavola :  the  thir- 
teen priests  were  seated  in  a  row  at  thjs 
table,  which  was  spread  with  a  variety  of 
dishes,  and  adorned  with  a  profusion  of 
flowers.  The  pope  gave  the  blessing, 
and  walking  along  the  side  of  the  table 
opposite  to  them,  handed  each  of  them 
bread,  then  plates,  and  lastly,  cups  of 
wine.  They  regularly  all  rose  up  to  re- 
ceive what  he  presented ;  and  the  pope 
having  gone  through  the  forms  of  service, 
and  given  them  his  parting  benediction, 
left  them  to  finish  their  dinner  in  peace. 


GOOD  FRIDAY. 

This  annual  commemoration  is  the 
only  one  observed  in  England,  with  the 
exception  of  Christmas,  by  the  suspension 
of  all  business,  and  the  closing  of  shops. 
The  late  bishop  Porteus  having  particu- 
larly insisted  on  this  method  of  keeping 
Good  Friday,  the  reverend  Robert  Robin- 
son of  Cambridge  wrote  a  remarkable 
pamphlet,  entitled,  "The  History  and 
Mystery  of  Good  Friday,"  wherein  he 
urges  various  statements  and  arguments 
against  the  usage.  This  tract  has  been 
published  from  time  to  time  by  Mr. 
Benjamin  Flower.  The  controversy  is 
referred  to,  because  the  writings  of  the 
bishop  and  his  opponent  state  the  grounds 
on  both  sides.  It  is  to  be  remarked 
likewise,  that  several  dissenters  openly 
engage  in  their  usual  avocations,  contrary 
to  the  general  practice,  which  does  not 
appear  to  be  enforced  by  the  church  of 
England,  farther  than  by  notices  through 
the  parochial  beadle  and  other  officers. 

Hot-cross  Buns. 

On  the  popular  cry  of  "  hot-cross 
buns,"  and  the  custom  of  eating  them 
to-day,  there  are  particulars  in  vol.  i.  p. 
402 ;  and  in  the  illustration  of  the 
ancient  name  and  use  of  the  bun,  a  few 
interesting  passages  are  added.  "The 
offerings  which  people  in  ancient  times 
used  to  present  to  the  gods,  were  gene- 
rally purchased  at  the  entrance  of  the 
temple ;  especially  every  species  of  con- 
secrated bread,  which  was  denominated 
accordingly.  One  species  of  sacred 
bread  which  used  to  be  offered  to  the 
gods,  was  of  great  antiquity,  and  called 
boun.  The  Greeks,  who  changed  the  nu 
final  into  a  sigma,  expressed  it  in  the 
nominative  Bow,  but  in  the  accusative 
more  truly  boun,  Bow.  Hesychius  speaku 
of  the  boun,  and  describes  it  a  kind  of 
cake  with  a  representation  of  two  horns. 
Julius  Pollux  mentions  it  after  the  same 
manner,  a  sort  of  cake  with  horns. 
Diogenes  Laertius,  speaking  of  the  same 
offering  being  made  by  Empeiocles,  de- 

*  Rome  in  the  Nineteenth  Century. 


411 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK,— MARCH  24. 


scribes  the  chief  ingredients  of  which  it     St.  Bridget,  they  being  desirous  to  know 
was  composed  : — '  he  offered  up  one  of    something  in  particular   of  the   blessed 
1    libra,   called   a   boun,      "' 


the  sacred  libra,  called  a  boun,  which 
was  made  of  fine  flour  and  honey.'  It 
is  said  of  Cecrops,  he  first  offered  up  this 
sort  of  sweet  bread.  Hence  we  may  judge 
of  the  antiquity  of  the  custom,  from  the 
times  to  which  Cecrops  is  referred.  The 
prophet  Jeremiah  takes  notice  of  this 
kind  of  offering  when  he  is  speaking  of 
the  Jewish  women  at  Pathros,  in  Egypt, 
and  of  their  base  idolatry ;  in  all  which 
their  husbands  had  encouraged  them : 
the  women,  in  their  expostulation  upon 
his  rebuke,  tell  him,  *  Did  we  make  her 
cakes  to  worship  her?'&c.  Jer.  xliv.  18, 
19.  Ib.  vii.  18.*" 


Irish  Custom. 

In  the  midland  districts  of  Ireland,  viz. 
the  province  of  Connaught,  on  Good 
Friday,  it  is  a  common  practice  with  the 
lower  orders  of  Irish  catholics  to  prevent 
their  young  from  having  any  sustenance, 
even  to  those  at  the  breast,  from  twelve 
on  the  previous  night  to  twelve  on  Friday 
night,  and  the  fathers  and  mothers  will 
only  take  a  small  piece  of  dry  bread  and 
a  draught  of  water  during  the  day.  It  is 
a  common  sight  to  see  along  the  roads 
between  the  different  market  towns,  num- 
bers of  women  with  their  hair  dishevelled, 
barefooted,  and  in  their  worst  garments  ; 
all  this  is  in  imitation  of  Christ's  passion  .f 

In  Ireland,  as  a  catholic  country,  ex- 
cessive attention  prevails  to  the  remark- 
able instances  in  the  passion  of  Christ, 
which  terminated  in  the  crucifixion ;  and 
a  revelation  from  Christ  himself,  to  three 
nuns  canonized  by  the  Romish  church, 
has  been  devised  to  heighten  the  fervour 
of  the  ignorant.  The  Irish  journals  of 
mo,  contain  the  copy  of  a  singular 
paper  said  to  have  been  sold  to  devotees 
at  a  high  price,  viz. 

H 


I 
HOLY  — 


S 

—  JUBILEE,  1770. 


''This  revelation  was  made  by  themouth 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  those  three 
saints,  viz.  St.  Elizabeth,  St.  Clare,  and 


*  Bryanf  a  Analysis, 
t  Communicated  by  T.  A. 


passion  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ. 

"  First,  I  received  30  cuffs  ;  2dly,  when 
I  was  apprehended  in  the  garden,  I  re- 
ceived 40  blows:  3dly,   I  journeying  to 
Annas's  house,  got  7  falls  :  4thly,  they 
gave  me  444  blows  of  whips  upon   my 
shoulders  :  5thly,  they  raised  me  up  from 
the  ground,  by  the  hair  of  the  head,  330 
times  :    Gthly,   they  gave    me  30    blows 
against  my  teeth :  7thly,  I  have  breathed 
8888  sighs:  8thly,  they  drew  me  by  my 
beard  35   times:  9thly,   I   received  one 
mortal  wound  at   the  foot  of  the  cross : 
10th,  666   blows  they  gave  me  when  I 
was  bound  to  the  pillar  of  stone  :   llth, 
they  set  a  crown  of  thorns  upon  my  head  : 
12th,  they  have   spitted  at  me  63  times  : 
13th,  the  soldiers  gave  me  88  blows  of 
whips :    14th,   they   gave    me   gall    and 
vinegar  to  drink  :  15th,  when  I"  hanged 
on  the  cross  I  received  five  mortal  wounds. 
"  All  men  or  women  that  will  say  seven 
paters,  seven  aves,  and  a  creed  daily,  in 
honour  of  the  blessed  passion  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  for  the  space  of 
15  years,  they  shall  obtain  five  graces  : 
first,  they  shall  receive  plenary  indulgence 
and  remission  of  their   sins ;  2dly,  they 
will  not   suffer  the  pains  of  purgatory; 
3dly,  if  it  happen  that  they  die  before  15 
years  be  ended,  they  shall  obtain  grace  as 
well  as  if  they  had    suffered  martyrdom  ; 
4thly,  in  point  of  death,  I  will  not  come 
myself  alone,  to  receive  his  own  soul,  but 
also  his  parents,  if  they  be  in  purgatory; 
finally,  I  will  convert  them  into  everlast- 
ing bliss. 

"  This  revelation  hath  those  virtues,  that 
whosoever  shall  carry  it  about  him,  shall 
be  free  from  his  enemies,  neither  will  he 
die  of  any  sudden  d  eath ;  and  if  there  be 
any  woman  with  child,  that  carry  this 
revelation  about  her,  she  shall  feel  no  pain 
in  child-birth ;  and  in  whatsoever  part  of 
the  house  this  revelation  shall  lye,  it  shall 
not  be  infected  with  any  contagious  dis- 
eases, or  any  other  evil :  and  whosoever 
shall  carry  it  about  him,  the  glorious  vir- 
gin Mary  will  show  herself  to  him  46  days 
before  his  death." 

H 


413 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  24. 


414 


The  custom  of  preaching  at  St.  Paul's 
cross  on  Good  Friday  and  other  holidays, 
and  some  account  of  the  cross  itself  is 
communicated  in  the  following  letter  of  a 
correspondent,  who  will  be  recognised  by 
his  initials  to  have  been  a  contributor  of 
former  interesting  articles. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Kennington,  March  10,   1826. 

Sir, — The  following  account  of  a  ser- 
mon, annually  preached  on  Good  Friday 
at  St.  Paul's  cross,  with  a  brief  notice  of 
that  structure,  will  I  hope  be  considered 
worthy  preservation  in  your  valuable  mis- 
cellany. 

It  was,  for  a  considerable  period,  a  cus- 
tom on  Good  Friday  in  the  afternoon,  for 
some  learned  man,  by  appointment  of 
the  bishop,  to  preach  a  sermon  at  Paul's 
cross,  which  was  situated  in  the  midst  of 
the  churchyard  on  the  north  side  towards 
the  east  end.  The  sermon  generally 
treated  of  Christ's  passion  ;  and  upon  the 
ensuing  Monday,  Tuesday,  and  Wednes- 
day in  Easter  week,  other  learned  men 
used  to  preach  in  a  similar  pulpit,  at  the 
Spital,  now  the  Old  Artillery  Ground, 
Spitalfields ;  the  subject  of  their  discourse 
was  the  articles  of  Christ's  resurrection. 
Then,  on  Low  Sunday,  another  divine  was 
at  Paul's  cross,  to  make  a  rehearsal  of  the 
four  former  sermons,  either  commending 
or  disproving  them  as  in  his  judgment  he 
thought  fit ;  all  this  done,  (which  by  the 
by  was  no  easy  task,)  he  was  to  make  a 
sermon  himself,  which  in  all  were  five 
sermons  in  one.  At  these  sermons,  so 
severally  preached,  the  mayor,  with  his 
brethren  the  aldermen,were  accustomed  to 
be  present  in  their  "  violets,"  at  St.  Paul's 
on  Good  Friday,  and  in  their  "  scarlets," 
both  they  and  their  ladies,  at  the  Spital, 
in  the  holidays,  except  Wednesday  in 
violet;  and  the  mayor,  with  his  brethren, 
on  Low  Sunday,  in  scarlet,  at  Paul's  cross. 
Since  the  Restoration  these  sermons  were 
continued,  by  the  name  of  the  Spital  ser- 
mons, at  St.  Bride's,  with  the  like  so- 
lemnity, on  Easter  Monday,  Tuesday, 
and  Wednesday,  every  year. 

Respecting  the  antiquity  of  this  custom, 
I  learn  from  Maitland,  that,  in  the  year 
1398,  king  Richard  having  procured  from 
Rome  confirmation  of  such  statutes  and 
ordinances  as  were  made  in  the  parlia- 
ment begun  at  Westminster  and  ended  at 
Shrewsbury,  he  caused  the  same  confirma- 
tion to  be  read  and  pronounced  at  Paul's 
cross,  and  at  St.  Maty,  Spital,  in  the  ser- 
mons before  all  the  people.  Philip  Mai- 


pas,  one  of  the  sheriffs,  in  the  year  1439, 
the  eighteenth  of  Henry  VII.,  gave  twenty 
shillings  a  year  to  the  three  preachers  at 
the  Spital.  Stephen  Foster,  mayor,  in  the 
year  1454,  gave  forty  shillings  to  the 
preachers  of  Paul's  cross  and  Spital.  Op- 
posite the  pulpit  at  the  Spital,  was  a 
handsome  house  of  two  stories  high,  for 
the  mayor,  aldermen,  sheriffs,  and  other 
persons  of  distinction,  to  sit  in,  to  hear 
the  sermons  preached  in  the  Easter  holi- 
days ;  in  the  part  above,  stood  the  bishop 
of  London  and  other  prelates. 

In  foul  and  rainy  weather,  these  solemn 
sermons  were  preached  in  a  place  called 
the  shrowds,  which  was  by  the  side  of 
the  cathedral  church  under  covering,  but 
open  in  front. — Ellis's  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral, p.  52. 

For  the  maintenance  of  these  St.  Paul's 
cross  sermons,  many  of  the  citizens  were 
liberal  benefactors ;  as  Aylmer,  bishop  of 
London,  the  countess  dowager  of  Shrews- 
bury, Thomas  Russell,  George  Bishop, 
who  gave  ten  pounds  a  year,  &c. ;  and  for 
further  encouragement  of  those  preachers, 
in  the  year  1607,  the  lord  mayor  and 
court  of  aldermen  then  ordered,  "  that 
every  one  that  should  preach  there,  con- 
sidering the  journies  some  of  them  might 
lake  from  the  universities,  or  elsewhere, 
should  at  his  pleasure  be  freely  enter- 
tained, for  five  days  space,  with  sweet  and 
convenient  lodging,  fire,  candle,  and  all 
other  necessaries,  viz.  from  Thursday  be- 
fore their  day  of  preaching,  to  Thursday 
morning  following."  This  provision  had 
a  good  effect,  and  the  custom  continued 
for  some  time,  added  to  which  the  bishop 
of  London,  or  his  chaplain,  when  he 
sent  to  any  one  to  preach,  signified  the 
place  whither  he  might  sojourn  at  his 
coming  up,  and  be  entertained  freely. 
Towards  this  charge  of  the  city,  George 
Palin,  a  merchant  of  London,  gave  two 
hundred  pounds  to  defray  expenses. 

At  some  future  time  a  few  observations 
on  crosses  will  be  introduced  ;  at  present 
I  shall  confine  myself  to  the  history  of  St 
Paul's  cross,  which  was  used,  not  only 
for  the  instruction  of  mankind  by  the 
doctrine  of  the  preacher,  but  for  every 
purpose,  political  or  ecclesiastical;  for 
giving  force  to  oaths ;  for  promulgating 
laws;  or  rather,  the  royal  pleasure ;  for 
the  emission  of  papal  bulls ;  for  anathe- 
matizing sinners;  for  benedictions;  for 
exposing  penitents  under  censure  of  the 
church ;  for  recantations  ;  for  the  private 
ends  of  the  ambitious  ;  and  for  defaming 


415 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  24. 


416 


those  who  had  incurred  the  displeasure 
of  the  crown.  Pennant,  4to.  394. 

To  enter  minutely  into  all  the  events 


and  difficulty,  added  to  which,  space 
could  not  be  well  spared  in  a  work  o< 
the  present  nature.  I  shall  therefore 


connected  with  the  history  of  this  cross     only  notice  some  of  the  most  remarkable 
would  be  a  work  of  considerable  labour     that  occur  in  history. 


£>*rmim  at 


This  cross  was  strongly  built  of  timber, 
mounted  upon  steps  of  stone,  and  covered 
with  lead.  The  earliest  mention  of 
it  occurs  in  the  year  1259,  when  king 
Henry  III.  commanded  a  general  assem- 
bly to  be  made  at  the  cross,  where  he  in 
person  commanded  the  mayor  that  on  the 
morrow  he  should  cause  to  be  sworn  be- 
fore the  alderman,  every  youth  of  twelve 
years  of  age  or  upward,  to  be  true  to  the 
king  and  his  heirs  kings  of  England.  In 
the  same  year  Henry  III.  caused  to  be 
read  at  this  cross  a  bull  obtained  from 
pope  Urban  IV.  as  an  absolution  for  him 
and  for  all  that  were  sworn  to  maintain 
the  articles  made  in  the  parliament  at 
Oxford.  In  the  year  1299,  the  dean  of 


St.  Paul's  cursed  at  the  cross  all  those 
which  had  searched  in  the  church  of  St. 
Martin  in  the  Fields  for  a  hoard  of  gold, 
&c. 

This  pulpit  cross  was   by  tempest  of 
lightning   and   thunder,    much    defaced 
Thomas  Kempe,  bishop  of  London,  from 
28  Hen.  VI.  to  5  Hen.  VII.,  new  built 
the  pulpit  and  cross. 

The  following  is  curious  : — 

"On  the  8th  day  of  March,  1555, 
while  a  doctor  preached  at  the  cross,  a 
man  did  penance  for  transgressing  Lent, 
holding  two  pigs  ready  drest,  whereof 
one  was  upon  his  head,  having  brought 
them  to  sell."—  [Strypes  Ecclesiastical 
Memorials.} 


417 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  24. 


413 


Before  this  cross,  in  1483,  was  brought, 
divested  of  all  her  splendour,  Jane  Shore, 
the  charitable,  the  merry  concubine  of 
Edward  IV.,  and  after  his  death,  of  his 
favourite  the  unfortunate  lord  Hastings. 
After  the  loss  of  her  protectors,  she  fell  a 
victim  to  the  malice  of  the  crook-backed 
tyrant  Richard  III.  He  was  disappointed 
(by  her  excellent  defence)  of  convicting 
her  of  witchcraft,  and  confederating  with 
her  lover  to  destroy  him.  He  then  at- 
tacked her  on  the  side  of  frailty.  This 
was  undeniable.  He  consigned  her  to 
the  severity  of  the  church :  she  was 
carried  to  the  bishop's  palace,  clothed  in 
a  white  sheet,  with  a  taper  in  her  hand, 
and  from  thence  conducted  to  the  cathe- 
dral, and  the  cross,  before  which  she  made 
a  confession  of  her  only  fault.  "  In  her 
penance  she  went,"  says  Holinshed,  "  in 
countenance  and  pase  demure,  so  wo- 
manlie,  that  albeit  she  were  out  of  all 
araie,  save  her  kiitle  onlie,  yet  went  she 
so  faire  and  lovelie,  namelie,  while  the 
woondering  of  the  people  cast  a  cbmelie 
rud  in  hir  cheeks  (of  whiche  she  before 
had  most  misse),  that  hir  great  shame 
was  hir  much  praise  among  those  that 
were  more  amorous  of  hir  bodie  than 
curious  of  hir  soule.  And  manie  good 
folkes  that  hated  hir  living  (and  glad 
were  to  see  sin  corrected),  yet  pitied  they 
more  hir  penance  than  rejoised  therin, 
when  they  considered  that  the  Protector 
procured  it  more  of  a  corrupt  intent,  than 
anie  virtuous  affection."  —  \_Hardyng 's 
Chron.  4to.  Lond.  1812.  p.  499.]  She 
lived  to  a  great  age,  but  in  great  distress 
and  poverty ;  deserted  even  by  those  to 
whom  she  had,  during  prosperity,  done 
the  most  essential  services. 

In  1538,  "  The  24th  of  February  being 
Sunday,  the  Rood  of  Boxeley,  in  Kent, 
called  the  *  Rood  of  Grace,'  made  with 
divers  vices,  to  move  the  eyes  and  lips, 
was  shewed  at  Pawle's  Cross  by  the 
preacher,  which  was  the  bishop  of  Ro- 
chester, and  there  it  was  broken  and 
plucked  to  pieces."  —  [Stow's  Annals, 
p.  575.] 

"On  the  17th  of  November,  1595,  a 
day  of  great  triumph  for  the  long  and 
prosperous  raigne  of  her  majestic  (queen 
Elizabeth)  at  London,  the  pulpit  crosse  in 
Pawle's  churchyard  was  new  repayred, 
painted,  and  partly  inclosed  with  a  wal 
of  bricke :  Doctour  Fletcher,  bishop  of 
London,  preached  there  in  prayse  of  the 
queene,  and  prayer  for  her  majestie,  be- 
fore the  lord  mayor,  aldermen,  and  citi- 

VOL.  II.— 66. 


zens,  in  their  best  liveries.  Which  sermon 
being  ended,  upon  the  church  leades 
the  trumpets  sounded,  the  cornets  winded, 
and  the  quiristers  sung  an  antheme.  On 
the  steeple  many  lights  were  burned  :  the 
Tower  shot  off  her  ordinance,  the  bels 
were  rung,  bonefires  made,"  &c. — [Stow'* 
Annals,  p.  770.] 

Pennant  says,  the  last  sermon  which 
was  preached  at  this  place  was  before 
James  I.,  who  came  in  great  state  from 
Whitehall,  on  Midlent  Sunday,  1620  ; 
but  Mr.  Ellis,  the  learned  and  inde- 
fatigable editor  of  the  new  edition  of 
Dugdale's  "  History  of  St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral," says,  there  is  a  sermon  in  print, 
entitled,  "  The  White  Wolfe,  preached  at 
Paul's  Crosse,  February  11,  1627;"  and 
according  to  the  continuator  of  "  Stow's 
Annals,"  Charles  I.,  on  the  30th  of  May, 
1630,  having  attended  divine  service  in 
the  cathedral,  »'  went  into  a  roome,  and 
heard  the  sermon  at  Paule's  Crosse." — 
[Stow's  Annals,  p.  1045.] 

Thus  this  cross  stood  till  it  was  demo- 
lished, in  1643,  by  order  of  parliament, 
executed  by  the  willing  hands  of  Isaac 
Pennington,  the  fanatical  lord  mayor  of 
London  for  that  year,  who  died  in  the 
Tower  a  convicted  regicide. 

The  engraving  at  the  head  of  this  arti- 
cle is  from  a  drawing  in  the  Pepysian 
library,  and  appears  to  have  been  the 
same  that  was  erected  circa  1450. 

There  is  a  large  painting  of  this  cross 
as  it  appeared  on  Sunday,  26th  of  March, 
1620,  when  king  James  I.,  his  queen, 
Charles,  prince  of  Wales,  Jhe  archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  &c.  attended  with  their 
court.  It  has  been  engraved  in  Wilkin- 
son's "  Londina  Illustrata." 

I  am,  Sir,  &c.  &c. 

T.  A. 

Good  Friday  at  Lisbon. 
To  a  protestant,  the  observance  of  this 
holiday  in  catholic  countries  is  especially 
remarkable.  In  1768,  the  late  rev. 
George Whitefield  published  "An Account 
of  some  Lent  and  other  Extraordinary 
Processions  and  Ecclesiastical  Entertain- 
ments seen  at  Lisbon ;  in  four  Letters  to 
an  English  Friend."  Very  early  in  the 
morning  of  Good  Friday,  he  had  gone  on 
board  a  vessel  at  Bellem  for  the  purpose 
of  sailing,  but  the  wind  dying  away  he 
returned  ashore.  "  But  how  was  the 
scene  changed !  Before,  all  used  to  be 
noise  and  hurry  ;  now  all  was  hxished  and 
shut  up  in  the  most  awful  and  profound 


419 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK MARCH  24 


420 


silence.  No  clock  or  bell  had  been  heard 
since  yesterday  noon,  and  scarce  a  person 
was  to  be  seen  in  the  street  all  the  way 
to  Lisbon.  About  two  in  the  afternoon 
we  got  to  the  place  where  (I  had  heard 
some  days  ago)  an  extraordinary  scene 
was  to  be  exhibited  :  it  was  '  the  cruci- 
fixion of  the  Son  of  God,  represented 
partly  by  dumb  images,  and  partly  by 
living  persons,  in  a  large  church  belonging 
to  the  convent  of  St.  De  Beato.'  Several 
thousands  crowded  into  it,  some  of  which, 
as  I  was  told,  had  been  waiting  there  ever 
since  six  in  the  morning.  I  was  admitted, 
and  very  commodiously  situated  to  view 
the  whole  performance.  We  had  not  waited 
long  before  the  curtain  was  drawn  up. 
Immediately,  upon  a  high  scaffold,  hung 
in  the  front  with  black  baize,  and  behind 
with  silk  purple  damask  laced  with  gold, 
was  exhibited  to  our  view  an  image  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  at  full  length,  crowned  with 
thorns,  and  nailed  on  a  cross,  between 
two  figures  of  like  dimensions,  represent- 
ing the  two  thieves.  At  a  little  distance 
on  the  right  hand  was  placed  an  image  of 
the  virgin  Mary,  in  plain  long  ruffles, 
and  a  kind  of  widow's  weeds.  The  veil 
was  purple  silk,  and  she  had  a  wire  glory 
round  her  head.  At  the  foot  of  the  cross 
lay,  in  a  mournful  pensive  posture,  a 
living  man  dressed  in  woman's  clothes, 
who  personated  Mary  Magdalen ;  and 
not  far  off  stood  a  young  man,  in  imitation 
of  the  beloved  disciple.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  loose  green  silk  vesture  and  bob-wig. 
His  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  cross,  and  his 
two  hands  a  little  extended.  On  each 
side,  near  the  front  of  the  stage,  stood 
two  sentinels  in  buff,  with  formidable 
caps  and  long  beards;  and  directly  in 
the  front  stood  another  yet  more  for- 
midable, with  a  large  target  in  his  hand. 
We  may  suppose  him  to  be  the  Roman 
centurion.  To  complete  the  scene,  from 
behind  the  purple  hangings  came  out 
about  twenty  little  purple-vested  winged 
boys,  two  by  two,  each  bearing  a  lighted 
wax  taper  in  his  hand,  and  having  a  crim- 
son and  gold  cap  on  his  head.  At  their 
entrance  upon  the  stage,  they  gently 
bowed  their  heads  to  the  spectators,  then 
kneeled  and  made  obeisance,  first  to  the 
image  on  the  cross,  and  then  to  that  of  the 
virgin  Mary.  When  risen,  they  bowed 
to  each  other,  and  then  took  their  re- 
spective places  over  against  one  another, 
on  steps  assigned  for  them  on  the  front  of 
the  stage.  Opposite  to  this,  at  a  few 
Cards'  distance,  stood  a  black  friar  in  a 


pulpit  hung  with  mourning.  For  a 
while  he  paused,  and  then  breaking 
silence,  gradually  raised  his  voice  till  it 
was  extended  to  a  pretty  high  pitch, 
though  I  think  scarcely  high  enough  for 
so  large  an  auditory.  After  he  had  pro- 
ceeded in  his  discourse  about  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  a  confused  noise  was  heard 
near  the  great  front  door;  and  turning 
my  head,  I  saw  four  long-bearded  men, 
two  of  whom  carried  a  ladder  on  their 
shoulders ;  and  after  them  followed  two 
more,  with  large  gilt  dishes  in  their 
hands,  full  of  linen,  spices,  &c. ;  these, 
as  I  imagined,  were  the  representatives  of 
Nicodemus  and  Joseph  of  Arimatlian, 
On  a  signal  given  from  the  pulpit,  they 
advanced  towards  the  steps  of  the  scaf- 
fold ;  but,  upon  their  first  attempting  to 
mount  it,  at  the  watchful  centurion's  nod, 
the  observant  soldiers  nade  a  pass  at 
them,  and  presented  1*2  points  of  their 
javelins  directly  to  their  breasts.  They 
are  repulsed.  Upon  this,  a  letter  from 
Pilate  is  produced.  The  centurion  reads 
it,  shakes  his  head,  and  with  looks  that 
bespoke  a  forced  compliance,  beckons  the 
sentinels  to  withdraw  their  arms.  Leave 
being  thus  obtained,  they  ascend;  and 
having  paid  their  homage  by  kneeling 
first  to  the  image  on  the  cross  and  then  to 
the  virgin  Mary,  they  retired  to  the  back 
of  the  stage.  Still  the  preacher  continued 
declaiming,  or  rather,  as  was  said,  ex- 
plaining the  mournful  scene.  Magdalen 
persists  in  wringing  her  hands,  and 
variously  expressing  her  personated  sor- 
row ;  while  John  (seemingly  regardless  of 
all  besides)  stood  gazing  on  the  crucified 
figure.  By  this  time  it  was  nearly  three 
o'clock,  and  the  scene  was  drawing  to  a 
close.  The  ladders  are  ascended,  the 
superscription  and  crown  of  thorns  taken 
off;  long  white  rollers  put  round  the 
arms  of  the  image;  and  then  the  nails 
knocked  out  which  fastened  the  hands 
and  feet.  Here  Mary  Magdalen  looks 
most  languishing,  and  John,  if  possible, 
stands  more  thunderstruck  than  before. 
The  orator  lifts  up  his  voice,  and  almost 
all  the  hearers  expressed  their  concern  by 
weeping,  beating  their  breasts,  and 
smiting  their  cheeks.  At  length  the  body 
is  gently  let  down ;  Magdalen  eyes  it, 
and  gradually  rising,  receives  the  feet 
into  her  wide  spread  handkerchief;  while 
John  (who  hitherto  had  stood  motionless 
like  a  statue),  as  the  body  came  nearer 
the  ground,  with  an  eagerness  that  be- 
spoke the  intense  affection  of  a  sym- 


1HE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  24. 


422 


pathizing  friend,  runs  towards  the  cross, 
seizes  the  upper  part  of  it  into  his  clasp- 
ing arms,  and,  with  his  disguised  fellow- 


here  the  play  should  end,  was  I  not  afraid 
that  you  would  be  angry  with  me  if  I 
did  not  give  you  an  account  of  the  last 
act,  by  telling  you  what  became  of  the 
corpse  after  it  was  taken  down.     Great 
preparations  were  made  for  its  interment. 
It  was  wrapped  in  linen  and  spices,  &c. 
and  being  laid  upon  a  bier  richly  hung, 
was   carried    round   the    churchyard    in 
grand   procession.      The    image  of   the 
virgin  Mary   was   chief  mourner;     and 
John  and  Magdalen,  with  a  whole  troop 
of  friars  with  wax  tapers  in  their  hands, 
followed      Determined  to  see  the  whole, 
I   waited   its   return,    and    in    about  a 
quarter    of    an     hour    the   corpse    was 
brought  in,   and  deposited  in   an  open 
sepulchre  prepared  for  the  purpose ;  but 
not   before    a   priest,    accompanied    by 
several  of  the   same  order,  in  splendid 
vestments,  had  perfumed  it  with  incense, 
sang  to,  and  kneeled  before  it.    John  and 
Magdalen  attended  the  obsequies,  but  the 
image  of  the   virgin   Mary   was  carried 
away,   and   placed  in   the   front  of  the 
stage,  in  order  to  be  kissed,  adored,  and 
worshipped   by  the   people.      And  thus 
ends    this  Good    Friday  s  tragi-comical, 
superstitious,  idolatrous  droll.    I  am  well 
aware  that  the  Romanists  deny  the  charge 
of  idolatry  ;  but  after  having  seen  what  I 
have  seen  this  day,  as  well  as  at  sundry 
other  times  since  my  arrival  here,  I  can- 
not help  thinking  but  a  person  must  be 
capable  of  making  more  than  metaphy- 
sical distinctions,  and  deal  in  very  ab- 
stract ideas  indeed,  fairly  to  evade  the 
charge." 

Good  Friday  at  Seville. 
The  rev.  Blanco  White  relates  the  cele- 
bration of  the  day  at  Seville  in  the  follow- 
ing terms : — 

The  altars,  which,  at  the  end  of  yes- 
terday's mass,  were  publicly  and  solemnly 
stripped  of  their  clothes  and  rich  table- 
hangings  by  the  hands  of  the  priest, 
appear  in  the  same  state  of  distressed 
negligence.  No  musical  sound  is  heard, 
except  the  deep-toned  voices  of  the  psalm, 
or  plain  chant  singers.  After  a  few  pre- 
paratory prayers,  and  the  dramatized 


crosses,  has  for  the  last  two  weeks  of 
Lent  been  covered  with  a  purple  veil,  and 
standing  towards  the  people,  before  the 

mourner,  helps  to  bear  it  away.      And    middle  of  the  altar,  gradually  uncovers 

the  sacred  emblem,  which  both  the  clergy 
and  laity  worship  upon  their  knees.     The 
prelate  is  then  unshod  by   the  assistant 
ministers,  and  taking  the  cross  upon  his 
right  shoulder,  as  our  saviour   is  repre- 
sented by  painters  on  his  way  to  Calvary, 
he  walks  alone  from  the  altar  to  the  en- 
trance of  the  presbytery  or  chancel,  and 
lays  his  burden  upon  two  cushions.  After 
this,  he    moves  back   some    steps,   and 
approaching  the  cross  with  three  prostra- 
tions, kisses  it,  and  drops  an  oblation  of 
a  piece  of  silver  into  a  silver  dish.     The 
whole  chapter,  ha.ving  gone  through  the 
same  ceremony,  form  themselves  in  two 
lines,  and  repair  to  the  monument,  from 
whence  the  officiating  priest  conveys  the 
deposited  host  to  the  altar,  where  he  com- 
municates upon  it  without  consecrating 
any  wine.     Here  the  service  terminates 
abruptly ;    all   candles    and    lamps    are 
extinguished ;  and  the  tabernacle,  which 
throughout  the  year  contains  the  sacred 
wafers,  being  left  open,  every  object  be- 
speaks the  desolate  and  widowed  state  of 
the  church  from  the  death  of  the  saviour 
to  his  resurrection. 

The  ceremonies  of  Good  Friday  being 
short,  and  performed  at  an  early  hour, 
both  the  gay  and  the  devout  would  be  at 
a  loss  how  to  spend  the  remainder  of  the 
day  but  for  the  grotesque  passion  sermons 
of  the  suburbs  and  neighbouring  villages, 
and  the  more  solemn  performance  known 
by  the  name  of  Tres  Horas, — three  hours. 
The  practice  of  continuing  in  medita- 
tion from  twelve  to  three  o'clock  of  this 
day, — the  time  which  our  saviour  is  sup- 
posed to  have  hung  on  the  cross, — was 
introduced  by  the  Spanish  Jesuits,  and 
partakes  of  the  impressive  character  which 
the  members  of  that  order  had  the  art  to 
impart  to  the  religious  practices  by  which 
they  cherished  the  devotional  spirit  of 
the  people.  The  church  where  the  three 
hours  are  kept  is  generally  hung  in  black, 
and  made  impervious  to  daylight.  A 
large  crucifix  is  seen  on  the  high  altar, 
under  a  black  canopy,  with  six  unbleached 
wax  candles,  which  cast  a  sombre  glim- 

„     t     .,      ,  mering  on  the  rest  of  the  church.     The 

history  of  the  passion,  already  described,  females  of  all  ranks  occupy,  as  usual,  the 
the  officiating  priest  (the  archbishop  at  centre  of  the  nave,  squatting  or  kneel- 
the  cathedral),  in  a  plain  albe  or  white  ing  on  the  matted  ground,  and  adding 
tunic,  takes  up  a  wooden  cross  six  or  to  the  dismal  appearance  of  the  scene 
seven  feet  high,  which,  like  all  other  by  the  colour  of  their  veils  and  dresses 


423 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— MARCH  24. 


424 


Just  as  the  clock  strikes  twelve,  a 
priest  in  his  cloak  and  cassock  ascends 
the  pulpit,  and  delivers  a  preparatory 
address  of  his  own  composition.  He 
then  reads  the  printed  meditations  on  the 
seven  words,  or  sentences,  spoken  by 
jesus  on  the  cross,  allotting  to  each  such 
a  portion  of  time  a-?  that,  with  the  inter- 
ludes of  music  which  follow  each  of  the 
readings,  the  whole  may  not  exceed  three 
hours.  The  music  is  generally  good  and 
appropriate,  and  ifa  sufficient  band  can 
be  collected,  well  repays  to  an  amateur 
the  inconvenience  of  a  crowded  church, 
where,  from  the  want  cf  seats,  the  male 
part  of  the  congregation  are  obliged  either 
to  stand  or  kneel.  It  is,  in  fact,  one  of 
the  best  works  of  Haydn,  composed  a 
short  time  ago  for  some  gentlemen  of 
Cadiz,  who  showed  both  their  taste  and 
liberality  in  thus  procuring  this  master- 
piece of  harmony  for  the  use  of  their 
country.  It  has  been  lately  published  in 
Germany  under  the  title  of  the  "  Sette 
Parole/' 

Every  part  of  the  performance  is  so 
managed,  that  the  clock  strikes  three 
about  the  end  of  the  meditation,  on  the 
words,  It  is  finished.  The  picture  of  the 
expiring  saviour,  powerfully  drawn  by 
the  original  writer  of  the  Tres  Horas,  can 
hardly  fail  to  strike  the  imagination  when 
listened  to  under  the  influence  of  such 
music  and  scenery ;  and  when,  at  the 
first  stroke  of  the  clock,  the  priest  rises 
from  his  seat,  and  in  a  loud  and  impas- 
sioned voice,  announces  the  consumma- 
tion of  the  awful  and  mysterious  sacrifice, 
on  whose  painful  and  bloody  progress 
the  mind  has  been  dwelling  so  long,  few 
hearts  can  repel  the  impression,  and  still 
fewer  eyes  can  conceal  it.  Tears  bathe 
every  cheek,  and  sobs  heave  every  female 
bosom.  After  a  parting  address  from  the 
pulpit,  the  ceremony  concludes  with  a 
piece  of  music,  where  the  powers  of  the 
great  composer  are  magnificently  dis- 
played in  the  imitation  of  the  disorder 
and  agitation  of  nature  which  the  evan- 
gelists relate. 

The  passion  sermons  for  the  populace 
might  be  taken  for  a  parody  of  the  three 
burs.  They  are  generally  delivered  in 
Jie  open  air,  by  friars  of  the  Mendicant 
orders,  in  those  parts  of  the  city  and 
suburbs  which  are  chiefly,  if  not  exclu- 
sively, inhabited  by  the  lower  classes. 
Such  gay  young  men,  however,  as  do  not 
scruple  to  relieve  the  dulness  of  Good 
Friday  with  a  ride,  and  feel  no  danger  of 


exposing  themselves  by  any  unseasonable 
laughter,  indulge  not  unfrequently  in  the 
frolic  of  attending  one  of  the  most  com- 
plete and  perfect  seimons  of  this  kind  at 
the  neighbouring  village  of  Castilleja. 

A  movable  pulpit  is  placed  before  the 
church  door,  from  which  a  friar,  possessed 
of  a  stentorian  voice,  delivers  an  improved 
history  of  the  passion,  such  as  was  re- 
vealed to  St.  Bridget,  a  Franciscan  nun, 
who,  from  the  dictation  of  the  virgin 
Mary,  has  left  us  a  most  minute  and  cir- 
cumstantial account  of  the  life  and  death 
of  Christ  and  his  mother.  This  yearly 
narrative,  however,  would  have  lost  most 
of  its  interest  but  for  the  scenic  illustra- 
tions, which  keep  up  the  expectation  and 
rivet  the  attention  of  the  audience.  It 
was  formerly  the  custom  to  introduce  a 
living  saint  Peter — a  character  which  be- 
longed by  a  natural  and  inalienable  right 
to  the  baldest  head  in  the  village — who 
acted  the  apostle's  denial,  swearing  by 
Christ,  he  did  not  know  the  man.  This 
edifying  part  of  the  performance  is  omitted 
at  Castilleja;  though  a  practised  performer 
crows  with  such  a  shrill  and  natural  note 
as  must  be  answered  with  challenge  by 
every  cock  of  spirit  in  the  neighbourhood. 
The  flourish  of  a  trumpet  announces,  in 
the  sequel,  the  publication  of  the  sentence 
passed  by  the  Roman  governor ;  and  the 
town  ciier  delivers  it  with  legal  precision, 
in  the  manner  it  is  practised  in  Spain  be- 
fore an  execution.  Hardly  has  the  last 
word  been  uttered,  when  the  preacher,  in 
a  frantic  passion,  gives  the  crier  the  lie 
direct,  cursing  the  tongue  that  has  uttered 
such  blasphemies.  He  then  invites  an 
angel  to  contradict  both  Pilate  and  the 
Jews  ;  when,  obedient  to  the  orator's  de- 
sire, a  boy  gaudily  dressed,  and  furnished 
with  a  pair  of  gilt  pasteboard  wings,  ap- 
pears at  a  window,  and  proclaims  the  true 
verdict  of  heaven.  Sometimes,  in  the 
course  of  the  preacher's  narrative,  an 
image  of  the  virgin  Mary  is  made  to 
meet  that  of  Christ,  on  his  way  to  Calvary, 
both  taking  an  affectionate  leave  in  the 
street.  The  appearance,  however,  of  the 
virgin  bearing  a  handkerchief  to  collect  a 
sum  for  her  son's  burial,  is  never  omitted; 
both  because  it  melts  the  whole  female 
audience  into  tears,  and  because  it  pro- 
duces a  good  collection  for  the  convent 
The  whole  is  closed  by  the  descendimiento, 
or  unnailing  a  crucifix,  as  large  as  life, 
from  the  cross,  an  operation  performed  by 
two  friars,  who,  in  the  character  of  Joseph 
of  Arimathea  and  Nicodemus,  are  seen 


425 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  24. 


with  ladders  and  carpenters'  tools  letting 
down  the  jointed  figure,  to  be  placed  on  a 
bier  and  carried  into  the  church  in  the 
form  of  a  funeral. 

I  have  carefully  glided  over  such 
parts  of  this  absurd  performance  as  would 
shock  many  an  English  reader,  even  in 
narrative.  Yet,  such  is  the  strange  mix- 
ture of  superstition  and  profaneness  in  the 
people  for  whose  gratification  these  scenes 
are  exhibited,  that,  though  any  attempt  to 
expose  the  indecency  of  these  shows  would 
rouse  their  zeal  "  to  the  knife,"  I  cannot 
venture  to  translate  the  jokes  and  sallies 
of  wit  that  are  frequently  heard  among 
the  Spanish  peasantry  upon  these  sacred 
topics.* 

Judas  is  a  particular  object  of  execration 
on  Good  Friday,  in  the  Spanish  and  Portu- 
guese navy.  An  eye-witness  relates  the 
following  occurrences  at  Monte  Video. 
"  The  three  last  days  had  been  kept  as 
days  of  sorrow ;  all  the  ships  in  the  har- 
bour expressed  it  by  having  their  colours 
hoisted  only  half-mast  high,  as  a  token  of 
mourning,  and  the  yards  crossed  as  much 
as  possible,  to  make  them  resemble  a  cru- 
cifix, while  apparent  solemnity  prevailed 
both  on  shore  and  in  the  harbour ;  but  im- 
mediately on  a  signal,  when  the  minute 
arrived,  all  being  in  waiting,  the  yards 
were  squared,  the  colours  hoisted  wholly 
up,  and  the  guns  fired  from  all  the  ships 
in  the  harbour,  while  the  bells  on  shore 
were  set  ringing  promiscuously,  as  fast  as 
possible;  and  at  the  bowsprit,  or  yard- 
arm  of  the  ships  was  suspended  an  effigy 
of  Judas,  which  they  began  to  dip  in  the 
river,  acting  with  the  greatest  possible  en- 
thusiasm and  ridiculous  madness,  beating 
it  on  the  shoulders*  dipping  it,  and  then 
renewing  their  former  ridiculous  con- 
duct.'^ 

Relics  of  the  Crucifixion. 
Sir  Thomas  More,  in  his  "  Dialogue 
concernynge  Heresyes,  1528,"  says,  u  Ye 
might  upon  Good  Friday,  every  yere  this 
two  hundred  yere,  till  within  this  five  yere 
that  the  turkes  have  taken  the  towne,  have 
sene  one  of  the  thornes  that  was  in  Cristes 
crowne,  bud  and  bring  forth  flowers  in  the 
service  time,  if  ye  would  have  gone  to 
Rodes."  The  printing  press  has  done 
more  mischief  to  miracles  of  this  sort 
than  the  Turks. 

Patience  seems  to  have  been  wearied  in 
supplying   rehcs   to  meet   the  enormous 

*  Doblado's  Letters. 
Gregory's  Journal  of  a  captured  Missionary. 


demand.  Invention  itself  became  ex- 
hausted; for  the  cravings  of  credulity  are 
insatiable.  If  angels  are  said  to  weep  at 
man's  "  fantastic  tricks  before  high  hea- 
ven," protestants  may  smile,  while,  per- 
haps, many  catholics  deplore  the  countless 
frauds  devised  by  Romish  priests  of 
knavish  minds,  for  cajoling  the  unwary 
and  the  ignorant.  "  The  greater  the 
miracle  the  greater  the  saint,"  has  been 
assuredly  a  belief;  and,  according  to  that 
belief,  the  greater  the  relics,  the  greater 
the  possessors  must  have  appeared,  in  the 
eyes  of  the  vulgar.  In  this  view  there  is 
no  difficulty  in  accounting  for  hordes  cf 
trumpery  in  shrines  and  reliquaries. 

The  instruments  of  the  crucifixion — the 
very  inscription  on  the  cross — the  crown 
of  thorns  —  the  nails — the  lance — are 
shown  to  the  present  hour,  as  the  true  in- 
scription, the  true  thorns,  the  true  nails, 
and  the  true  lance.  So  also  there  are 
exhibitions  of  the  true  blood,  yet  it  is  a 
printed  truth,  that  what  is  exposed  to  wor- 
shippers in  churches  by  ecclesiastics  for 
true  blood,  is  doubted  of  by  the  rev. 
Alban  Butler.  In  a  note  to  his  article  on 
"  The  Invention  of  the  Holy  Cross,"  he 
states  a  ground  for  his  incredulity,  quite 
as  singular  as  that  whereon  holders  of  the 
true  blood  maintain  their  faith.  His  words 
are  :  i<  The  blood  of  Christ,  which  is  kept 
in  some  places,  of  which  the  most  famous 
is  that  at  Mantua,  seems  to  be  what  has 
sometimes  issued  from  the  miraculous 
bleeding  of  some  crucifix,  when  pierced 
in  derision  by  Jews  or  Pagans,  instances 
of  which  are  recorded  in  authentic  his- 
tories.*'* Though,  as  a  catholic  priest  and 
biographer  well  acquainted  with  these 
"authentic  histories,"  Mr.  Butler  might 
have  set  them  forth,  yet  he  abstains  from 
the  disclosure ;  and  hence  on  their  superior 
credibility  in  his  eyes,  to  the  credibility  of 
the  declarations  and  testimonials  urged  by 
the  owners  of  the  blood  itself,  we  may 
choose  between  their  requisition  to  believe 
that  the  blood  is  the  true  blood,  and  Mr. 
Butler's  belief,  that  it  is  the  blood  of 
bleeding  crucifixes.  So  stands  the  ques- 
tion of  credibility. 

Concerning  the  alleged  implements  of 
the  crucifixion,  it  would  be  curious  to  ex- 
amine particulars ;  but  we  are  limited  in 
room,  and  shall  only  recur  to  one  — 

"  THE  HOLY  LANCE." 
Respecting  this  weapon,  reference  should 

*  Butler's    Lives   of  the   Saints,   (edit.   1795 ) 
vol.  v.  p.  47. 


427 


THE  EVERY- DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  24. 


428 


be  first  made  to  the  great  authority  cited 
above.  Mr.  Butler,  speaking  of  other  in- 
struments of  Christ's  crucifixion,  which 
he  maintains  to  be  genuine,  says  : — 

"  The  holy  lance  which  opened  his  sa- 
cred side,  is  kept  at  Rome,  but  wants  the 
point.  Andrew  of  Crete  says,  that  it  was 
buried,  together  with  the  cross.  At  least, 
St.  Gregory  of  Tours,  and  venerable  Bede, 
testify,  that,  in  their  time,  it  was  kept  at 
Jerusalem.  For  fear  of  the  Saracens  it 
was  buried  privately  at  Antioch  ;  in  which 
city  it  was  found,  in  1098,  under  ground, 
and  wrought  many  miracles,  as  Robert  the 
monk,  and  many  eye-witnesses,  testify.  It 
was  carried  first  to  Jerusalem,  and  soon 
after  to  Constantinople.  The  emperor, 
Baldwin  II.,  sent  the  point  of  it  to  Venice, 
by  way  of  pledge  for  a  loan  of  money. 
St.  Lewis,  king  of  France,  redeemed  this 
relick  by  paying  off  the  sum  it  lay  in 
pledge  for,  and  caused  it  to  be  conveyed 
to  Paris,  where  it  is  still  kept  in  the  holy 
chapel.  The  rest  of  the  lance  remained 
at  Constantinople,  after  the  Turks  had 
taken  that  city,  till,  in  1492,  the  sultan 
Bajazet  sent  it  by  an  ambassador,  in  a 
rich  and  beautiful  case,  to  pope  Innocent 
VIII.,  adding,  that  the  point  was  in  the 
possession  of  the  king  of  France." 

This  is  Mr.  Butler's  account  of  the 
"  holy  lance"  without  the  omission  of  a 
word,  which  should  be  recollected  for 
reasons  that  will  be  obvious. 

St.  Longinus. 

It  is  now  necessary  to  observe,  that 
there  is  not  any  account  of  this  saint  in 
Alban  Butler's  "Lives  of  the  Saints," 
though  (in  the  Breviar  Roman.  Antiq. 
1543)  the  15th  of  March  is  dedicated  to 
him  for  his  festival,  and  though  the  saint 
himself  is  declared,  in  the  Romish  bre- 
viary, to  have  been  the  Roman  soldier 
who  pierced  the  side  of  the  saviour  with 
the  lance  ;  and  that, "  being  almost  blind 
by  the  blood  which  fell,  it  is  supposed  on 
his  eyes,  he  immediately  recovered  his 
sight  and  believed;"  and  that,  further- 
more, "  forsaking  his  military  profession 
he  converted  many  to  the  faith,"  and  under 
the  president  Octavius  suffered  martyr- 
dom.* 

Cardinal  Vigerius. 

This  dignitary,  who  died  in  1516,  was 
bishop  of  Preeneste,  and  arch-priest  of  the 
Vatican  church.  He  wrote  a  book  to  prove 
that  Christ's  tunic  ought  to  give  place  to 

*  Bishop  Patrick's  Reflections. 


the  eminence  of  Longinus's  lance.  The 
occasion  of  the  work  unfolds  the  history 
of  the  holy  lance.  In  1488,  the  sultan 
Bajazet  II.,  being  in  fear  of  his  brother, 
who  had  become  prisoner  to  the  king  of 
France,  offered  that  sovereign,  if  he  would 
keep  his  brother  in  France,  all  the  relics 
which  his  late  father  Mahomet  had  found 
in  Constantinople  when  he  took  that  city. 
Bajazet's  letter  came  too  late ;  the  court 
of  France  had  already  promised  to  put 
his  brother  in  the  custody  of  Innocent 
VIII.  «  When  the  sultan  knew  this,  he 
wrote  to  the  pope,  and  endeavoured  to 
gain  him  by  presents,  and  amongst  others 
by  the  iron  of  the  lance  that  pierced  our 
saviour's  side,  which  he  had  before  offered 
to  the  grand  master,  and  assured  him  of 
the  punctual  payment  of  40,000  ducats 
every  year,  on  condition  that  he  would  not 
let  his  brother  go  upon  any  pretence  what- 
sover."  It  appears,  however,  that  Baja- 
zet retained  the  relic  called  the  "  seamless 
coat,"  and  that  this  gave  rise  to  a  great 
dispute  in  Italy,  as  to  whether  the  holy 
lance  presented  to  the  pope,  or  the  hohf 
coat,  which  Bajazet  reserved  for  himself, 
was  the  most  estimable ;  and  hence  it  was 
assigned  to  cardinal  Vigerius  to  make  it 
clear  that  the  pope  had  the  best  relic.  He 
executed  the  task  to  the  satisfaction  of 
those  who  contended  for  the  precedence 
of  the  lance.* 

THE  TRUE  LAHCE. 

Utrum  horum  ? 

Before  speaking  further  on  the  lance 
itself,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Alban 
Butler  has  told  us,  "  the  holy  lance  kept 
at  Rome  wants  the  point"  and  that  after 
various  adversities,  th«  point  was  "  con- 
veyed to  Paris,  where  it  is  still  kept  in  the 
holy  chapel."  But  Richard  Lassels,  who 
in  his  "  Voyage  of  Italy,  1670,"  visited 
the  church  of  St.  Peter's,  Rome,  says,  the 
the  cupola  of  that  church  rests  upon 
"  vast  square  pillars  a  hundred  and  twenty 
feet  in  compass,  and  capable  of  stairs 
within  them,  and  large  sacristyes  above 
for  the  holy  reliques  that  are  kept  in  them; 
to  wit — the  top  of  the  lance  wherewith 
our  saviour's  side  was  pierced — under  the 
top  of  the  lance  the  statue  of  Longinus." 
So  that  at  Rome,  where  according  to  Mr 
Butler,  the  "  holy  lance"  itself  is  kept,  he 
omits  to  mention  that  there  is  a  top  of  the 
lance,  besides  the  other  top  "  in  the  holy 
chapel"  at  Paris.  In  that  cathedral,  too, 

*  Bayle. 


429  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. —MARCH  84  4*0 

we  have  the  statue  of  St.  Longinus,  whom 
Mr.  Butler  also,  for  good  reasons  no  doubt, 
omits  to  mention  in  his  twelve  volumes  of 
*«  Lives  of  the  Saints." 

But  there  is  another  "  holy  lance."  It  is 
kept  in  the  church  of  the  hospital  of  Nu- 
remberg, with  the  crown  and  sceptre  and 
other  regalia  of  Charlemagne.  Misson 
so  particularly  distinguishes  it,  that  his 
account  shall  be  given  verbatim.  After 
mentioning  the  sword  of  Charlemaigne, 
which  its  keepers  pretend  "  was  brought 
by  an  angel  from  heaven  ;"  he  says,  "  they 
also  keep  many  relics  in  this  church ;  and 
among  others  St.  Longin's  lance."  There 
is  no  reason  to  doubt,  therefore,  that  the 
ecclesiastics  of  Nuremberg  deemed  Lon- 
ginus a  saint,  as  well  as  the  ecclesiastics 
of  St.  Peter's  at  Rome.  Misson  goes  on 
to  say,  "  They  are  not  ignorant  that  this 
pretended  lance  is  to  be  seen  in  above  ten 
other  places  of  the  world ;  but,  they  say, 
theirs  came  from  Antioch ;  it  was  St.  An- 
drew who  found  it ;  one  single  man  with 
it  discomfited  a  whole  army ;  it  was  the 
thing  of  the  world  which  Charlemaign 
loved  most.  The  other  lances  are  coun- 
terfeits, and  this  is  the  true  one."  It  is 
requisite  to  observe  Misson's  very  next 
words,  which,  though  they  do  not  seem 
connected  with  this  "  true  lance"  of  Nu- 
remberg, are  yet  connected  with  the  issue. 
He  proceeds  to  say,  "  They  have  also  an 
extraordinary  veneration  for  a  piece  of  the 
cross,  in  the  midst  of  which  there  is  a  hole 
that  was  made  by  one  of  the  nails.  They 
tell  us,  that  heretofore,  the  emperors  placed 
their  greatest  hopes  of  prosperity  and  suc- 
cess, both  in  peace  and  war,  in  the  posses- 
sion of  this  enlivening  wood,  with  the 
nail  arid  other  relics  that  are  kept  at  Nu- 
remberg." Misson  then  adds,  by  way  of 
note,  the  following 

List  of  these  ReUcs. 

The  lance. 

The  piece  of  the  wood  of  the  cross. 

One  of  the  nails. 

Five  thorns  of  the  crown  that  was  put 

on  Christ's  head. 
Part  of  the  chains  with  which  St.  Peter 

and  St.  Paul  were  bound  at  Rome. 
A  little  piece  of  the  manger. 
A  tooth  of  St.  John  Baptist. 
One  of  St.  Anne's  arms. 
The  towel  with  which  Christ  wiped  the 

feet  of  his  apostles. 
A   piece  of  St.  John  the  Evangelist's 

gown. 


431 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-MARCH  24. 


A  piece  from  the  table  cloth  which 
Christ  used  at  his  last  supper  with  his 
disciples. 

These  relics,  accompanying  Misson's 
account  of  the  "  true  lance  "  of  Nurem- 
berg, are  here  enumerated,  because  his 
statement  as  to  the  existence  of  the  lance, 
in  connection  with  those  relics,  is  cor- 
roborated by  a  rare  print,  sixteen  inches 
and  a  quarter  wide,  by  thirteen  inches 
high,  published  by  the  ecclesiastics  of 
Nuremberg,  in  the  possession  of  the  editor 
of  the  Every-Day  Book.  It  represents 
the  whole  of  these  relics  at  one  view,  ex- 
cept the  five  thorns.  The  true  lance,  being 
placed  in  the  print  angle-ways,  measures 
nineteen  inches  and  three  quarters,  from 
the  point  of  the  sheath  to  the  rim  of  the 
iron  shaft.  The  preceding  column  con- 


tains a  reduced  fac-simile  of  this  "  true' 
relic.  It  is  not  denied  that  the  "  holy 
lance"  at  Paris,  "  where  it  is  still  kept  in 
the  holy  chapel,"  is  also  "  true" — they  are 
without  a  shadow  of  doubt,  equally  "  true." 
See  Butler  and  Misson,  and  Misson  an<j 
Butler. 

By  the  by,  it  must  be  remembered,  that 
the  genuine  lantern  which  Judas  carried, 
was  also  "  kept  at  Rome,"  when  Missoo 
was  there ;  and  that,  at  the  same  time, 
Judas's  lantern  was  also  at  St.  Denis  in 
France — both  genuine.* 

Th§  romance  of  "  Spomydon,"  printed 
by  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  celebrates  the  ex- 
ploits of  Charlemagne,  for  the  recovery  or 
the  relics  of  the  passion  in  the  following 
lines : — 


fro  tyt  ftrt&en 

Cfte  spere  an&  naples  of  rrpstes 
also  tbe  rroum  of  t&oritf 
mang  a  rpdje  relpfee  mo 

of  tfmn  fyt  toanne  also 
fegllei  tfjem  euen  anlr  motm 


Pilate. 

There  is  a  tradition  at  Vienne,  that  in 
the  reign  of  the  emperor  Tiberius,  Pontius 
Pilate  was  exiled  to  that  city,  where  he 
died  not  long  after,  of  grief  and  despair, 
for  not  having  prevented  the  crucifixion  of 
the  saviour ;  and  his  body  was  thrown 
into  the  Rhone.  There  it  remained,  nei- 
ther carried  away  by  the  force  of  the  cur- 
rent, nor  consumed  by  decay,  for  five 
hundred  years  ;  until  the  town  being  af- 
flicted with  the  plague,  it  was  revealed  to 
the  then  archbishop,  in  a  vision,  that  the 
calamity  was  occasioned  by  Pilate's  body, 
which  unknown  to  the  good  people  of 
Vienne  was  lying  at  the  foot  of  a  certain 
tower.  The  place  was  accordingly  searched 
and  the  body  drawn  up  entire,  but  nothing 
could  equal  its  intolerable  odour.  Where- 
fore, it  was  carried  to  a  marsh  two  leagues 
from  the  town,  and  there  interred ;  but 
for  a  long  series  of  years  after,  strange 
noises  were  reported  by  certain  people  to 
issue  from  this  place  continually ;  these 
sounds  were  believed  to  be  the  groans  of 
Pontius  Pilate,  arid  the  cries  of  the  devils 
tormenting  him.  They  also  imagined,  the 
neighbourhood  of  his  body  to  be  the  cause 
of  violent  storms  of  thunder  and  lightning 
•which  are  frequent  at  Vienne ;  and  as  the 


tower,  where  the  body  was  found,  has 
been  several  times  struck  by  lightning,  it 
has  acquired  the  name  of  the  tower  of 
Mauconseil.-\- 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  subjoined  letter 
of  a  correspondent,  who  communicates  his 
name  to  the  editor,  that  remains  of  the 
ancient  disguises  are  still  to  be  seen  in  the 
proceedings  of  those  persons  in  this  coun- 
try, who,  towards  the  termination  of  the 
fast  of  Lent,  collect  materials  for  good  cheer 
to  make  an  Easter  festival.. 

PASTE  EGGS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Liverpool,  Good  Friday,  1826. 
Sir, — Having  been  much  entertained 
lately  by  your  accounts  of  "  festivals,  and 
fairs,  and  plays,"  I  am  induced  to  con- 
tribute, in  some  small  degree,  to  the  store 
of  amusement  in  your  interesting  every- 
day miscellany.  The  subject  on  which  [ 
am  to  treat,  is  a  custom  that  prevails  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  West  Derby,  on  this 
day ;  it  is  known  by  the  denomination  of 
"  paste  egging,"  and  is  practised  by  the 
humbler  classes  of  the  juvenile  peasantry. 

*   Misson's  Travels,  1714. 

\  Miss  Plumtree's  Residence. 


433 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  25. 


434 


The  parties  who  are  disposed  to  partake 
in  the  fun,  disguise  themselves  in  the  most 
fantastic  habiliments — such  as  clothes 
turned  inside  out,  with  strange  patches  on, 
some  with  masks,  veils,  ribbands,  &c. : 
some  with  faces  blacked,  and  (perhaps, 
your  fair  readers  may  not  excuse  me 
for  telling  them  that,)  even  the  females 
disguise  their  sex  1  Thus  equipped,  they 
betake  themselves  (in  numbers  of  from 
about  four,  to  a  dozen  of  both  sexes)  to  the 
different  farm-houses,  and  solicit  contri- 
butions towards  the  "  festival"  of  Easter 
Sunday.  The  beginning  of  my  tale  seems  to 
indicate  the  sort  of  gifts  that  are  expected ; 
these  gifts  are  generally  made  up  of 
great  numbers  of  eggs  and  oatmeal  cakes. 
One  of  the  party  usually  carries  a  basket 
for  the  cakes,  another  for  the  eggs,  and 
(as  our  best  feasts  can  scarcely  be  got  up 
without  a  portion  of  the  one  thing  need- 
ful,) a  third  is  the  bearer  of  a  small  box 
for  pecuniary  contributions. 


Conscious  of  the  charms  of  music,  they 
generally  exhilarate  their  benefactors  with 
some  animated  songs,  appropriate  to  the 
occasion,  and  sung  in  excellent  taste ;  and 
by  these  means  seldom  fail  to  return 
homeward  with  a  plentiful  supply  of  their 
"  paste  egg,"  and  no  trivial  aid  in  money. 
With  these  materials,  a  festival  is  got  up 
on  Easter  Sunday  evening.  The  different 
parties  meet  at  the  village  alehouse, 
where  "  Bacchus's  blisses  and  Venus's 
kisses,"  accompany  the  circling  bowl,  and 
associate  the  village  host  in  a  universal 
compact  of  mirth  and  merriment. 

I  cannot  discover  any  reasonable  ac- 
count of  the  origin  of  this  custom  ;  and 
must,  therefore,  Mr.  Editor,  subscribe 
myself,  your  faithful  servant, 

WILL.  HONEYCOMB. 


NATURALISTS      CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  43  •  27. 


25. 


Annunciation,  or  Lady  Day. 

QUARTER    DAY. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Relentless,  undelaying  quarter-day  ! 

Cold,  though  in  Summer,  cheerless,  though  in  Spring, 
In  Winter,  bleak  ;  in  Autumn,  withering  — 

No  quarter  dost  thou  give,  not  for  one  day, 

But  rent  and  tax  enforceth  us  to  pay  ; 
Or,  with  a  Barter-staff,  enters  our  dwelling, 
Thy  ruthless  minion,  our  small  chattels  selling, 

And  empty-handed  sending  us  away  !  — 

Thee  I  abhor,  although  I  lack  not  coin 

To  bribe  thy  "  itching  palm  :"  for  I  behold 

The  poor  and  needy  whom  sharp  hunger  gnawing 
Compels  to  flit,  on  darksome  night  and  cold, 

Leaving  dismantled  walls  to  meet  thy  claim  :  —  . 

Then  scorn  I  thee,  and  hold  them  free  from  blame  ! 


7  he  Last  Day  of  Lent. 
Lady  Morgan  describes  the  "sepul- 
chres," in  the  churches  of  Italy,  to  have 
been  watched  night  and  day  by  hundreds 
clad  in  deep  mourning  from  the  dawn  of 
Holy  Thursday  till  Saturday  at  mid -day, 
when  the  body  is  supposed  to  rise  from 
the  grave,  and  the  resurrection  is  an 
nounced  by  the  firing  of  cannon,  the 
blowing  of  trumpets,  and  the  ringing  of 
bells  which  from  the  preceding  Thursday 
had  been  carefully  tied  up  to  protect  them 
from  the  power  of  the  devil.  "  On  this 


day,  the  whole  foreign  population  of  Rome 
rolls  on,  in  endless  succession,  to  the  Va- 
tican. The  portico,  colonnades,  and  ves- 
tibules, both  of  the  church  and  palace, 
assume  the  air  of  the  court  of  a  military 
despot.  Every  epoch  in  the  military 
costume  is  there  gaudily  exhibited.  Hal- 
berdiersin  coats  of  mail,and  slate-coloured 
pantaloons,  which  pass  upon  the  faithful 
for  polished  steel  armour;  the  Swiss  in 
their  antique  dresses  of  buff  and  scarlet, 
and  lamberkeens ;  the  regular  troops  in 
their  modern  uniforms ;  the  guardla  nobilet 


435 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  35. 


436 


the  pope's  voltigeurs,  all  feathers  and  fee- 
bleness, gold  and  glitter ;  generals  of  the 
British  army,  colonels  and  subalterns  of 
every  possible  yeomanry,  with  captains 
and  admirals  of  the  navy,  and  a  host  of 
nondescripts,  laymen,  and  protestant 
clergymen,  who  'for  the  nonce'  take 
shelter  under  any  thing  resembling  an 
uniform,  that  may  serve  as  a. passe-partout, 
where  none  are  courteously  received  but 
such  as  wear  the  livery  of  church  or  state 
militant ; — all  move  towards  the  portals  of 
the  Sistine  chapel,  which,  with  their  dou- 
ble guards,  resemble  the  mouth  of  a  mili- 
tary pass,  dangerous  to  approach,  and 
difficult  to  storm,  The  ladies  press  with 
an  imprudent  impetuosity  npon  the 
guards,  who,  with  bayonets  fixed  and  el- 
bows squared,  repress  them  with  a  resist- 
ance, such  as  none  but  female  assailants 
would  dare  to  encounter  a  second  time. 
Thousands  of  tickets  of  admission  are 
shown  aloft  by  upraised  hands,  and  se- 
conded by  high-raised  voices ;  while  the 
officer  of  the  guard,  who  can  read  and 
tear  but  one  at  a  time,  leaves  the  task  of 
repulsion  to  the  Swiss,  who  manfully 
second  their  '  aUezfous  en'  with  a  physi- 
cal force,  that  in  one  or  two  instances 
incapacitated  the  eager  candidates  for 
further  application.  A  few  English  fa- 
voured by  the  minister,  and  all  the  princes 
and  diplomatists  resident  at  Rome,  pio- 
neered by  their  guards  of  honour,  make 
their  way  without  let  or  molestation.  One 
side  of  the  space,  separated  from  the  choir 
by  a  screen,  is  fitted  up  for  them  apart ; 
the  other  is  for  the  whole  female  congre- 
gation, who  are  crushed  in,  like  sheep  in 
a  fold.  The  men,  if  in  uniform  or  full 
court  dresses,  are  admitted  to  a  tribune 
within  the  choir  ;  while  the  inferior  crowd, 
left  to  shift  for  themselves,  rush  in  with 
an  impetuosity  none  can  resist ;  for  though 
none  are  admitted  at  all  to  the  chapel 
without  tickets,  yet  the  number  of  appli- 
cants (almost  exclusively  foreign)  is  much 
too  great  for  the  limited  capacity  of  the 
place.  A  scene  of  indescribable  confu- 
sion ensues.  The  guards  get  mingled 
with  the  multitude.  English  peers  are 
overturned  by  Roman  canons.  Irish  friars 
batter  the  old  armour  of  the  mailed  hal- 
berdiers with  fists  more  formidable  than 
the  iron  they  attack.  Italian  priests  tum- 
ble over  tfght-laced  dandies;  and  the 
'  Via  via'  of  the  Roman  guard,  and  the 
'  Fous  ne  resiez  pas  iss?  of  the  Swiss 
mingle  with  screams,  supplications  and 
rcproofe,  long  after  the  solemn  service  of 


the  church  has  begun.  The  procession  of 
the  sacrament  to  the  Paoline  chapel  suc- 
ceeds ;  its  gates  are  thrown  open,  and  its 
dusky  walls  appear  illuminated  with 
thousands  of  tapers,  twinkling  in  the  rays 
of  the  noonday  sun,  through  an  atmos- 
phere of  smoke.  Few  are  able  to  enter 
the  illuminated  chapel,  or  to  behold  the 
deposition  of  the  sacrament;  and  many 
who  are  informed  of  the  programme  of 
the  day,  by  endeavouring  to  catch  at  all 
the  ceremonies,  scarcely  attain  to  any."  * 

Easter  Eve  in  Spain. 

Mr.  Blanco  White  says,  that  the  service 
in  the  cathedral  of  Seville  begins  this 
morning  without  either  the  sound  of  bells 
or  of  musical  instruments.  The  paschal 
chandle  is  seen  by  the  north  side  of  the 
altar.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  pillar  of  wax,  nine 
yards  in  height,  and  thick  in  proportion, 
standing  on  a  regular  marble  pedestal. 
It  weighs  eighty  arrobas,  or  two  thousand 
pounds,  of  twelve  ounces.  This  candle  is 
cast  and  painted  new  every  year,  the  old 
one  being  broken  into  pieces  on  the 
Saturday  preceding  Whitsunday,  the  day 
when  part  of  it  is  used  for  the  consecra- 
tion of  the  baptismal  font.  The  sacred 
torch  is  lighted  with  the  new  fire,  which 
this  morning  the  priest  strikes  out  of  a 
flint,  and  it  burns  during  service  till  As- 
cension-day. A  chorister  in  his  surplice 
climbs  up  a  gilt-iron  rod,  furnished  with 
steps  like  a  flag-staff,  and  having  the  top 
railed  in,  so  as  to  admit  of  a  seat  on  a 
level  with  the  end  of  the  candle.  From 
this  crow's  nest,  the  young  man  lights  up 
and  trims  the  wax  pillar,  drawing  off  the 
melted  wax  with  a  large  iron  ladle. 

High  mass  begins  this  day  behind  the 
great  veil,  which  for  the  two  last  weeks  in 
Lent  covers  the  altar.  After  some  pre- 
paratory prayers,  the  priest  strikes  up  the 
hymn  Gloria  in  excelsis  Deo.  At  this 
moment  the  veil  flies  off,  the  explosion  of 
fireworks  in  the  upper  galleries  reverbe- 
rates in  a  thousand  echoes  from  the  vaults 
of  the  church,  and  the  four-and-twenty 
large  bells  of  its  tower  awake,  with  their 
discordant  though  gladdening  sounds, 
those  of  the  one  hundred  and  forty-six 
steeples  which  this  religious  town  boasts 
of.  A  brisk  firing  of  musketry,  accompa- 
nied by  the  howling  of  the  innumerable 
dogs,  which,  unclaimed  by  any  master, 
live  and  multiply  in  the  streets,  adds 
strength  and  variety  to  this  universal  din. 
The  firing  is  directed  against  several  stuffed 

*  Lady  Morgan's  Italy. 


437 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  Q5. 


438 


figures,  not  unlike  Guy  Fawkes  of  the 
fifth  of  November,  which  are  seen  hanging 
by  the  neck  on  a  rope,  extended  across 
the  least  frequented  streets.  It  is  then 
that  the  pious' rage  of  the  people  of  Seville 
is  vented  against  the  arch-traitor  Judas, 
whom  they  annually  hang,  shoot,  draw, 
and  quarter  in  effigy. 

The  church  service  ends  in  a  procession 
about  the  aisles.  The  priest  bears  the 
host  in  his  hands,  visible  through  glass  as 
a  picture  within  a  medallion.  The  sudden 
change  from  the  gloomy  appearance  of 
the  church  and  its  ministers,  to  the  simple 
and  joyous  character  of  this  procession, 
the  very  name  of  pasqua  florida,  the 
flowery  passover,  and,  more  than  the 
name,  the  flowers  themselves,  which  well- 
dressed  children,  mixed  with  the  censer- 
bearers,  scatter  on  the  ground,  crowd  the 
mind  and  heart  with  the  ideas,  hopes,  and 
feelings  of  renovated  life,  and  give  to  this 
ceremony,  even  for  those  who  disbelieve 
the  personal  presence  of  a  Deity  triumph- 
ant over  death,  a  character  of  inexpress- 
ible tenderness.* 

Papal  Conversion  of  the  Jews. 

The  day  before  Easter  Sunday  at  Rome, 
two  or  more  Jews  are  procured  to  be 
baptized.  An  eye-witness  of  a  couple  of 
these  converts,  says,  "  The  two  devoted 
Israelites  prepared  for  this  occasion,  at- 
tired in  dirty  yellow  silk  gowns,  were 
seated  on  a  bench  within  the  marble  front 
of  the  baptistery,  which  resembles  a  large 
bath,  both  in  form  and  shape,  conning 
their  prayers  out  of  a  book,  with  most 
rueful  visages.  Fast  to  their  sides  stuck 
their  destined  godfathers,  two  black- 
robed  doctors  of  divinity,  as  if  to  guard 
and  secure  their  spiritual  captives.  The 
ancient  vase  at  the  bottom  of  the  font,  in 
which,  according  to  an  absurd  legend, 
Constantine  was  healed  of  his  leprosy  by 
St.  Sylvester,  stood  before  them  filled 
with  water,  and  its  margin  adorned  with 
flowers.  The  cardinal  bishop,  who  had 
been  employed  ever  since  six  o'clock  in 
the  benediction  of  fire,  water,  oil,  wax, 
and  flowers,  now  appeared,  followed  by 
a  long  procession  of  priests  and  crucifixes. 
He  descended  into  the  font,  repeated  a 
great  many  prayers  in  Latin  over  the 
water,  occasionally  dipping  his  hand  into 
it.  Then  a  huge  flaming  wax  taper,  about 
six  feet  high,  arid  of  proportionate  thick- 

»  Doblado's  Letters. 


ness,  painted  with  images  of  the  virgin 
and  Christ,  which  had  previously  been 
blessed,  was  set  upright  in  the  vase; 
more  Latin  prayers  were  mumbled — one 
of  the  Jews  was  brought,  the  bishop  cut 
the  sign  of  the  cross  in  the  hair,  at  the 
crown  of  his  head,  then,  with  a  silver 
ladle,  poured  some  of  the  water  upon  the 
part,  baptizing  him  in  the  usual  forms, 
both  the  godfathers  and  he  having  agreed 
to  all  that  was  required  of  them.  The 
second  Jew  was  then  brought,  upon 
whom  the  same  ceremonies  were  per- 
formed;  this  poor  little  fellow  wore  a 
wig,  and,  when  the  cold  water  was 
poured  on  his  bare  skull,  he  winced  ex- 
ceedingly, and  made  many  wry  faces. 
They  were  then  conveyed  to  the  altar  of 
the  neighbouring  chapel,  where  they  were 
confirmed,  and  repeated  the  creed.  The 
bishop  then  made  the  sign  of  the  cross 
upon  their  foreheads,  with  holy  oil, 
over  which  white  fillets  were  immediately 
tied  to  secure  it ;  he  then  pronounced  a 
long  exhortation,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  frightened  them  so  that  the  little  Jevr 
with  a  wig  began  to  cry  most  bitterly, 
and  would  not  be  comforted.  This  being 
over,  the  Jews  were  conducted,  with 
great  ceremony,  from  the  baptistery  to 
the  door  of  the  church,  where  they  stop- 
ped, and,  after  some  chanting  by  the 
bishop,  they  were  allowed  to  pass  the 
threshold ;  they  were  then  seated  within 
the  very  pale  of  the  altar,  in  order  that 
they  might  witness  a  succession  of  various 
ceremonies."* 

Greek  Preparation  for  Easter. 
The  Rev.  J.  Conner  describes  the 
ceremonies  of  the  Greek  church  at  Jeru- 
salem on  Easter-eve.  "  I  went  to  the 
church  to  spend  the  night  there,  that  I 
might  view  all  the  different  observances. 
It  is  a  general  belief  among  the  Greeks 
and  Armenians,  that,  on  Easter-eve,  a 
fire  descends  from  heaven  into  the 
sepulchre.  The  eagerness  of  the  Greeks, 
Armenians,  and  others,  to  light  their 
candles  at  this  holy  fire,  carried  an 
immense  crowd  to  the  church,  notwith- 
standing the  sum  v/hich  they  were 
obliged  to  pay.  About  nine  at  night,  I 
retired  to  rest,  in  a  small  apartment  in 
the  church.  A  little  before  midnight, 
the  servant  roused  me  to  see  the  Greek 
procession.  I  hastened  to  the  gallery  of 

^mc  in  the  Nineteenth  Century. 


439 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  26. 


440 


the  church.  The  scene  was  striking  and 
brilliant.  The  Greek  chapel  was  splen- 
didly illuminated.  Five  rows  of  lamps 
were  suspended  in  the  dome  ;  and  almost 
every  individual  of  the  immense  multi- 
tude held  a  lighted  candle  in  his  hand." 
The  ceremonies  on  Easter  Sunday  were 
very  grand. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  42     85. 

26. 

EASTER  SUNDAY. 

There  is  little  trace  in  England  of  the 
"'mposing  effect  of  this  festival  in  papal 
terms 

It  is  affirmed,  that  at  Queen's-college, 
Oxford,  the  first  dish  brought  to  the  table 
on  Easter-day,  is  a  red  herring,  riding 
away  on  horseback,  that  is  to  say,  a 
herring  placed  by  the  cook,  something 
after  the  likeness  of  a  man  on  horseback, 
set  on  a  corn  sallad.*  This  is  the  only 
vestige  of  the  pageants  which  formerly 
were  publicly  exhibited  by  way  of  popu- 
lar rejoicing  for  the  departure  of  the  forty 
days  Lent  fast,  and  the  return  to  solid 
eating  with  the  Easter  festival. 

The  custom  of  eating  a  gammon  of 
bacon  at  Easter,  still  maintained  in  some 
parts  of  England,  is  founded  on  the  ab- 
horrence our  forefathers  thought  proper 
to  express,  in  that  way,  towards  the  Jews 
at  the  season  of  commemorating  the 
resurrection.f 

Lifting  at  Easter,  and  pace  or  paste 
eggs,  with  other  usages  derived  from 
catholic  customs,  are  described  and  traced 
in  vol.  i.  p.  421. 

Since  these  "  Caps  well  fit ;  by  Titus 
in  Sand  gate  and  Titus  every  where>"  a 
curious  little  duodecimo,  printed  at  New- 
castle in  1785,  has  come  into  the  editor's 
hands,  from  whence  is  extracted  the 
following — 

Paste  Egg*"1' 

Once — yes  once,  upon  a  ttiiste-iLgg-&ayt 
Some  lords  and  )adies  met  to  play  ; 
For  then  such  pastimes  bore  the  bell. 
Like  old  Olympicks — full  as  well ; 

*  Antiquarian  Repertory. 
t  Drake's  Shakespeare  and  hia  Times. 


And  now,  our  gentry  on  the  green, 
Throng'd  forth,  to  see,  and  to  be  seen, 
Moment  this,  for  assignation, 
And  all  the  courtesy  of  fashion. 

A  poor  old  woman,  passing  by, 
Gaz'd  at  the  ring  with  curious  eye 
Sometimes  frowning,  sometimes  smiling. 
In  thought  approving — or  reviling. 
Not  yet  quite  froze,  by  want  or  age, 
Her  fancy  could  at  times  engage ; 
Her  age  might  reckon  eighty-five, 
But  curiosity  alive, 
She  fix'd  her  barnacles  to  nose 
The  better  to  observe  the  shows. 

Discover'd  soon— some  wags  stept  forth, 
And  ask'd  her,  what  such  sights  were  worth, 
What  did  she  think  of  genteel  modes, 
Where  half  belie v'd  themselves  half-Gods  ? 
And  t'other  half,  so  wondrous  wise,     ',     , 
Believe  that  bliss — in  trifling  lies  ? 
They  begg'd  that  she  would  frank  declare 
What  she  thought  such  people  were  1 

The  grey-hair'd  matron  rubb'd  her  eyes, 
Then  turn'd  her  glasses  to  the  skies  ; 
As  if  to  catch  some  thought  in  cue, 
To  give  them  truth  and  laughter  too. 
Next,  humbly  beg'd  for  some  Paste  Eggs, 
With  leave  to  sit,— to  rest  her  legs. 
Then  down  she  squats,  and  round  they  throng, 
Impatient  for  somzjokelike  song ; 

Of  eggs  they  brought  her  number  nine, 
All  nicely  mark'd,  and  colour'd  fine, 
One,  was  blacker  than  the  sloe, 
Another,  white  as  driven  snow. 
Red,  crimson,  purple,  azure,  blue. 
Green,  pink,  and  yellow,  rose  to  view. 
She  closely  peetd  them,  one  by  one, 
Broke  this,  and  that,  till  all  were  done. 
Then  shrugg'd  her  shoulders, — wav'd  her  head, 
But  not  one  syllable  she  said. 

Arnaz'd,  at  silence  so  profound ; 
The  quality  press  closer  round; 
And  gently  urg'd  her,  more  and  more, 
To  answer  what  they  ask'd  before? 
And  how  did  one  so  ripe  in  years, 
Estimate  a  life  like  theirs  \ 
What  semblance,  worthy  observation, 
Suited  the  heirs  of  dissipation  ? 
Whilst  she,  kept  pressing  up  and  down 
As  seeking  how  their  wish  to  crown. 
What  had  she  apropos  to  say 
Of  persons  so  superbly  gay  ? 

In  throth — quo*  she,  I'm  short  and  plain 
Long-  speaking  only  gives  me  pain ; 
And  faith  I  have  ye,  gentlefolks, 
As  clear  in  view,  as  whites  or  yokes, 
So  like  those  eggs — I  can  but  smile, 
In  every  cast  of  light  and  style. 


441 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  26. 


442 


Your  transient  colours,  fleet  as  theirs, 
Yourflimsiness,  in  spite  of  airs ; 
Tn  substance,  scarce  more  rare  or  new, 
Some  parboil? d — some  par-rotten  too : 
Of  Jittle  worth,  in  wisdom's  eye, 
And  thrown,  at  last,  like  egg-shells  by 

They   heard — they   frown'd — but   fled    the 

green, 
As  if  a  thunderbolt  had  been. 


Lostwithlel  Custom. 
A  very  singular  custom  formerly  pre- 
vailed  at   Lo'scwithiel,   in  Cornwall,  on 
Easter  Sunday.     The  freeholders  of  the 
town  and  manor  having  assembled  toge- 
ther, either  in  person  or  by  their  deputies, 
one  among  them,  each  in  his  turn,  gaily 
attired   and  gallantly   mounted,   with    a 
sceptre  in  his  hand,  a  crown  on  his  head, 
and  a  sword  borne  before  him,  and  re- 
spectfully  attended   by   all   the   rest    on 
horseback,    rode   through   the   principal 
street  in  solemn  state  to  the  church.     At 
the  churchyard  stile,  the  curate,  or  other 
minister,  approached  to  meet  him  in  re- 
verential pomp,  and  then  conducted  him 
to   church  to  hear   divine  service.     On 
leaving  the  church,  he  repaired,  with  the 
same  pomp  and  retinue,  to  a  house  pre- 
viously prepared  for  his  reception.     Here 
a  feast,  suited  to  the  dignity  he  had  as- 
sumed, awaited  him  and  his  suite ;  and, 
being  placed  at  the  head  of  the  table,  he 
was  served,  kneeling,  with  all  the  rites 
and  ceremonies  that  a  real  prince  might 
expect.     This  ceremony  ended  with  the 
dinner ;  the  prince  being  voluntarily  dis- 
robed, and  descending  from  his  momen- 
tary exaltation,   to   mix    with    common 
mortals.     On  the  origin  of  this  custom, 
but  one  opinion  can  be  reasonably  enter- 
tained, though  it  may  be  difficult  to  trace 
the  precise  period  of  its  commencement. 
It  seems  to  have  originated  in  the  actual 
appearance  of  the  prince,  who  resided  at 
Restormel  castle  in  former  ages ;  but  on 
the  removal  of  royalty,  this  mimic  gran- 
deur stepped  forth  as  its  shadowy  repre- 
sentative, and  continued  for  many  gene- 
rations as  a  memorial  to  posterity  of  the 
princely  magnificence  with  which  Lost- 
withiel  had  formerly  been  honoured.* 


*  Hitchins's  Cornwall 


THE  BIDDENDEN   MAIDS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  E  very-Day  Book. 

Tenter  den,  February -,  1826. 
Sir,— I  beg  to  enclose  you  a  specimen  of 
a  Biddenden  cake,  and  a  printed  account, 
which  you  may  perhaps  think  worth  in- 
sertion in  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  small  town  of  Biddenden  is  about 
four  miles  from  Tenterden,  on  the  right  of 
the  road.  It  is  at  present  populous, 
though  the  clothing  manufacture,  which 
first  occasioned  the  increase  of  the  popu- 
lation of  this  part  of  the  county,  in  the 
reign  of  Edward  III.  when  the  Flemings 
first  introduced  it,  has  for  many  years 
failed  here:  several  good  houses,  still  re- 
maining, discover  the  prosperity  of  the 
former  inhabitants.  The  church  is  a 
handsome  regular  building,  and  its  tower 
a  structure  of  a  considerable  height  and 
strength  ;  a  portion  of  the  old  part  is  still 
remaining.  In  this  there  is  a  free  gram- 
mar school,  endowed  with  a  good  house 
and  garden,  and  a  salary  of  20/.  per  an- 
num. Two  maiden  sisters  left  some  land 
adjoining  the  glebe  to  the  parish,  of  the 
rent  of  20/.  a  year,  which  is  held  by  the 
churchwardens,  and  distributed  in  bread 
to  the  poor  on  Easter-day.  A  repre- 
sentation of  the  donors  is  impressed  on 
the  leaves,  and  on  the  cakes,  which  were 
formerly  thrown  from  the  roof  of  the 
church. 

In  the  high  chancel  against  the  north 
wall  is  a  monument,  with  a  bust  in  white 
marble,  executed  by  Scheemaker,  of  sir 
John  Norris,  who  died  in  1749;  admiral 
of  the  British  fleets,  and  vice-admiral  of 
England.  I  am,  &c.  J.  J.  A.  F. 

The  "  Biddenden  cake,"  transmitted 
through  this  obliging  correspondent,  ap- 
pears to  have  been  made  some  years  ago, 
and  carefully  preserved ;  the  "  printed 
account"  accompanying  it,  is  "  adorned" 
by  a  wood  cut  figure  of  the  founders  of 
the  endowment,  improved  by  the  en- 
graver from  the  impressions  on  the 
cakes.  But,  altogether  setting  aside  that 
wood  cut,  the  annexed  engraving  is  an 
exact  representation  of  the  baker's  im- 
press on  the  cake  sent  to  the  editor,  and  is 
of  the  exact  size  of  the  cake.  A  verbatim 
copy  of  the  "  printed  account"  on  a  half 
sheet  of  demy,  circulated  at  this  time,  is 
subjoined  to  the  present  engraving. 


443 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  26. 


444 


Cafee* 


COPY  OF  THE  PRINTED  NARRATIVE  BEFORE  REFERRED  TO. 

A  NEW  AND  ENLARGED  ACCOUNT  OF  THE 

BIDDENDEN  MAIDS  IN  KENT, 

BORN  JOINED  AT  THE  HIPS  AND  SHOULDERS  : 
With  a  well  authenticated  Account  of  a  similar  Phenomenon  of  Two  Brothers. 

ON  EASTER  SUNDAY  in  every  year  after  Divine  Service  in  the  afternoon  at  the 
PARISH  OF  BIDDENDEN,  in  the  County  of  Kent,  there  are  by  the  Churchwardens, 
given  to  Strangers  about  1000  Rolls,  with  an  impression  on  them  similar  to  the  Plate. 
The  origin  of  this  Custom  is  thus  related. 

In  the  year  1100  at  Biddenden,  in  Kent,  were  born  ELIZABETH  and  MARY  CHULK- 
IIURST,  Joined  together  by  the  Hips  and  Shoulders,  and  who  lived  in  that  state,  Thirty 
Four  Years  !  !  at  the  expiration  of  which  time,  one  of  them  was  taken  ill  and  after  a 
shoit  period  died  ;  the  surviving  one  was  advised  to  be  separated  from  the  corpse 
which  she  absolutely  refused  by  saying  these  words,  "  as  we  came  together,  we  will 
also  go  together,'  and  about  six  hours  after  her  sister's  decease,  she  was  taken  ill  and 


445  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  26.  446 

* 

died  also.      A  Stone  near  the  Rector's  Pew  marked  with  a  diagonal  line  is  shewn  as 
the  place  of  their  interment. 

Cf)e  moon  on  tf)e  east  oriel  sfjone,  Cijrougfy  sTenfcer  Shafts  of  3f)apel»  atom, 
Cfye  tfilber  ligfjt,  sfo  pale  and  faint,  &|etoefc  tf)e  tirnn  $isttw$  an&  mam>  a  Saint, 
OTJjoSe  images;  on  t§e  glass  foere  "Hgeli  ;  fHgStetriottS  matifenS  Sitfe  bg  sttJe. 
Cije  moon  beam  fcissefc  tf)e  fyolg  pane,  Sfato  tfjrefo  on  ti)e  pa&ement  a  mgstic 
Stain. 

It  is  further  stated,  that  by  their  will,  they  bequeathed  to  the  Churchwardens  of  the 
Parish  of  Biddenden,  and  their  successors,  Churchwardens  for  ever,  certain  pieces  or 
parcels  of  Land  in  the  Parish,  containing  about  20  Acres,  which  is  hired  at  40  Guineas 
per  annum,  and  that  in  commemoration  of  this  wonderful  Phenomenon  of  Nature,  the 
Rolls  and  about  300  Quartern  Loaves  and  Cheese  in  proportion,  should  be  given  1o 
the  Poor  Inhabitants  of  the  Parish. 

This  account  is  entirely  traditionary,  the  Learned  Antiquarian  HASTED,  in  his  ac- 
count of  the  Charities  of  the  Parish,  states  the  Land  "  was  the  gift  of  two  Maidens, 
of  the  name  of  Preston  :  and  that  the  print  of  the  women  on  the  cakes  has  only  been 
used  within  these  80  years,  and  was  made  to  represent  two  poor  widows,  as  the  general 
objects  of  a  charitable  benefaction."  It  is  probable  that  the  investigation  of  the 
learned  Antiquary,  brought  to  light  some  record  of  the  name  of  the  Ladies,  for  in  the 
year  1656,  the  Rev.  W.  Homer,  then  Rector  of  the  Parish,  claimed  the  Land,  as 
having  been  given  to  augment  his  glebe,  but  was  non-suited  in  the  court  of  Exche- 
quer. In  the  pleadings  preserved  in  the  Church,  the  names  of  the  Ladies  are  not 
stated,  not  being  known.  There  are  also  two  other  Places  where  such  Phenomena  are 
said  to  have  occurred. 

If  these  statements  weaken  the  credibility  of  the  tradition,  the  following  account  of 
a  Lusus  Naturae,  compiled  from  the  London  Medical  Repository,  for  1821,  page  138, 
will  unquestionably  confirm  the  opinion  of  many  as  to  the  probability  of  the  Pheno- 
menon of  the  Biddenden  Maids, — Mr.  Livingstone,  the  Surgeon  of  the  British  Factory 
at  Canton,  relates  that  there  was  shewn  at  Macao,  A-ke,  a  boy  about  sixteen  years  of 
age,  to  whom  was  attached  another  Male  Child,  united  at  the  pit  of  the  stomach  by 
the  neck,  as  if  his  head  was  plunged  into  Ake's  breast.  At  the  time  of  their  birth 
they  were  nearly  of  an  equal  size,  but  the  parasite  has  not  much  increased  since  that 
period.  The  skin  of  A-ke  joins  regularly  and  smoothly,  the  neck  of  the  parasite,  so 
that  he  can  turn  his  brother  on  either  of  his  sides  upon  himself,  but  the  natural  posir 
tion  is  breast  to  breast ;  on  the  whole  the  parasite  is  well  formed  being  about  two'feet 
in  length. — A-ke  thinks  that  at  one  period  their  feelings  were  reciprocal,  but  for  some 
time  he  has  not  perceived  it  except  in  one  particular  act,  when  his  brother  never  fails 
to  do  the  same,  he  however  feels  the  slightest  touch  applied  to  his  brother. 

A-ke  has  generally  a  sickly  appearance,  but  excepting  the  parasite,  is  well  formed ; 
about  4  feet  10  inches  high  ;  is  easily  fatigued  in  walking  or  ascending  a  flight  of  steps 
being  obliged  to  support  his  brother  with  his  hands.  When  fatigued  he  breathes  with 
difficulty,  and  is  only  relieved  by  laying  down. 

CHAMBERS  AND  EXALL,  Printers,  (King's  Arms  Printing  Office)  TENTERDEN. 


The  preceding  "  account"  is  an  enlarge-  Biddenden  is  completely  thronged.     The 

ment  of  a  preceding  one  of  the  same  size,  public  houses  are  crowded  with  people 

on    a    larger    type,   with    this   imprint,  attracted   from  the   adjacent   towns  and 

"  BIDDENDEN  :  Printed  and  Sold  by  R.  villages  by  the  usage,  and  the  wonderful 

WESTON — 1808.     [Price     Two-pence.]"  account  of  its  origin,  and  the  day  is  spent 

R.  Weston's  paper  does  not  contain  the  in  rude  festivity. 

story  of  "A-ke"  which  is  well  calculated  to  

make    the   legend   of  the    "Biddenden        To   elucidate  this    annual   custom  as 

Maids,"  pass  current  with  the  vulgar.  fully  as  possible,  all  that  Mr.  Hasted  says 

Our  Tenterden  correspondent  adds,  in  of  the  matter  is  here  extracted  : — 
a  subsequent  letter,  that,  onEaster  Sunday,        "  Twenty  acres    of  land,    called    the 


447 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  26. 


448 


Bread  and  Cheese  Land,  lying  in  five 
pieces,  were  given  by  persons  unknown, 
the  yearly  rents  to  bo  distributed  among 
the  poor  of  this  parish.  This  is  yearly 
done  on  Easter  Sunday  in  the  afternoon, 
in  six  hundred  cakes,  each  of  which  have 
the  figures  of  two  woman  impressed  on 
them,  and  are  given  to  all  such  as  attend 
the  church;  and  two  hundred  and  seventy 
loaves,  weighing  three  pounds  and  a  half 
a  piece,  to  which  latter  is  added  one 
pound  and  an  half  of  cheese,  are  given, 
to  the  parishoners  only,  at  the  same  time. 
"There  is  a  vulgar  tradition  in  these 
parts,  that  the  figures  on  the  cakes  repre- 
sent the  donors  of  this  gift,  being  two 
women,  twins,  who  were  joined  together  in 
their  bodies,  and  lived  together  so,  till  they 
were  between  twenty  and  thirty  years  of 
age.  But  this  seems  without  foundation. 
The  truth  seems  to  be,  that  it  was  the  gift  of 
two  maidens  of  the  name  of  Preston,  and 
that  the  print  of  the  women  on  the  cakes 
has  taken  place  only  within  these  fifty 
years,  and  was  made  to  represent  two 
poor  widows  as  the  general  objects  of  a 
charitable  benefaction.  William  Homer, 
rector  of  this  parish  in  1656  brought  a 
suit  in  the  exchequer  for  the  recovery  of 
these  lands,  as  having  been  given  for  an 
augmentation  of  his  glebe  land,  but  he 
was  nonsuited.  The  lands  are  bounded 
on  the  east  by  the  glebe,  on  the  south  by 
the  highway,  and  one  piece  on  the  north 
of  the  highway ;  they  are  altogether  of 
the  yearly  value  of  about  3 II,  10*."* 


Allusion  is  made  by  the  rev.  Mr.  Fos- 
broke,  to  a  custom  in  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury of  seizing  all  ecclesiastics  who 
walked  abroad  between  Easter  and  Pen- 
tecost, because  the  apostles  were  seized 
by  the  Jews  after  Christ's  passion ;  and 
making  them  purchase  their  liberty  by 
money  .f 

Mr.  Brand  relates,  "  that  on  Easter 
Sunday,  is  still  retained  at  the  city  of 
Durham  in  the  Easter  holidays  :  on  one 
day  the  men  take  off  the  women's  shoes, 
or  rather  buckles,  which  are  only  to  be 
redeemed  by  a  present :  on  another  day 
the  women  make  reprisals,  taking  off  the 
men's  in  like  manner."  The  annexed  let- 
ter shows  that  the  practice  in  that  city  is  not 
quite  out  of  fashion,  though  buckles  are. 


*  Hasted's  Kent,  1790 
t  Fosbroke's  British  Jrtonachism. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-  Day  Book. 

Durham,  March  3,  1 826. 

Sir, — To  contribute  towards  the  informa- 
tion you  desire  to  convey  concerning  popu- 
lar customs,  &c.  I  will  describe  one,  much 
practised  in  Durham,  which  I  think  you 
have  not  noticed  in  the  former  volume  of 
your  interesting  work. 

On  Easter  Sunday  it  is  a  common 
custom  here,  for  a  number  of  boys  to 
assemble  in  the  afternoon,  and  as  soon  as 
the  clock  strikes  four,  scour  the  streets  in 
parties,  and  accost  every  female  they  may 
happen  to  meet,  with  "  pay  for  your  shoes 
if  you  please,"  at  the  same  time,  stooping 
to  take  them  off;  which,  if  they  do,  and 
do  not  immediately  get  a  penny  or  two- 
pence, they  will  actually  carry  off  by 
main  force.  I  have  known  the  boys  have, 
at  least,  a  dozen  odd  shoes ;  but  gene- 
rally, something  is  given,  which  in  the 
evening  they  either  spend  in  public 
houses,  or  divide.  On  Easter  Monday, 
the  women  claim  the  same  privilege  to- 
wards the  male  sex.  They  begin  much 
earlier  in  the  day,  and  attack  every  man 
and  boy  they  can  lay  hold  of  to  make 
them  pay  for  their  shoes ;  if  the  men 
happen  to  wear  boots,  and  will  not  pay 
any  thing,  the  girls  generally  endea- 
vour to  seize  their  hats  and  run  off.  If 
a  man  catches  the  girl  with  the  hat,  it  is 
usually  thrown  or  handed  about  to  the 
great  amusement  of  the  spectators,  till  the 
person  is  baffled  out  of  a  sixpence  to  re- 
deem the  right  of  wearing  it  again :  but 
this,  like  all  other  old  customs,  has  greatly 
fallen  off  lately,  and  is  now  chiefly  prac- 
tised by  a  few  children. 

I  am,  &c. 

J.B. 

A  contributor  to  the  "  Gentleman's 
Magazine"  in  August,  1790,  says  that,  at 
Rippon,  in  Yorkshire,  "  on  Easter  Sun- 
day, as  soon  as  the  service  of  the  church 
is  over,  the  boys  run  about  the  streets, 
and  lay  hold  of  every  woman  or  girl  they 
can,  and  take  their  buckles  from  their 
shoes.  This  farce  is  continued  till  the 
next  day  at  noon,  when  the  females  begin, 
and  return  the  compliment  upon  the  men, 
which  does  not  end  till  Tuesday  evening ; 
nay,  I  was  told  that,  some  years  ago,  no 
traveller  could  pass  through  the  town 
without  being  stopped  and  having  his 
spurs  taken  away,  unless  redeemed  by  a 
little  money,  which  is  the  only  way  to 
have  your  buckles  returned."1 


449 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH   26. 


450 


Pressing  in  Church. 

On  the  morning  of  Easter  Sunday, 
1596,  during  the  reign  of  queen  Eliza- 
beth, the  lord  mayor  and  aldermen  of 
London  received  the  royal  command  to 
raise  a  thousand  men  with  the  utmost 
ixpedition  ;  wherefore  they  repaired  with 
their  deputies,  constables,  and  other  offi- 
cers, to  the  churches,  and  having  caused 
the  doors  to  be  shut,  took  the  people  du- 
ring divine  service  from  their  worship,  till 
the  number  was  completed,  and  having 
armed  them,  the  men,  so  raised  and 
equipped,  were  marched  the  same  night 
for  Dover,  in  order  to  their  embarkation 
for  France ;  but  in  the  mean  time,  Eli- 
zabeth having  received  advice  of  the  re- 
duction of  Calais  by  the  Spaniards,  they 
were  countermanded,  and  returned  to 
the  city  in  about  a  week  after  their 
departure.* 

EASTER  DAY  CUSTOMS 
At  Twickenham,  and  Paddington. 
According  to  Mr.  Lysons,  "  There  was 
an  ancient  custom    at  Twickenham,    of 
dividing  two  great  cakes  in  the  church 
upon  Easter-day  among  the  young  peo- 
ple ;  but  it  being  looked  upon  as  a  super- 
stitious relic,  it  was   ordered   by  parlia- 
ment, 1645,  that  the  parishioners  should 
forbear  that  custom,  and,  instead  thereof, 
buy  loaves  of  bread  for  the  poor  of  the 
parish  with  the  money  that  should  hare 
bought  the  cakes.     It  appears  that  the 
sum  of  £i.per  annum  is  still  charged  upon 
the  vicarage  for  the  purpose  of  buying 
penny  loaves  for   poor  children   on  the 
Thursday  after  Easter.      Within  the  me- 
mory of  man  they  were  thrown  from  the 
church-steeple   to  be   scrambled   for;   a 
custom  which  prevailed  also,  some  time 
ago,  at  Paddington,  and  is  not  yet  totally 
abolished."      A  correspondent  imagines 
that  the  Paddington  custom   of  throwing 
bread   from    the    church -steeple,    which 
exists  also  in  other  parishes,  was  derived 
from  largesses  bestowed  on  the  poor  by 
the  Romish  clergy  on  occasion  of  the  fes- 
tival, and  that  it  has  been  continued  since 
the  Reformation,  and,  therefore,  since  the 
institution   of    poor   rates,  without   due 
regard  to  its  original  object. 

Biddenden  Custom. 

Since  the  former  sheet  was  printed,  an 
article  occurs  to  the  editor  in  the  "  Gentle- 
man's Magazine,"  which  it  seems  proper  to 


VoL.ll.-67. 


*  Maitland. 


notice.  The  writer  there  states,  that  u  Bid- 
denden is  a  parish  of  great  extent,  as  most 
parishes  in  the  tPtfalrfofKent  are;"  that  this 
part  of  the  country  is  called  the  weald, 
"  from  the  growth  of  large  timber,  oak  par- 
ticularly;" that  the  town  of  Biddenden  is 
about  five  miles  equi-distant  from  three 
several  market  towns,  Cranbrook,  Smar- 
den,  and  Tenterden  ;  and  is  distant  about 
fifteen  miles  from  Maidstone.  On  the 
same  authority,  is  now  added  that  it  does 
not  furnish  any  antique  inscriptions,  nor 
does  the  weald  in  general  yield  the  in- 
quirer any  thing  antique  or  invaluable  to 
repay  his  search.  In  the  reign  of  queeu 
Elizabeth,  John  Mayne,  esq.  endowed  a 
good  house  and  garden  with  20/.  per 
annum,  for  a  free  grammar  school,  which 
owing  to.  the  salary  being  fixed  at  that 
amount  by  the  founder,  is  neither  eligible 
to  persons  qualified  under  the  regulations, 
nor  is  it  capable  of  being  increased.  The 
visitation  of  the  school,  was  formerly  in 
the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  but  is  so  no 
longer,  and  the  schoolmaster  is  appointed 
by  the  lord.  The  archbishop  is  patron  of 
the  rectory,  which,  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
VIII.,  was  valued  so  high  as  351.  The 
fair  here  is  on  the  8th  of  November.  Mr. 
Urban's  correspondent  noticing  "the 
two  maided-sisters  who  grew  together 
from  the  waist  downwards,"  refers  to  ac- 
counts of  similar  wonders,  and  waggishly 
ends  his  list  by  directing  to  the  "Memoirs 
of  Scriblerus,  by  A  Pope,"  as  an  authority 
corroborative  of  the  apocryphal  "Bid- 
denden Maids." 


PASTE  EGGS. 

A  correspondent,  T.  A.,  mentions  this 
custom  in  Cheshire  :  "  Children  go  round 
the  village  and  beg  eggs  for  their  Easter 
dinner ;  they  accompany  it  by  a  short 
song,  which  I  am  sorry  I  am  unable  to 
present  to  you,  but  the  burthen  of  it  is  ad- 
dressed to  the  farmer's  dame,  and  asking 
'  an  egg,  bacon,  cheese,  or  an  apple,  or 
any  good  thing  that  will  make  us  merry,' 
ends  with 
'And  Tpray  you,  good  dame,  an  Easter  egg.'  " 

In  Cumberland  and  Westmorland,  and 
other  parts  of  the  north  of  England,  boys 
beg,  on  Easter  eve,  eggs  to  play  with,  and 
beggars  ask  for  them  to  eat.  These  eggs 
are  hardened  by  boiling,  and  tinged  with 
the  juice  of  herbs,  broom-flowers,  &c 
The  eggs  being  thus  prepared,  the  boys 
go  out  and  play  with  them  in  the  fields ; 


151 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  26. 


452 


rolling  them  up  and  down,  like  bowls, 
upon  the  ground,  or  throwing  them  up, 
like  balls,  into  the  air.* 


SUGAR  CUPPING 
In  the  Peak  of  Derbyshire. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Tideswelly  Derbyshire,  March  31, 1826. 

Sir, — The  pleasure  and  instruction  I 
have  derived  from  the  perusal  of  your 
interesting  miscellany,  induce  me  to  offer 
to  your  notice  a  custom  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood denominated  Sugar-cupping, 
which,  like  similar  remnants  of  the  "  olden 
time,"  is  gradually  running  into  disuse. 

Last  Sunday,  being  Easter-day,  I  walked 
to  the  "  Dropping  Tor,"  the  rendezvous  of 
the  "  sugar-cuppers,"  but,  owing  to  the 
extreme  inclemency  of  the  weather,  no 
'one  was  there,  nor  was  it,  I  believe,  once 
visited  during  the  day.  From  frequent 
inquiry  of  the  oldest  persons  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, I  can  learn  nothing  but  that, 
on  Easter  Sunday,  they  were  used,  when 
children,  to  go  to  the  "  Dropping  Tor," 
with  a  cup  in  one  pocket  and  a  quarter  of 
a  pound  of  sugar  in  the  other,  and  having 
caught  in  their  cups  as  much  water  as 
was  desired-  from  the  droppings  of  the 
spring,  they  dissolved  the  sugar  in  it,  and 
drank  it.  The  natural  consequences  re- 
sulting from  the  congregation  of  a  quan- 
tity of  *'young  men  and  maidens"  followed, 
and  they  returned  home.  I  was  anxious 
to  discover  some  jargon  repeated  by  the 
youthful  pilgrims,  as  an  invocation  to  the 
saint  of  the  spring,  or  otherwise;  but  I 
could  not  collect  any  thing  of  the  kind.  I 
conjecture  tiiis  custom  to  be  peculiar  to 
this  part.  If  you,  or  any  of  your  cor- 
respondents, can  furnish  more  satisfactory 
information  respecting  it,  some  of  your 
readers  will  not  regret  I  have  troubled  you 
with  the  hint. 

With  respect,  I  am, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

A  PEAKRIL. 

Further  notice  of  this  usage  at  "  the 
Peak,"  will  be  acceptable  to  the  editor, 
who  is  neither  acquainted  with  the  practice 
nor  its  origin.  At  some  wells  it  is  cus- 
tomary, on  certain  days,  for  persons  to 
strew  flowers,  or  hang  garlands  on  the 
brink.  Accounts  of  this  nature,  especially 
if  accompanied  by  a  drawing  of  the  place, 
are  very  desirable.  We  have  hitherto  had 

*  Brand. 


no  water  customs,  yet  springs  were  very 
early  objects  of  veneration.  These  re- 
mains of  ancient  respect  will  be  duly 
respected  when  communicated. 

EASTER  DAY  AT  ROME. 

On  this  day  the  pope  himself  goes  in 
grand  procession  to  the  cathedral  of  St. 
Peter,  and  assists  at  the  high  mass. 
The  church  is  lined  with  the  guarda 
nobile,  in  their  splendid  uniforms  of  gold 
and  scarlet,  and  nodding  plumes  of  white 
ostrich  feathers,  and  the  Swiss  guards, 
with  their  polished  cuirasses  and  steel 
helmets.  The  great  centre  aisle  is  kept 
clear  by  a  double  wall  of  armed  men,  for 
the  grand  procession,  the  approach  of 
which  is  proclaimed  by  the  sound  of 
trumpet  from  the  farther  end  of  the 
church.  Priests  advance,  loaded  with 
still  augmenting  magnificence,  as  they 
ascend  to  the  higher  orders.  Cloth  of 
gold,  and  embroidery  of  gold  and  silver, 
and  crimson  velvet,  and  mantles  of  spot- 
ted ermine,  and  flowing  trains,  and  atten- 
dant train-bearers,  and  mitres  and  cruci- 
fixes glittering  with  jewels,  and  priests 
and  patriarchs,  and  bishops  and  cardi- 
nals, dazzle  the  eye,  and  fill  the  whole 
length  of  St.  Peter's.  Lastly,  comes  the 
pope,  in  his  crimson  chair  of  state,  borne 
on  the  shoulders  of  twenty  palfrenieri, 
arrayed  in  robes  of  white,  and  wearing 
the  tiara,  or  triple  crown  of  the  conjoined 
Trinity,  with  a  canopy  of  cloth  of  silver 
floating  over  his  head  ;  preceded  by  two 
men,  carrying  enormous  fans,  composed 
of  large  plumes  of  ostrich  feathers, 
mounted  on  long  gilded  wands.  He  stops 
to  pay  his  adorations  to  the  miraculous 
Madonna  in  her  chapel,  abont  half-way 
up  ;  and  this  duty,  which  he  never  omits, 
being  performed,  he  is  slowly  borne  past 
the  high  altar,  liberally  giving  his  bene- 
diction with  the  twirl  of  the  three  fingers 
as  he  passes. 

He  is  then  set  down  upon  a  magnifi- 
cent stool,  in  front  of  the  altar,  on  which 
he  kneels,  and  his  crown  being  taken  off, 
and  the  cardinals  taking  off  their  little 
red  caps,  and  all  kneeling  in  a  row,  he 
assumes  the  attitude  of  praying.  Having 
remained  a  few  minutes,  he  is  taken  to  a 
chair  prepared  for  him,  to  the  right  of  the 
throne.  There  he  reads  from  a  book, 
and  is  again  taken  to  she  altar,  on  which 
his  tiara  has  been  placed ;  and,  bare- 
headed, he  repeats — or  as,  by  courtesy,  it 
is  called,  sings — a  small  part  of  the  ser- 


453 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  26. 


454 


vice,  throws  up  clouds  of  incense,  and  is 
removed  to  the  crimson-canopied  throne. 
High  mass  is  celebrated  by  a  cardinal 
and  two  bishops,  at  which  he  assists. 
During  the  service,  the  Italians  seem  to 
consider  it  quite  as  much  of  a  pageant  as 
foreigners,  but  neither  a  new  nor  an  inter- 
esting one ;  they  either  walk  about,  and 
talk,  or  interchange  pinches  of  snuff  with 
each  other,  exactly  as  if  it  had  been  a 
place  of  amusement,  until  the  tinkling  of 
a  little  bell,  which  announces  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  host,  changes  the  scene.  Every 
knee  is  now  bent  to  the  earth,  and  every 
voice  hushed ;  the  reversed  arms  of  the 
military  ring  with  an  instantaneous  clang 
on  the  marble  pavement,  as  they  sink  on 
the  ground,  and  all  is  still  as  death.  This 
does  not  last  above  two  minutes  till  the 
host  is  swallowed.  Thus  begins  and  ends 
the  only  part  that  bears  even  the  smallest 
outward  aspect  of  religion.  The  military 
now  pour  out  of  St.  Peter's,  and  form  an 
extensive  ring  before  its  spacious  front, 
behind  which  the  horse  guards  are  drawn 
up,  and  an  immense  number  of  carriages, 
filled  with  splendidly  dressed  women,  and 
thousands  of  people  on  foot,  are  assem- 
bled. Yet  the  multitude  almost  shrunk 
into  insignificance  in  the  vast  area  of  the 
piazza;  and  neither  piety  nor  curiosity 
collect  sufficient  numbers  to  fill  it.  The 
tops  of  the  colonnades  all  round,  how- 
ever, are  thronged  with  spectators ;  and  it 
is  a  curious  sight  to  see  a  mixture  of  all 
ranks  and  nations, — from  the  coronetted 
heads  of  kings,  to  the  poor  cripple  who 
crawls  along  the  pavement, — assembled 
together  to  await  the  blessing  of  their 
fellow  mortal.  Not  the  least  picturesque 
figures  among  the  throng  are  the  conta- 
jlini,  who,  in  every  variety  of  curious  cos- 
tume, flock  in  from  their  distant  moun- 
tain villages,  to  receive  the  blessing  of 
the  holy  father,  and  whose  bright  and 
eager  countenances,  shaded  by  their  long 
dark  hair,  turn  to  the  balcony  where  the 
pope  is  to  appear.  At  length  the  two 
white  ostrich-feather  fans,  the  forerunners 
of  his  approach,  are  seen ;  a'nd  he  is 
borne  forward  on  his  throne,  above  the 
shoulders  of  the  cardinals  and  bishops, 
who  fill  the  balcony.  After  an  audible 
prayer  he  arises,  and,  elevating  his  hands 
to  heaven,  invokes  a  solemn  benediction 
upon  the  multitude,  and  the  people  com- 
mitted to  his  charge.  Every  head  un- 
covers ;  the  soldiers,  and  many  of  the 
spectators,  kneel  on  the  pavement  to  re- 
ceive the  blessing.  It  is  given  with  im- 


pressive solemnity,  but  with  little  of  ges- 
ture or  parade.  Immediately  the  thun- 
dering of  cannon  from  the  castle  of  St. 
Angelo,  and  the  peal  of  bells  fiom  St. 
Peter's,  proclaim  the  joyful  tidings  to  the 
skies.  The  pope  is  borne  out,  and  the 
people  rise  from  their  knees.* 

GREEK  EASTER. 

The  "Picture  of  Greece  in  1825,"b? 
Messrs.  Emerson  and  Humphreys,  and 
count  Pecchio,  contains  some  particulars 
of  the  celebration  of  the  Greek  church , 
They  say, 

"To -day  being  the  festival  of  Easter, 
Napoli  presented  a  novel  appearance, 
viz.  a  clean  one.  This  feast  as  the  most 
important  in  the  Greek  church,  is  ob- 
served with  particular  rejoicings  and 
respect.  Lent  having  ceased,  the  ovens 
were  crowded  with  the  preparations  for 
banquetting.  Yesterday  every  street  was 
reeking  with  the  blood  of  lambs  and  goats; 
and  to-day,  every  house  was  fragrant 
with  odours  of  pies  and  baked  meats ;  all 
the  inhabitants,  in  festival  array,  were 
hurrying  along  to  pay  their  visits  and 
receive  their  congratulations  ;  every  one, 
as  he  met  his  friend,  saluted  him  with  a 
kiss  on  each  side  of  his  face,  and  repeated 
the  words  Xpurros  a.vevTt\ — *•  Christ  is 
risen/  The  day  was  spent  in  rejoicings 
in  every  quarter ;  the  guns  were  fired 
from  the  batteries,  and  every  moment 
the  echoes  of  the  Palamede  were  replying 
to  the  incessant  reports  of  the  pistols  and 
trophaics  of  the  soldiery.  On  these  oc- 
casions, the  Greeks  (whether  from  laziness 
to  extract  the  ball,  or  for  the  purpose  of 
making  a  louder  report,  I  know  not,) 
always  discharge  their  arms  with  a 
bullet :  frequent  accidents  are  the  con- 
sequence. To-day,  one  poor  fellow  was 
shot  dead  in  his  window,  and  a  second 
severely  wounded  by  one  of  these  ran- 
dom shots.  In  the  evening,  a  grand 
ceremony  took  place  in  the  square :  all 
the  members  of  the  government,  after 
attending  divine  service  in  the  church  of 
St.  George,  met  opposite  the  residence  ol 
the  executive  body ;  the  legislative  being 
the  most  numerous,  took  their  places  in  a 
line,  and  the  executive  passing  along 
them  from  right  to  left,  kissing  commenced 
with  great  vigour,  the  latter  body  em 
bracing  the  former  with  all  fervour  and 
8 flection.  Amongst  such  an  intriguing 

*  Rome  in  the  Nineteenth  Century. 


455 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  26. 


456 


factious  senate  as  the  Greek  legislation, 
it  requires  little  calculation  to  discern 
that  the  greater  portion  of  these  saluta- 
tions were  Judas's  kisses." 


TURKISH  EASTER. 

The  journals  of  1824,  contain  the  fol- 
lowing extract,  from  a  private  letter,  dated 
Tangiers,  in  Africa  : — "  The  day  after  my 
arrival  1  was  present  at  the  celebration 
of  this  country's  Easter,  a  religious  cere- 
mony which  greatly  resembles  our  Easter, 
and  is  so  called.—  At  break  of  day,  twenty 
salutes  of  cannon  announce  the  festival. 
At  this  signal,  the  pacha  proceeds  to  a 
great  plain  ranged  outside  the  city, 
where  he  is  received  by  all  the  troops  of 
the  garrison,  ranged  under  arms.  An 
unfortunate  ram  is  laid  upon  an  altar 
there;  the  pacha  approaches  it,  and 
plunges  a  knife  into  its  throat ;  a  Jew 
then  seizes  the  bleeding  animal,  hoists  it 
on  his  shoulders,  and  runs  off  with  it  to 
the  mosque.  If  the  animal  still  lives  at 
the  moment  he  arrives  there,  which  very 
seldom  fails  to  occur,  the  year  will  be  a 
good  one:  if  the  contrary  happens, 
great  lamentations  and  groanings  are 
made — the  year  will  be  bad.  As  soon  as 
the  victim  is  dead,  a  great  carnage  begins. 
Every  Moor  sacrifices,  according  to  his 
means,  one  or  more  sheep,  and  this  in 
the  open  street ;  the  blood  streams  down 
on  all  sides ;  men  and  women  imbrue 
themselves  in  it  as  much  as  they  please ; 
they  cry,  sing,  dance,  and  endeavour  to 
manifest  the  joy  that  animates  them  in  a 
thousand  forms.  As  soon  as  night  ap- 
pears, the  town  resounds  with  discharges 
of  musketry,  and  it  is  not  till  the  end  of 
eight  days  that  this  charming  festival 
concludes.' 


PROPHECY  CONCERNING  EASTER. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Notwithstanding  the  flood  of  inform- 
ation which  has  been  poured  over  the 
country  during  the  last  half  century,  su- 
perstition, at  once  the  child  and  mother 
of  ignorance,  still  holds  no  inconsiderable 
sway  over  the  minds  of  men.  It  is  true, 
that  the  days  of  ghosts  and  apparitions 
are  nearly  over,  but  futurity  is  as  tempt- 
ing as  ever,  and  the  seventh  son  of  a 
seventh  son  is  still  potent  enough  to  charm 
away  the  money  and  bewilder  the  senses 
of  the  credulous,  and  Nixon's  and  Mother 
Shipton's  prophecies  still  find  believers. 


The  coincidences  by  which  these  legen- 
dary predictions  are  sometimes  fulfilled, 
are  often  curious.  The  present  year  may 
be  said  to  witness  the  accomplishment  of 
one.  It  has  been  said — 

When  my  Lord  falls  in  my  Lady's  lap, 
England  beware  of  some  mishap. 

Meaning  thereby,  that  when  the  festi- 
val of  Easter  falls  near  to  Lady-day,  (the 
25th  of  March,)  this  country  is  threatened 
with  some  calamity.  In  the  year  181 8, 
Easter-day  happened  on  the  22d  ot 
March,  and  in  the  November  of  that 
year,  queen  Charlotte  died.  In  1826, 
Easter-day  happening  on  the  26th  ot 
March,  distress  in  the  commercial  world 
may  be  regarded  as  a  fulfilment  of  the  ' 
prediction.  Spanish  history  affords  a 
curious  instance  of  this  kind.  It  is  re- 
lated, that  Peter  and  John  de  Carvajal, 
who  were  condemned  for  murder,  (A.  D. 
1312.)  on  circumstantial  evidence,  and 
that  very  frivolous,  to  be  thrown  from 
the  summit  of  a  rock,  Ferdinand  IV7., 
then  king  of  Spain,  could  by  no  means 
be  prevailed  upon  to  grant  their  pardon. 
As  they  were  leading  to  execution,  they 
invoked  God  to  witness  their  innocence, 
and  appealed  to  his  tribunal,  to  which 
they  summoned  the  king  to  appear  in 
thirty  days'  time.  He  laughed  at  the 
summons  ;  nevertheless,  some  days  after, 
he  fell  sick,  and  went  to  a  place  called  Al- 
caudet  to  divert  himself  and  recover  his 
health,  and  shake  off  the  remembrance 
of  the  summons  if  he  could.  Accordingly, 
the  thirtieth  day  being  come,  he  found 
himself  much  better,  and  after  showing 
a  great  deal  of  mirth  and  cheerfulness  on 
that  occasion  with  his  courtiers,  and  ridi- 
culing the  illusion,  retired  to  rest,  but 
was  found  dead  in  his  bed  the  next 
morning.  (See  Turquet's  general  History 
of  Spain  1612,  p.  458,  cited  in  Dr. 
Grey's  notes  to  Hudibras,  part  iii.  canto 
1.  lines  209,  210.) 

The  same  author  (Dr.  Grey,)  quotes 
from  Dr.  James  Young,  (Sidrophel  vapu- 
lans,  p.  29,)  that  Cardan,  a  celebrated 
astrologer  lost  his  life  to  save  his  credit ; 
for  having  predicted  the  time  of  his  own 
death,  he  starved  himself  to  verify  it :  or 
else  being  sure  of  his  art,  he  took  this  to 
be  his  fatal  day,  and  by  those  apprehen- 
sions made  it  so.  The  prophecy  of 
George  Wishart,  the  Scottish  martyr,  re- 
specting the  death  of  cardinal  Beatouu, 
is  a  striking  feature  in  a  catalogue  of 
coincidences.  In  such  light  may  be 


45? 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK—MARCH  27. 


458 


cited  th»  stories  of  the  predicted  death  of 
the  duke  of  Buckingham,  in  the  time  of 
Charles  I.,  that  of  lord  Lyttleton  in  later 
days,  and  many  others. 

Lord  Bacon,  who,  on  many  points  il- 
luminated the  sixteenth  with  the  light  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  after  referring  in  his 
chapter  on  prophecies  (see  his  Essays)  to 
the  fulfilment  of  many  remarkable  fulfil- 
ments, delivers  his  opinion  on  that  point 
in  the  following  words  : — "  My  judgment 
is,  that  they  ought  all  to  be  despised,  and 
ought  to  serve  but  for  winter  talk  by  the 
fireside.  Though  when  I  say  despised, 

i    mean   for  belief. That    that  hath 

given  them  grace,  and  some  credit  con- 
sisteth  in  these  things.  1st.  that  men 
mark  when  they  hit,  and  never  when  they 
miss ;  as  they  do,  also  of  dreams.  2d. 
that  probable  conjectures  and  obscure 
traditions  many  times  turn  themselves 
into  prophecies :  while  the  nature  of 
man  which  coveteth  divination,  thinks  it 
no  peril  to  foretell  that,  which  indeed 

they   do    but    collect. The    3d.   and 

last  (which  is  the  great  one)  is,  that  al- 
most all  them,  being  infinite  in  number, 
have  been  impostures,  and  by  idle  and 
crafty  brains,  merely  contrived  and 
feigned  after  the  event  passed." 

J.  W.  H. 

EASTER  DAY. 

The  editor  is  favoured  with    a    hint, 
which,    from    respect    to   the   authority 
whence    it    proceeds,    is   communicated 
below  in  its  own  language. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Harley  street,  March  22,  1826. 

Sir, — Before  I  slip  from  town  for  the 
holidays,  let  me  observe  that  it  may  be 
useful,  and  more  useful  perhaps  than  you 
imagine,  to  many  of  your  readers,  if  you 
were  to  mention  the  earliest  day  whereon 
Easter  can  occur  :  for,  as  not  only  mov- 
able feasts,  but  law  terms,  and  circuits 
of  judges,  and  the  Easter  recess  of  par- 
liament, depend  on  this  festival,  it  influ- 
ences a  vast  portion  of  public  business, 
and  of  the  every-day  concerns  of  a  great 
number  of  individuals  in  the  early  season 
of  the  year. 

The  earliest  possible  day  whereon 
Easter  can  happen,  in  any  year,  is  the 
22d  of  March.  It  fell  on  that  day  in 
1818,  and  cannot  happen  on  that  day  till 
the  year  2285. 

The  latest  possible  day  whereon  Easter 
can  happen,  is  the  25th  of  April. 


\Ye  can  have  no  squabble  th  s  year 
concerning  the  true  time  of  Easter.  The 
result  of  the  papers  on  that  subject  in  the 
first  volume  of  your  excellent  publication, 
vindicated  the  time  fixed  for  its  celebra- 
tion, in  this  country,  upon  those  principles 
which  infallibly  regulate  the  period. 

In  common  with  all  I  am  acquainted 
with,  who  have  the  pleasure  of  being 
acquainted  with  your  Every-Day  Book,  I 
wish  you  and  your  work  the  largest  pos- 
sible success.  I  am,  &c. 

ALPHA. 

P.  S.  It  occurs  to  me  that  you  may 
not  be  immediately  able  to  authenticate 
my  statement ;  and,  therefore,  I  subscribe 
my  name  for  your  private  satisfaction. 


Easter  King. 

As  the  emperor,  Charles  V.,  was  pass- 
ing through  a  small  village  in  Arragon, 
on  Easter-day,  he  was  met  by  a  peasant, 
who  had  been  chosen  the  paschal,  or 
Easter  king  of  his  neighbourhood,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  his  country,  and 
who  said  to  him  very  gravely,  "  Sir,  it  is 
I  that  am  king."  "  Much  good  may  it 
do  you,  my  friend,"  replied  the  emperor, 
"  you  have  chosen  an  exceedingly  trou-r 
blesome  employment." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  43  •  95V 


EASTER  MONDAY. 

This  is  the  day  for  choosing  church- 
wardens in  the  different  parishes,  and 
for  merry-making  afterwards. 

From  the  "  Mirror  of  the  Months." 
Now,  at  last,  the  Easter  week  is  ar- 
rived, and  the  poor  have  for  once  in  the 
year  the  best  of  it,  —  setting  all  things, 
but  their  own  sovereign  will,  at  a  wise 
defiance.  The  journeyman  who  works 
on  Easter  Monday  should  lose  his  caste, 
and  be  sent  to  the  Coventry  of  mecha- 
nics, wherever  that  may  be.  In  fact,  it 
cannot  happen.  On  Easter  Monday 
ranks  change  places;  Jobson  is  as 
good  as  sir  John  ;  the  "  rude  mecha- 
nical" is  "  monarch  of  all  he  surveys" 
from  the  summit  of  Greenwich-hill,  and 
when  he  thinks  fit  to  say  "  it  is  our  royal 
pleasure  to  be  drunk  !"  who  shall  dispute 


459 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  27. 


460 


the  proposition?  Not  I,  for  one.  When 
our  English  mechanics  accuse  their  betters 
of  oppressing  them,  the  said  betters 
should  reverse  the  old  appeal,  and  refer 
from  Philip  sober  to  Philip  drunk ;  and 
then  nothing  more  could  be  said.  But 
now,  they  have  no  betters,  even  in  their 
own  notion  of  the  matter.  And  in  the 
name  of  all  that  is  transitory,  envy  them 
not  their  brief  supremacy !  It  will  be  over 
before  the  end  of  the  week,  and  they  will 
be  as  eager  to  return  to  their  labour  as 
they  now  are  to  escape  from  it ;  for  the 
only  thing  that  an  Englishman,  whether 
high  or  low,  cannot  endure  patiently  for 
a  week  together,  is,  unmingled  amuse- 
ment. At  this  time,  however,  he  is  de- 
termined to  try.  Accordingly,  on  Easter 
Monday  all  the  narrow  lanes  and  blind 
alleys  of  our  metropolis  pour  forth  their 
dingy  denizens  into  the  suburban  fields 
and  villages,  in  search  of  the  said  amuse- 
ment, which  is  plentifully  provided  for 
them  by  another  class,  even  less  enviable 
than  the  one  on  whose  patronage  they 
depend  ;  for  of  all  callings,  the  most  me- 
lancholy is  that  of  purveyor  of  pleasure 
to  the  poor. 

During  the  Monday  our  determined 
holiday-maker,  as  in  duty  bound,  con- 
trives, by  the  aid  of  a  little  or  not  a  little 
artificial  stimulus,  to  be  happy  in  a  tolera- 
bly exemplary  manner  On  the  Tuesday, 
he  fancies  himself  happy  to-day,  because 
he  felt  himself  so  yesterday.  On  the 
Wednesday  he  cannot  tell  what  has  come 
to  him,  but  every  ten  minutes  he  wishes 
himself  at  home,  where  he  never  goes 
but  to  sleep.  On  Thursday  he  finds  out 
the  secret,  that  he  is  heartily  sick  of 
doing  nothing  ;  but  is  ashamed  to  confess 
it ;  and  then  what  is  the  use  of  going  to 
work  before  his  money  is  spent  ?  On 
Friday  he  swears  that  he  is  a  fool  for 
throwing  away  the  greatest  part  of  his 
quarter's  savings  without  having  any 
thing  to  show  for  it,  and  gets  gloriously 
drunk  with  the  rest  to  prove  his  words  ; 
passing  the  pleasantest  night  of  all  the 
week  in  a  watchhouse.  And  on  Satur- 
day, after  thanking  "his  worship"  for 
his  good  advice,  of  which  he  does  not 
remember  a  word,  he  comes  to  the  wise 
determination,  that,  after  all,  there  is 
nothing  like  working  all  day  long  in 
silence,  and  at  night  spending  his  earn- 
ings and  his  breath  in  beer  and  politics  ! 
So  much  for  the  Easter  week  of  a  London 
holiday-maker. 

But   there   is    a    sport    belonging   to 


Easter  Monday  which  is  not  confined  to 
the  lower  classes,  and  which  fun  forbid 
that  I  should  pass  over  silently.  If  the 
reader  has  not,  during  his  boyhood,  per- 
formed the  exploit  of  riding  to  the  turn- 
out of  the  stag  on  Epping-forest — follow- 
ing the  hounds  all  day  long  at  a  respect- 
ful distance-r-returning  home  in  the 
evening  with  the  loss  of  nothing  but  his 
hat,  his  hunting  whip,  and  his  horse,  not 
to  mention  a  portion  of  his  nether  person 
— and  finishing  the  day  by  joining  the 
lady  mayoress's  ball  at  the  Mansion- 
house  ;  if  the  reader  has  not  done  all  this 
when  a  boy,  I  will  not  tantalize  him  by 
expatiating  on  the  superiority  of  those  who 
have.  And  if  he  has  done  it,  I  need  not 
tell  him  that  he  has  no  cause  to  envy  his 
friend  who  escaped  with  a  flesh  wound 
from  the  fight  of  Waterloo ;  for  there  is 
not  a  pin  to  choose  between  them. 

EPPING  HUNT. 

In  1226,  king  Henry  III.  confirmed  to 
the  citizens  of  London,  free  warren,  or 
liberty  to  hunt  a  circuit  about  their  city, 
in  the  warren  of  Staines,  &c. ;  and  in 
ancient  times  the  lord  mayor,  aldermen, 
and  corporation,  attended  by  a  due  num- 
ber of  their  constituents,  availed  them- 
selves of  this  right  of  chace  "  in  solemn 
guise."  From  newspaper  reports,  it  ap- 
pears that  the  office  of  "  common  hunt," 
attached  to  the  mayoralty,  is  in  danger  of 
desuetude.  The  Epping  hunt  seems  to 
have  lost  the  lord  mayor  and  his  brethren 
in  their  corporate  capacity,  and  the  annua' 
sport  to  have  become  a  farcical  show. 

A  description  of  the  Epping  hunt  of 
Easter  Monday,  1826,  by  one  "  Simon 
Youngbuck,"  in  the  Morning  Herald,  is 
the  latest  report,  if  it  be  not  the  truest ; 
but  of  that  the  editor  of  the  Every-Day 
Book  cannot  judge,  for  he  was  not  there  to 
see  :  he  contents  himself  with  picking  out 
the  points  ;  should  any  one  be  dissatisfied 
with  the  "  hunting  of  that  day,"  as  it  will 
be  here  presented,  he  has  only  to  sit  down, 
in  good  earnest,  to  a  plain  matter-of-fact 
detail  of  all  the  circumstances  from  his 
own  knowledge,  accompanied  by  such  ci- 
tations as  will  show  the  origin  and  former 
state  of  the  usage,  and  such  a  detail,  so 
accompanied,  will  be  inserted — 

"  For  want  of  a  better  this  must-do." 
On  the  authority  aforesaid,  and  that, 
without  the  introduction  of  any  term  not 
in  the  Herald,  be  it  known  then,  that  be- 
fore, and  at  the  commencement  of  the 
hunt  aforesaid,  it  was  a  cold,  dry,  and 


461 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  27. 


46  e 


dusty  morning,  and  that  the  huntsmen  of 
the  east  were  all  abroad  by  nine  o'clock, 
trotting,  fair  and  softly,  down  the  road,  on 
great  nine-hand  skyscrapers,  nimble  daisy- 
cutting  nags,  flowing-tailed  chargers,  and 
ponies  no  bigger  than  the  learned  one  at 
Astley's ;  some  were  in  job-coaches,  at  two 
guineas  a-day ;  some  in  three-bodied  non- 
descripts, some  in  gigs,  some  in  cabs, 
some  in  drags,  some  in  short  stages,  and 
some  in  long  stages ;  while  some  on  no 
stages  at  all,  footed  the  road,  smothered 
by  dust  driven  by  a  black,  bleak  north- 
easter full  in  the  teeth.  Every  gentleman 
was  arrayed  after  his  own  particular  taste, 
in  blue,  brown,  or  black — in  dress- coats, 
long  coats,  short  coats,  frock  coats,  great 
coats,  and  no-coats  ; — in  drab-slacks  and 
slippers; — in  gray-tights,  and  black- 
spurred  Wellingtons ; — in  nankeen  bomb- 
balloons  ; — in  city-white  cotton-cord  un- 
mentionables, with  jockey  toppers,  and  in 
Russian-drill  down-belows,  as  a  memento 
of  the  late  czar.  The  ladies  all  wore  a 
goose-skin  under-dress,  in  compliment  to 
the  north-easter. 

At  that  far-famed  spot,  the  brow  above 
Fairmead  bottom,  by  twelve  o'clock,  there 
were  not  less  than  three  thousand  merry 
lieges  then  and  there  assembled.  It  was 
a  beautiful  set-out.  Fair  dames  «'  in  purple 
and  in  pall,"  reposed  in  vehicles  of  all 
sorts,  sizes,  and  conditions,  whilst  seven 
or  eight  hundred  mounted  members  of 
the  hunt  wound  in  and  out  "  in  restless 
ectasy,"  chatting  and  laughing  with  the 
fair,  sometimes  rising  in  their  stirrups  to 
look  out  for  the  long-coming  cart  of  the 
stag,  "  whilst,  with  off  heel  assiduously 
aside,"  they  "  provoked  the  caper  which 
they  seemed  to  hide."  The  green-sward 
was  covered  with  ever-moving  crowds  on 
foot,  and  the  pollard  oaks  which  skirt  the 
bottom  on  either  side  were  filled  with  men 
aud  hoys. 

But  where  the  deuce  is  the  stag  all  this 
•while  ?  One  o'clock,  and  no  stag.  Two 
o'clock,  and  no  stag ! — a  circumstance 
easily  accounted  for  by  those  who  are  in 
the  secret,  and  the  secret  is  this.  There 
are  buttocks  of  boiled  beef  and  fat  hams, 
and  beer  and  brandy  in  abundance,  at  the 
Roebuck  public-house  low  down  in  the 
forest ;  and  ditto  at  the  Baldfaced  Stag,  on 
the  top  of  the  hill ;  and  ditto  at  the  Coach 
and  Horses,  at  Woodford  Wells;  and 
ditto  at  the  Castle,  at  Woodford;  and 
ditto  at  the  Eagle,  at  Snaresbrook  ;  and 
if  the  stag  had  been  brought  out  before 
the  beef,  beer,  bacon,  and  brandy,  were 


eaten  and  drank,  where  would  have  been 
the  use  of  providing  so  many  good  things  ? 
So  they  carted  the  stag  from  public-house 
to  public-house,  and  showed  him  at  three* 
pence  a  head  to  those  ladies  and  gentle* 
men  who  never  saw  such  a  thing  before, 
and  the  showing  and  carting  induced  a 
consumption  of  eatables  and  drinkables, 
an  achievement  which  was  helped  by  a 
band  of  music  in  every  house,  playing 
hungry  tunes  to  help  the  appetite  ;  and 
then,  when  the  eatables  and  drinkables 
were  gone,  and  paid  for,  they  turned  out 
the  stag. 

Precisely  at  halt-past  two  o'clock,  the 
stag-cart  was  seen  coming  over  the  hill 
by  the  Baldfaced  Stag,  and  hundreds  of 
horsemen  and  gig-men  rushed  gallantly 
forward  to  meet  and  escort  it  to  the  top  of 
Fairmead  bottom,  amidst  such  whooping 
and  hallooing,  as  made  all  the  forest  echo 
again ;  and  would  have  done  Carl  Maria 
Von  Weber's  heart  good  to  hear.  And 
then,  when  the  cart  stopped  and  was 
turned  tail  about,  the  horsemen  drew  up 
in  long  lines,  forming  an  avenue  wide 
enough  for  the  stag  to  run  down.  For  a 
moment,  all  was  deep,  silent,  breathless 
anxiety ;  and  the  doors  of  the  cart  were 
thrown  open,  and  out  popped  a  strapping 
four-year-old  red  buck,  fat  as  a  porker, 
with  a  chaplet  of  flowers  round  his  neck, 
a  girth  of  divers  coloured  ribbons,  and  a 
long  blue  and  pink  streamer  depending 
from  the  summit  of  his  branching  horns. 
He  was  received,  on  his  alighting,  with  a 
shout  that  seemed  to  shake  heaven's  con- 
cave, and  took  it  very  graciously,  looking 
round  him  with  great  dignity  as  he  stalked 
slowly  and  delicately  forward,  down  the 
arenue  prepared  for  him  ;  and  occasionally 
shrinking  from  side  to  side,  as  some  super- 
valorous  cockney  made  a  cut  at  him  with 
his  whip.  Presently,  he  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  hounds  and  the  huntsmen,  waiting 
for  him  at  the  bottom,  and  in  an  instant 
off  he  bounded,  sideways,  through  the 
rank,  knocking  down  and  trampling  all 
who  crowded  the  path  he  chose  to  take ; 
and  dashing  at  once  into  the  cover,  he 
was  ought  of  sight  before  a  man  could 
say  "  Jack  Robinson  !"  Then  might  be 
seesi,  gentlemen  running  about  without 
their  horses,  and  horses  galloping  about 
without  their  gentlemen  ;  and  hats  out  of 
number  brushed  off  their  owners'  heads  by 
the  rude  branches  of  the  trees ;  and  every 
body  asking  which  way  the  stag  was  gone, 
and  nobody  knowing  any  thing  about  him ; 
and  ladies  beseeching  gentlemen  not  to 


463 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  27. 


464 


be  too  venturesome;  and  gentlemen 
gasping  for  breath  at  the  thoughts  of  what 
they  were  determined  to  venture ;  and 
myriads  of  people  on  foot  running  hither 
and  thither  in  search  of  little  eminences 
to  look  from ;  and  yet  nothing  at  all  to 
be  seen,  though  more  than  enough  to  be 
heard ;  for  every  man,  and  every  woman 
too,  made  as  loud  a  noise  as  possible. 
Meanwhile  the  stag,  followed  by  the 
keepers  and  about  six  couple  of  hounds, 


took  away  through  the  covers  towards 
Woodford.  Finding  himself  too  near  the 
haunts  of  his  enemy,  man,  he  there  turned 
back,  sweeeping  down  the  bottom  for  a 
mile  or  two,  and  away  up  the  enclosures 
towards  Chingford ;  where  he  was  caught 
nobody  knows  how,  for  every  body  re- 
turned to  town,  except  those  who  stopped 
to  regale  afresh,  and  recount  the  glorious 
perils  of  the  day.  Thus  ended  the 
Easter  Hunt  of  1826. 


JWfnerba. 

From  a  Chrysolite  possessed  by  Lord  Montague. 


The  Minervalia  was  a  Roman  festival 
in  March,  commencing  on  the  19th  of 
the  month,  and  lasting  for  five  days. 
The  first  day  was  spent  in  devotions 
to  the  goddess;  the  rest  in  offering 
sacrifices,  seeing  the  gladiators  fight,  ' 
acting  tragedies,  and  reciting  witticisms 
for  prizes.  It  conferred  a  vacation  on 
scholars  who  now,  carried  schooling 
money,  or  presents,  called  Minerval,  to 
their  masters. 

According  to   Cicero  there  were  five 
Minervas. 

1 .  Minerva,  the  mother  of  Apollo. 

2.  Minerva,  the  offspring  of  the  Nile, 
of  whom  there  was  a  statue  with  this  in- 
scription : — "  I  am  all  that  was,  is,  and  is 
lo   come ;  and  my  veil  no  mortal  hath 
yet  removed." 

3.  Minerva,  who  sprung  armed   from 
Jupiter's  brain. 


4.  Minerva,  the   daughter  of  Jupiter 
and  Corypha,  whose  father  Oceanus  in- 
vented four-wheeled  chariots. 

5.  Minerva,  the  daughter  of  Pallantis, 
who  fled  from  her  father,  and  is,  therefore, 
represented  with  wings  on  her  feet,  in  the 
same  manner  as  Mercury. 

The  second  Minerva,  of  Egypt,  is  ima- 
gined to  have  been  the  most  ancient. 
The  Phoenicians  also  had  a  Minerva,  the 
daughter  of  Saturn,  and  the  inventress  of 
arts  and  arms.  From  one  of  these  two, 
the  Greeks  derived  their  Minerva. 

Minerva  was  worshipped  by  the  Athe- 
nians before  the  age  of  Cecrops,  in 
whose  time  Athens  was  founded,  and  its 
name  taken  from  Minerva,whom  the  Greek 
called  'A^J/TJ.  It  was  proposed  to  call 
the  city  either  by  her  name  or  that  of 
Neptune,  and  as  each  had  partizans,  and 
the  women  had  votes  equal  to  *he  men, 


465 


THE  EVERV-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  27. 


466 


Cecrops  called  all  the  citizens  together 
both  men  and  women ;  the  suffrages 
were  collected  ;  and  it  was  found  that 
all  the  women  had  voted  for  Minerva,  and 
all  the  men  for  Neptune;  but  the 


women  exceeding  the  men  by  one  voice, 
Athens  was  called  after  Minerva,  A 
temple  was  dedicated  to  her  in  the  city, 
with  her  statue  in  gold  and  ivory,  thirty- 
nine  feet  high,  executed  by  Phydias. 


"  Life  is  darken'd  o'er  with  woe." — Der  FrnischHtz. 

*  JHattftttosf  at  &omt,  1826. 


It  would  be  as  difficult  for  most  persons, 
who  think  Mr.  Matthews  acts  easily,  to 
act  as  he  does,  as  it  would  be  difficult  to 
make  such  persons  comprehend,  that  his 
ease  is  the  result  of  labour,  and  that  his 
present  performance  is  the  result  of  greater 
labour  than  his  exhibitions  of  former  years. 
An  examination  of  the  process  by  which 
he  has  attained  the  extraordinary  ability 
to  "  command  success,"  would  be  a  fatigu- 
ing inquiry  to  most  readers,  though  a  very 
curious  one  to  some.  He  has  been  called 
a  "  mimic ;"  this  is  derogation  from  his 
real  powers,  which  not  only  can  represent 
the  face,  but  penetrate  the  intellect.  An 
expert  swimmer  is  not  always  a  successful 
diver :  Mr.  Matthews  is  both.  His  fa- 
culty of  observation  "  surpasses  show." 


He  leaves  the  features  he  contemplates, 
enters  into  the  mind,  becomes  joint  tenant 
of  its  hereditaments  and  appurtenances 
with  the  owner,  and  describes  its  secret 
chambers  and  closets.  This  faculty  ob- 
tained lord  Chesterfield  his  fame,  and 
enabled  him  to  persuade  the  judgment ; 
but  he  never  succeeded  by  his  voice  or  pen 
in  raising  the  passions,  like  Mr.  Mat- 
thews, who,  in  that  respect,  is  above  the 
nobleman.  The  cause  of  this  superiority 
is,  that  Mr.  Matthews  is  the  creature 
of  feeling — of  excitation  and  depression. 
This  assertion  is  made  without  the 
slightest  personal  knowledge  or  even  sight 
of  him  offthe  stage ;  it  is  grounded  on  a 
generalized  view  of  some  points  in  human 
nature.  If  Mr.  Matthews  were  not  the  slave 


467 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  27. 


468 


of  temperament,  he  never  could  have  pic- 
tared  the  Frenchman  at  the  Post  Office, 
nor  the  gaming  Yorkshireman.  These  are 
prominences  seized  by  his  whole  audience, 
on  whom,  however,  his  most  delicate 
touches  of  character  are  lost.  His  high  finish 
of  the  Irish  beggar  woman  with  her  "  poor 
child/'  was  never  detected  by  the  laughers 
at  their  trading  duett  of  "  Sweet  Home  !" 
The  exquisite  pathos  of  the  crathurs  story 
was  lost.  To  please  a  large  assemblage 
the  points  must  be  broad.  Mr.  Mat- 
thews's  countenance  of  his  host  drawing 
the  cork  is  an  excellence  that  discovers 
itself,  and  the  entire  affair  of  the  dinner  is 
"  pleasure  made  easy"  to  the  meanest  ca- 
pacity. The  spouting  child  who  sings  the 
"  Bacchanal  Song"  in  "  Der  Freischiitz" 
from  whence  the  engraving  is  taken,  is 
another  "  palpable  hit,"  but  amazingly  in- 
creased in  force  to  some  of  the  many 
who  heard  it  sung  by  Phillips.  The 
"  tipsy  toss"  of  that  actor's  head,  his  rol- 
locking  look,  his  stamps  in  its  chorus,  and 
the  altogetherness  of  his  style  in  that 
single  song,  were  worth  the  entirety  of 
the  drama  —  ye:  he  was  seldom  encored. 
To  conclude  with  Mr.  Matthews,  it  is 
merely  requisite  to  affirm  that  his  "At 
Home"  in  the  year  1826,  evinces  rarer 
talent  than  the  merit  of  a  higher  order 
which  he  unquestionably  possesses.  He 
is  an  adept  at  adaptation  beyond  com- 


COLESHIT.L  CUSTOM. 
They  have  an  ancient  custom  at  Coles- 
hill,  in  the  county  of  Warwick,  that  if  the 
young  men  of  the  town  can  catch  a  hare, 
and  bring  it  to  the  parson  of  the  parish 
before  ten  o'clock  on  Easter  Monday,  the 
parson  is  bound  to  give  them  a  calve's 
head,  and  a  hundred  eggs  for  their  break- 
fast, and  a  groat  in  money.* 

RIDING  THE  BLACK  LAD. 
An   account  of  an  ancient  usage  still 
maintained  under  this  name  at  Ashton- 
under-Lyne,   will  be   found  in   the   an- 
nexed letter. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Ashton-under-Lyne,  March,  1826. 
Sir, 

A  singular  custom  prevails  at  this  town 
on  Easter  Monday.  Every  year  on  that  day 
a  rude  figure  of  a  man  made  of  an  old  suit 
of  clothes  stuffed  with  rags,  hay,  &c.  is 
carried  OO  a  horse  through  all  the  streets. 

*  Blount. 


The  people  who  attend  it  call  at  everv 
public-house,  for  the  purpose  of  begging 
liquor  for  its  thirsty  attendants,  who  are 
always  numerous.  During  its  progress 
the  figure  is  shot  at  from  all  parts.  When 
the  journey  is  finished,  it  is  tied  to  the 
market  cross,  and  the  shooting  is  conti- 
nued till  it  is  set  on  fire,  and  falls  to  the 
ground.  The  populace  then  commence 
tearing  the  effigy  in  pieces,  trampling  it  in 
mud  and  water,  and  throwing  it  in  every 
direction.  This  riot  and  confusion  are 
increased  by  help  of  a  reservoir  of  water 
being  let  off,  which  runs  down  the  streets, 
and  not  unfrequently  persons  obtain  large 
quantities  of  hay,  rags,  &c.  independent 
of  that  which  falls  from  the  effigy.  The 
greatest  heroes  at  this  time  are  of  'the 
coarsest  nature. 

The  origin  of  this  custom  is  of  so  an- 
cient a  nature  that  it  admits  of  no  real 
explanation :  some  assert  that  it  is  intended 
as  a  mark  of  respect  to  an  ancient  family 
— others  deem  it  a  disrespect.  Dr.  Hib- 
bert  considers  it  to  have  the  same  mean- 
ing as  the  gool-riding  in  Scotland,  estab- 
lished for  the  purpose  of  exterminating 
weed  from  corn,  on  pain  of  forfeiting  a 
wether  sheep  for  every  stock  of  gool  found 
growing  in  a  farmer 'scorn.  Gool  is  the 
yellow  flower  called  the  corn  Marygold. 

It  is  further  supposed,  that  this  custom 
originated  with  one  of  the  Assheton's,  who 
possessed  a  considerable  landed  property 
in  this  part  of  Lancashire.  He  was  vice- 
chancellor  to  Henry  VI.,  who  exercised 
great  severity  on  his  own  lands,  and  esta- 
blished the  gool  or  guld  riding.  He  is 
said  to  have  made  his  appearance  on 
Easter  Monday,  clad  in  black  armour,  and 
on  horseback,  followed  by  a  numerous 
train  for  the  purpose  of  claiming  the 
penalties  arising  from  the  neglect  of 
farmers  clearing  their  corn  of  the  "  carr 
gulds."  The  tenants  looked  upon  this 
visit  with  horror,  and  tradition  has  still 
perpetuated  the  prayer  that  was  offered 
for  a  deliverance  from  his  power  : — 

"  Sweet  Jesu,  for  thy  mercy's  sake, 
And  for  thy  bitter  passion  ; 

Save  us  from  the  axe  of  the  Tower, 
And  from  Sir  Ralph  of  Assheton. 

It  is  alleged  that,  on  one  of  his  visits  on 
Easter  Monday,  he  was  shot  as  he  was 
riding  down  the  principal  street,  and  that 
the  tenants  took  no  trouble  to  find  out  the 
murderer,  but  entered  into  a  subscription, 
the  interest  of  which  was  to  make  an  effigy 
of  disgrace  to  his  memory.  At  the  pre- 
sent day,  however,  the  origin  is  never 


403 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK—MARCH  27. 


thought  of.  The  money  is  now  derived 
from  publicans  whose  interest  it  is  to 
keep  up  the  custom.  An  old  steel  helmet 
was  used  some  years  ago,  but  it  is  now  no 
more;  a  tin  one  is  used  instead. 

This  custom  is  applied  to  another  pur- 
pose. The  occupation  of  the  last  couple 
married  in  the  old  year  are  represented  on 
the  effigy.  If  a.  tailor,  the  shears  hang 
dangling  by  his  side;  if  a  draper,  the 
cloth  yard,  and  so  on.  The  effigy  then  at 
the  usual  time  visits  the  happy  couple's 
door,  and  unless  the  bearers  are  fed  in  a 
handsome  manner,  the  dividing  gentle- 
men are  not  easily  got  rid  of.  Some 
authors  state  that  it  is  the  first  couple  in 
the  new  year;  but  this  is  incorrect,  as  there 
is  always  great  pressing  for  marrying  on 
new  year's  day,  in  order  to  be  sufficiently 
early  in  the  year. 

Such  is  the  custom  of  Blake  Lad  Monday 
— or  Riding  theBlack  Lad,  a  custom  which 
thousands  annually  witness,  and  numbers 
come  from  great  distances  to  see.  It  is 
the  most  thronged,  and  the  most  foolish, 
day  the  Ashtonians  can  boast  of. 

C.  C G.   M.  R.  C.  S.  E. 

It  is  observed  by  the  historian  of 
"  Manchester  and  Salford,"  that  the  most 
prevalent  of  several  traditions,  as  to  the 
origin  of  this  custom,  is,  that  it  is  kept  up 
to  perpetuate  the  disgraceful  actions  of  sir 
Ralph  Ashton,  who  in  the  year  1483,  as 
vice-constable  of  the  kingdom,  exercised 
great  severity  in  this  part  of  the  country. 
From  a  sum  issued  out  of  the  court  to  de- 
fray the  expense  of  the  effigy,  and  from  a 
suit  of  armour,  which  till  of  late  it  usually 
rode  in,  together  with  other  traditional 
particulars,  there  is  another  account  of  the 
custom.  According  to  this,  in  the  reign 
of  Edward  III.,  at  the  battle  of  Neville's 
Cross,  near  Durham,  his  queen,  with  the 
earl  of  Northumberland  as  general,  gained 
a  complete  victory  over  the  Scots,  under 
David,  king  of  Scotland,  and  in  this  battle 
one  Thomas  Ashton  of  Ashton-under- 
Lyne,  of  whom  no  other  particulars  are 
known,  served  in  the  queen's  army,  rode 
through  the  ranks  of  the  enemy,  and  bore 
away  the  royal  standard  from  the  Scottish 
king's  tent.  For  this  act  of  heroism,  Ed- 
ward III.  knighted  him;  he  became  sir 
Thomas  Ashton,  of  Ashton-under-Lyne; 
and  to  commemorate  his  valour,  he  insti- 
tuted the  custom  above  described,  and  left 
ten  shillings  yearly  (since  reduced  to  five) 
to  support  it,  with  his  own  suit  of  black 


470 

velvet,  and  a  coat  of  mail,ihe  nelmet  of 
which  yet  remains."*  It  will  be  observed 
in  our  correspondent's  account,  that  the 
helmet  has  at  last  disappeared. 

"OLD  VINEGAR," 

and 

"  Hard  Metal  Spoons." 
William  Conway,   who   cried    "  hard 
metal  spoons  to  sell  or  change,"  is  men- 
tioned by  Mr.  J.T.'Smith,  as  "  a   man 
whose  cry  is  well-known  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  London  and  its  environs ;"  but 
since  Mr.  Smith  wrote,  the  "  cry"  of  Con- 
way  has  ceased  from  the  metropolis,  and 
from  the  remembrance  of  all,  save  a  few 
surviving  observers  of  the   manners   in 
humble   life  that   give  character    to  the 
times.     He  is  noticed   here   because  he 
introduces  another  individual  connected 
with  the  history  of  the  season.     Adopt- 
ing Mr.  Smith's  language,  we  must  speak 
of  Conway    as  though  his  "  cry"  were 
still  with  us.     "  This  industrious  man, 
who  has  eleven  walks  in  and  about  Lon- 
don, never  had  a  day's  illness,  nor  has 
once  slept  out  of  his  own  bed ;  and  let 
the  weather  be  what  it  may,  he  trudges 
on,  and  only  takes  his  rest  on  Sundays. 
He  walks,  on  an  average,  twenty-five  miles 
a  day  ;    and  this  he  has  done  for  nearly 
forty -four  years.     His   shoes  are   made 
-rom  old  boots,   and  a  pair  will  last  him 
about  six  weeks.     In  his  walks  he  has 
frequently  found  small  pieces  of  money, 
out  never  more  than  a  one  pound  note. 
He   recollects  a  windmill  standing  near 
Moorfields,    and    well    remembers    Old 
Vinegar:^     Without  this  notice  of  Con- 
way,   we  should  not  have  known  "  Old 
Vinegar,"  who  made   the    rings  for  the 
boxers  in  Moorfields,  beating   the  shins 
of  the  spectators,  and  who,  after  he  had 
arranged  the  circle,  would  cry  out  "  mind 
your  pockets  all  round."     He  provided 
sticks   for    the   cudgel    players,    whose 
sports  commenced  on  Easter  Monday.  At 
that  time  the  "Bridewell  boys"  joined 
in  the  pastime,  and  enlivened  the  day  by 
their  skill  in  athletic  exercises. 


WETTING  THE  BLOCK. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The   first  Monday  in  March  beine  the 

time  when   shoemakers   in   the   country 

cease   from   working   by   candlelight,   it 

*  Aikin's  Manchester. 

•f  Smith's    Ancient    Topography    ?f     tvondon, 
.815,  4to. 


471 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— MARCH  28,  29. 


472 


used  to  be  customary  for  them  to  meet 
together  in  the  evening  for  the  purpose 
of  wetting  the  block.  On  these  occasions 
Ihe  master  either  provided  a  supper  for 
bis  men,  or  made  them  a  present  of 
money  or  drink ;  the  rest  of  the  expense 
•was  defrayed  by  subscriptions  among 
themselves,  and  sometimes  by  donations 
from  customers.  After  the  supper  was 
ended,  the  block  candlestick  was  placed 
in  the  midst,  the  shop  candle  was  lighted, 
and  all  the  glasses  being  filled,  the  oldest 
hand  in  the  shop  poured  the  contents  of 
his  glass  over  the  candle  to  extinguish  it : 
the  rest  then  drank  the  contents  of  theirs 
standing,  and  gave  three  cheers.  The 
meeting  was  usually  kept  to  a  late  hour. 

This  account  of  the  custom  is  from 
personal  observation,  made  many  years 
ago,  in  various  parts  of  Hampshire,  Berk- 
shire, and  the  adjoining  counties.  It  is 
now  growing  into  disuse,  which  I  think 
is  not  to  be  regretted ;  for,  as  it  is  mostly 
a  very  drunken  usage,  the  sooner  it  is 
sobered,  or  becomes  altogether  obsolete  the 
better. 

A  SHOEMAKER. 

N.B.  In  some  places  this  custom  took 
place  on  Easter  Monday. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  45  •  32. 

jKarcft  28. 

EASTER  TUESDAY. 

Formerly,  "  in  the  Easter  holidays, 
was  the  Clarke's-ale  for  his  private  bene- 
fit, and  the  solace  of  the  neighbourhood."* 
Our  ancestors  were  abundant  drinkers; 
they  had  their  "  bride-ales,"  church-ales," 
and  other  sort  of  ales,  and  their  feats  of 
potation  were  so  great  as  to  be  surprising 
to  their  posterity ;  the  remainder  of  whom, 
in  good  time,  shall  be  more  generally  in- 
formed of  these  regular  drinking  bouts. 
"  Easter-ale"  was  not  always  over  with 
Easter  week.  Excessive  fasting  begat 
excessive  feasting,  and  there  was  no  feast 
in  old  times  without  excessive  drinking. 
A  morning  head-ache  from  the  contents 
of  the  tankard  was  cured  by  "  a  hair  of 
the  same  dog," — a  phrase  well  under- 
stood by  hard -drinkers,  signifying  that 
madness  from  drinking  was  to  be  cured 
by  the  madness  of  drinking  again.  It  is 
in  common  use  with  drinkers  of  punch. 


Aubrey. 


Some  of  the  days  in  this  month  3eem 

"  For    talking  age  and  youthful  lovers 
made." 

The  genial  breezes  animate  declining  life, 
and  waft  "  visions  of  glory"  to  those 
who  are  about  to  travel  the  journey  ot 
existence  on  their  own  account.  In  the 
following  lines,  which,  from  the  "  Lady's 
Scrap  Book,"  whence  they  were  extracted, 
appear  to  have  been  communicated  to  her 
on  this  day,  by  a  worthy  old  gentleman 
"  of  the  old  school/'  there  is  a  touch  of 
satirical  good  humour,  that  may  heighten 
cheerfulness. 

No  FLATTERY 
From  J.  M Esq. 


To  Miss  H 


W- 


March  28,  1825. 

I  never  said  thy  face  was  fair, 
Thy  cheeks  with  beauty  glowing  ; 

Nor  whispered  that  thy  woodland  air 
With  grace  was  overflowing. 

I  never  said  thy  teeth  were  white, 
In  hue  were  snow  excelling ; 

Nor  called  thine  eye,  so  blue,  so  bright, 
Young  Love's  celestial  dwelling. 

I  never  said  thy  voice  so  soft, 
Soft  heart  but  ill  concealing ; 

Nor  praised  thy  sparkling  glances  oft, 
So  well  thy  thoughts  revealing. 

T  never  said  thy  taper  form 

Was,  Hannah,  more  than  handsome  ; 
Nor  said  thy  heart,  so  young,  so  warm, 

Was  worth  a  monarch's  ransom. 

I  never  said  to  young  or  old 

I  felt  no  joy  without  thee  : 
jVo,  Hannah,  «o,  I  never  told 

A  single  lie  about  thee. 


NATURALISTS7   CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  45  •  70. 


29. 


MARCH  MORNINGS. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
There  are  frequently  mornings  in 
March,  when  a  lover  of  nature  may  enjoy, 
in  a  stroll,  sensations  not  to  be  exceeded, 
or,  perhaps,  equalled  by  any  thing  which 
the  full  glory  of  summer  can  awaken  :  — 
mornings,  which  tempt  us  to  cast  the  me- 
mory of  winter,  or  the  fear  of  its  recur- 
rence out  of  our  thoughts.  The  air  is 
mild  and  balmy,  with,  now  and  then,  a 


473 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  30. 


474 


oool  gush  by  no  means  unpleasant,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  contributing  towards  that 
cheering  and  peculiar  feeling  which  we 
experience  only  in  spring.  The  sky  is 
clear,  the  sun  flings  abroad  not  only  a 
gladdening  splendour,  but  an  almost  sum- 
mer glow.  The  world  seems  suddenly 
aroused  to  hope  and  enjoyment.  The 
fields  are  assuming  a  vernal  greenness, — 
the  buds  are  swelling  in  the  hedges, — the 
banks  are  displaying  amidst  the  brown 
remains  of  last  year's  vegetation,  the 
luxuriant  weeds  of  this.  There  are  arums, 
ground-ivy,  chervil,  the  glaucous  leaves, 
and  burnished  flowers  of  the  pilewort, 

"  The  first  gilt  thing, 
Which  wears  the  trembling  pearls  of  spring;" 

and  many  another  fresh  and  early  burst  of 
greenery.  All  unexpectedly  too,  in  some 
embowered  lane,  you  are  arrested  by  the 
delicious  odour  of  violets — thosp  sweetest 
of  Flora's  children,  which  have  urnished 
so  many  pretty  allusions  to  the  poets,  and 
which  are  not  yet  exhausted;  they  are 
like  true  friends,  we  do  not  know  half 
their  sweetness  till  they  have  felt  the  sun- 
shine of  our  kindness ;  and  again,  they 
are  like  the  pleasures  of  our  childhood, 
the  earliest  and  the  most  beautiful.  Now, 
however,  they  are  to  be  seen  in  all  their 
glory — blue  and  white — modestly  peering 
through  their  thickly  clustering  leaves. 
The  lark  is  carolling  in  the  blue  fields  of 
air;  the  blackbird  and  thrush  are  again 
shouting  and  replying  to  each  other  from 
the  tops  of  the  highest  trees.  As  you  pass 
cottages,  they  have  caught  the  happy  in- 
fection. There  are  windows  thrown  open, 
and  doors  standing  a-jar.  The  inhabitants 
are  in  their  gardens,  some  cleaning  away 
rubbish,  some  turning  up  the  light  and 
fresh-smelling  soil  amongst  the  tufts  of 
snowdrops  and  rows  of  glowing  yellow 
crocus?  s,  which  every  where  abound  ;  and 
the  children,  ten  to  one,  are  busy  peeping 
into  the  first  bird's-nest  of  the  season— the 
hedge-sparrow's,  with  its  four  blue  eggs, 
snugly,  but  unwisely,  built  in  the  pile  of 
old  pea-rods. 

In  the  fields  the  labourers  are  plashing 
and  trimming  the  hedges,  and  in  all 
directions  are  teams  at  plough.  You 
smell  the  wholesome,  and  we  may  truly 
say,  aromatic  soil,  as  it  is  turned  up  to  the 
sun,  brown  and  rich,  the  whole  country 
over  It  is  delightful  as  you  pass  along 
dtep  hollow  lanes,  or  are  hidden  in 
copses,  to  hear  the  tinkling  gears  of  the 
horses,  and  the  clear  voices  of  the  lads 


calling  to  them.  It  is  not  less  pleasant 
to  catch  the  busy  caw  of  the  rookery,  and 
the  first  meek  cry  of  the  young  lambs. 
The  hares  are  hopping  about  the  fields, 
the  excitement  of  the  season  overcoming 
their  habitual  timidity.  The  bees  are  re- 
velling in  the  yellow  catkins  of  the  sallow. 
The  woods,  though  yet  unadorned  with 
their  leafy  garniture,  are  beautiful  to 
look  on.  They  seem  flushed  with  life. 
Their  boughs  are  of  a  clear  and  glossy 
lead  colour,  and  the  tree-tops  are  rich 
with  the  vigorous  hues  of  brown,  red,  and 
purple ;  and  if  you  plunge  into  their  soli- 
tudes, there  are  symptoms  of  revivifica- 
tion under  your  feet,  the  springing  mer- 
cury, and  green  blades  of  the  blue-bells — 
and  perhaps,  above  you,  the  early  nest  of 
the  missel-thrush  perched  between  the 
boughs  of  a  young  oak,  to  tinge  your 
thoughts  with  the  anticipation  of  summer. 

These  are  mornings  not  to  be  neglected 
by  the  lover  of  nature ;  and  if  not  neg- 
lected, then,  not  to  be  forgotten,  for  they 
will  stir  the  springs  of  memory,  and  make 
us  live  over  again  times  and  seasons,  in 
which  we  cannot,  for  the  pleasure  and  the 
purity  of  our  spirits,  live  too  much. 

Nottingham.  W.  H. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  45  •  12. 


so. 

KITTY  FISHER. 

On  the  30th  of  March,  1 759,  this  cele- 
brated female  issued  a  singular  advertise- 
ment through  the  "  Public  Advertiser^ 
which  shows  her  sensitiveness  to  public 
opinion.  She  afterwards  became  duchess 
of  Bolton. 

TO  ERR  is  a  blemish  entailed  upon 
mortality,  and  indiscretion  sel- 
dom or  never  escapes  without  censure, 
the  more  heavy,  as  the  character  is 
more  remarkable ;  and  doubled,  nay 
trebled,  by  the  world,  if  that  character  is 
marked  by  success :  then  malice  shoots 
against  it  all  her  stings,  and  the  snakes  of 
envy  are  let  loose.  To  the  humane  and 
generous  heart  then  must  the  injured  ap- 
peal, and  certain  relief  will  be  found  ir. 
impartial  honour.  Miss  Fisher  is  forced 
to  sue  to  that  jurisdiction  to  protect  her 
from  the  baseness  of  little  scribblers,  and 
scurvy  malevolence.  She  has  been  abused 


475 


THE  E  VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  31. 


476 


in  public  papers,  exposed  in  print  shops, 
and,  to  wind  up  the  whole,  some  wretches, 
mean,  ignorant,  and  renal,  would  impose 
upon  the  public  by  daring  to  publish  her 
memoirs.  She  hopes  to  prevent  the  suc- 
cess of  their  endeavours,  by  declaring 
that  nothing  of  that  sort  has  the  slightest 
foundation  in  truth. 

C.  FISHER. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  44  •  67. 


31. 


JOHN  HAMPDEN. 

This  celebrated  man  wrote  a  letter  to 
sir  John  Elliott,  on  this  day,  in  the  year 
1631,  which  is  deposited  in  the  British 


Museum.*  At  its  date,  which  was  long 
before  "  the  troubles  of  England,"  where- 
in he  bore  a  distinguished  part,  it 
appears  that  he  was  absorbed  by 
constant  avocation,  and  attention  to  the 
business  of  others.  The  letter  has  been 
obligingly  transcribed  and  communicated 
by  our  kind  correspondent,  T.  A.  It  is 
curious  from  its  style  and  sentiments, 
and  is  here  printed,  because  it  has  not 
before  been  published.  The  commencing 
and  concluding  words  are  g.'ven  /ac- 
sinrile,  from  the  original.  It  is  addressed 
thus, 

To  my  honoured  and 

deare  friend  Sr. 

JOHN  ELLIOTT  at 

his  lodging  in 

the  Toiver. 

•  Addit.  MSS.  5016. 


Tis  well  for  mee  that  letters  cannot  blush,  else  you  would  easily  reade  mee  guilty. 
I  am  ashamed  of  so  long  a  silence  and  know  not  how  to  excuse  it,  for  as  nothing 
but  businesse  can  speake  for  mee,  of  wcb  kinde  I  have  many  advocates,  so  can  I  not 
tell  how  to  call  any  businesse  greater  than  holding  an  affectionate  correspondence 
with  so  excellent  a  friend.  My  only  confidence  is  I  pleade  at  a  barr  of  loue,  where 
absolutions  are  much  more  frequent  then  censures.  Sure  I  ame  that  conscience  of 
neglect  doth  not  accuse  mee ;  though  euidence  of  fact  doth.  I  would  add  more  but 
ya  entertainment  of  a  straunger  friend  calls  upon  mee,  and  one  other  unsuitable 
occasion  hold  mee  excused :  therefore,  deare  friend,  and  if  you  vouchsafe  mee  a 
letter,  lett  mee  begg  of  you  to  teach  mee  some  thrift  of  time ;  that  I  may  imploy 
more  in  yo*  service  who  will  ever  bee 


Hampd. 
March  31, 
163t. 


Command  my  service  to 
y«  souldierif  not  gone 
to  his  colours. 


THE  SUN  IN  MARCH. 
We  may  now  see  the  great  luminary 


at  half-past  five  in  the  morning  if  "  we 
shake  off  dull  sloth,"  and  set  our  faces 


477 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MARCH  31. 


478 


to  be  greeted  by  his,  at  his  rising,  in  the 
open  air.  Lying  a  bed  is  a  sad  destroyer 
of  health,  and  getting  up  early  a  vast  im- 
prover of  time.  It  is  an  old  and  a  true 
saying,  that  "an  hour  in  the  morning 
before  breakfast,  is  worth  two  all  the  rest 
of  the  day." 

In  "The  Examiner"  of  the  31  st  of  March, 
1822,  there  is  the  following  pleasant  little 
story. 

THE  WONDERFUL  PHYSICIAN. 
One  morning  at  daybreak  a  father  came 
into  his  son's  bedchamber,  and  told  him 
that  a  wonderful  stranger  was  to  be  seen. 
"  You  are  sick,"  said  he,  "  and  fond  of 
great  shows.  Here  are  no  quack-doctors 
now,  nor  keeping  of  beds.  A  remarkable 
being  is  announced  all  over  the  town, 
who  not  only  heals  the  sick,  but  makes 
the  very  grass  grow ;  and  what  is  more, 
he  is  to  rise  out  of  the  sea."  The  boy, 
though  he  was  of  a  lazy  habit,  and  did 
not  like  to  be  waked,  jumped  up  at  hear- 
ing of  such  an  extraordinary  exhibition, 
and  hastened  with  his  father  to  the  door 
of  the  house,  which  stood  upon  the  sea- 
shore. "  There,"  said  the  father,  pointing 
to  the  sun,  which  at  that  moment  sprung 
out  of  the  ocean  like  a  golden  world, 
"  there,  foolish  boy,  you  who  get  me  so 
many  expenses  with  your  lazy  diseases, 
and  yourself  into  so  many  troubles, 
behold  at  last  a  remedy,  cheap,  certain, 
and  delightful.  Behold  at  last  a  physi- 
cian, who  has  only  to  look  in  your  face 
every  morning  at  this  same  hour,  and  you 
will  be  surely  well." 


PROVINCIAL  MEDICAL  PRACTICE. 

Country  people  who  are  unusually 
plain  in  notion,  and  straight  forward  in 
conduct,  frequently  commit  the  care  of 
their  health  to  'very  odd  sort  of  practi- 
tioners. 

A  late  celebrated  empiric,  in  York- 
shire, called  the  Whitworth  Doctor,  was 
of  so  great  fame  as  to  have  the  honour  of 
attending  the  brother  of  lord  Thurlow. 
The  name  of  this  doctor  was  Taylor: 
he  and  his  brother  were  farriers  by  pro- 
fession, and  to  the  last,  if  both  a  two- 
legged  and  a  four-legged  patient  were 
presented  at  the  same  time,  the  doctor 
always  preferred  the  four-legged  one. 
Their  practice  was  immense,  as  may  be 
well  imagined  from  the  orders  they  gave 
the  druggist ;  they  dealt  principally  w.itn 


Ewbank  and  Wallis,  of  York,  and  a  ton 
of  Glauber's  salt,  with  other  articles  in 
proportion,  was  their  usual  order.  On  a 
Sunday  morning  the  doctors  used  to  bleed 
gratis.  The  patients,  often  to  the  number 
of  an  hundred,  were  seated  on  benches 
round  a  room,  where  troughs  were  placed 
to  receive  the  blood.  One  of  the  doctors 
then  went  and  tied  up  the  arm  of  each 
patient,  and  was  immediately  followed  by 
the  other  who  opened  the  vein.  Such  a 
scene  is  easier  conceived  than  described. 
From  their  medical  practice,  the  nice 
formality  of  scales  and  weights  was  ba- 
nished ;  all  was  "  rule  of  thumb"  An 
example  of  their  practice  may  elucidate 
their  claim  to  celebrity  :  being  sent  for  to 
a  patient  who  was  in  the  last  stage  of  a 
consumption,  the  learned  doctor  prescribed 
a  leg  of  mutton  to  be  boiled  secundum 
artem,  into  very  strong  broth,  a  quart  of 
which  was  to  be  taken  at  proper  inter- 
vals :  what  might  have  been  its  success 
is  not  to  be  related,  as  the  patient  died 
before  the  first  dose  was  got  down.  As 
bone-setters  they  were  remarkably  skilful, 
and,  perhaps,  to  their  real  merit  in  this, 
and  the  cheapness  of  their  medicines,  they 
were  indebted  for  their  great  local  fame. 


The  "Public  Ledger"  of  the  31st   oi 
March,  1 825,  contains 

A  crooked  Coincidence. 
A  pamphlet  published  in  the  year 
1703,  has  the  following  strange  title: — 
"  The  deformity  of  sin  cured,  a  sermon, 
preached  at  St.  Michael's,  Crooked  Lane, 
before  the  Prince  of  Orange  ;  by  the  Rev. 
James  Crookshanks.  Sold  by  Matthew 
Dowton,  at  the  Crooked  Billet,  near 
Cripplegate,  and  by  all  other  Booksel- 
lers." The  words  of  the  text  are,  "  Every 
crooked  path  shall  be  made  straight.'* 
The  Prince  before  whom  it  was  preached 
was  deformed  in  his  person. 

A  SEASONABLE  EPITAPH 

on  the  late 
J.  C.  MARCH,  Esq. 

Death  seemed  so  envious  of  my  clay, 
He  bade  me  march  and  marched  away ; 
Now  underneath  the  vaulted  arch, 
My  corpse  must  change  to  dust  and  March, 
J.R.  P. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  44  •  22. 


479 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL. 


430 


APRIL. 

On  April,  in  old  kalendars,  is  drawn 

A  gallant  hawker,  pacing  on  a  lawn, 

Holding  a  bell'd  and  hooded  fowl  of  prey, 

Ready  to  loose  him  in  the  airy  way. 

For  daily,  now,  descends  the  solar  beam, 

And  the  warm  earth  seems  in  a  waking  dream ; 

Insects  creep  out,  leaves  burst,  and  flowers  rise, 

And  birds  enchant  the  woods,  and  wing  the  skies ; 

Each  sentient  being  a  new  sense  receives, 

And  eloquently  looks,  to  each,  it  lives. 


The  name  of  this  month  is  before  ob- 
served to  have  been  derived  from  the  verb 
aperire*  which  signifies  to  open,  because 

"""  *  Vol.  i.  p,  407t 


seeds  germinate,  and  at  this  season 
flowers  begin  to  blow;  yet  Macrobius 
affirms  that  it  is  derived  from  a  Greek 
word  signifying  avhrilis,  or  descended 


481 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL. 


from  Venus,  or,  born  of  the  scum  of  the 
sea,  because  Romulus  dedicated  the  month 
to  Venus.  This  may  be  the  real  deriva- 
tion ;  the  former  is  the  most  natural. 


as  many  different  colours.  It  is  this,  and 
the  budding  forth  of  every  living  mem- 
ber of  the  vegetable  world,  after  its  long 
winter  death,  that  in  fact  constitutes  the 
spring ;  and  the  sight  of  which  affects  us  ifi 

«  April,"  says  the  author  of  the  Mirror    **  manner  »}  doef>  from  various  causes— 
^M0n^,"isspring-theonlyspring    chiefly  _^oral  and  associated  ones;    but 


ofth  . 

month  that  we  possess — the  most  juvenile 
of  the  months,  and  the  most  feminine — 
the  sweetest  month  of  all  the  year;  partly 
because  it  ushers  in  the  May,  and  partly 
for  its  own  sake,  so  far  as  any^  thing  can 
be  valuable  without  reference  to  any 
thing  else.  It  is,  to  May  and  June, 
what  'sweet  fifteen,'  in  the  age  of 
woman,  is  to  passion-striken  eighteen, 
and  perfect  two-and-twenty.  It  is 


one  of  which  is  unquestionably  physical : 
I  mean  the  sight  of  so  much  tender  green 
after  the  eye  has  been  condemned  to  look 
for  months  and  months  on  the  mere  nega- 
tion of  all  colour,  which  prevails  in  winter 
in  our  climate.  The  eye  feels  cheered 
cherished,  and  regaled  by  this  colour,  as 
the  tongue  does  by  a  quick  and  pleasant 
taste,  after  having  long  palated  nothing 
but  tasteless  and  insipid  things. — This  is 
the  principal  charm  of  spring,  no  doubt. 


worth  two  Mays,  because  it  tells  tales  of    ™e  Pr" 

May  in  every  sigh  that  it  breathes,  and     But  another    and  one    that   is    scarcely 

»  .   *  «  ,.    -. ,  i-.    •        .1          t  cor»nnH        tr\       true        10       t 


every  tear  that  it  lets  fall.  It  is  the  har- 
binger, the  herald,  the  promise,  the  pro- 
pnecy,  the  foretaste  of  all  the  beauties 
that  are  to  follow  it — of  all,  and  more — 
of  all  the  delights  of  summer,  and  all  the 
'  pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  glo- 
rious autumn.'  It  is  fraught  with  beau- 
ties that  no  other  month  can  bring  before 
us,  and 

'  It  bears  a  glass  which  shows  us  many  more.' 
Its  life  is  one  sweet  alternation  of  smiles 
and  sighs  am!  tears,  and  tears  and  sighs 
and  smiles,  till  it  is  consummated  at  last 
in  the  open  laughter  of  May." 

By  the  same  hand  we  are  directed  to 
observe,     "what  a  sweet   flush  of  new 
green  has  started  up  to  the  face  of  this 
meadow !       Arid   the    new-born    daisies 
that  stud  it  here  and  there,  give  it  the 
look  of  an  emerald  sky,  powdered  with 
snowy  stars.     In  making    our   way    to 
yonder     hedgerow,    which    divides    the 
meadow  from  the  little  copse  that  lines  one 
side  of  it,  let  us  not  take  the  shortest  way, 
but  keep  religiously  to  the  little  footpath  ; 
for  the  young  grass  is  as  yet  too  tender 
to  bear  being  trod  upon  ;    and  the  young 
lambs  themselves,  while  they  go  cropping 
its    crisp    points,    let  the  sweet  daisies 
alone,  as  if  they  loved  to  look  upon  a 
sight  as  pretty  and  as  innocent  as  them- 
selves."    It    is    further    remarked    that 
*  the  great  charm  of  this  month,  both  in 
the  open  country  and  the  garden,  is  un- 
doubtedly  the  infinite  green  which  per- 
vades it  every  where,  and  which  we  had 
best  gaze  our  fill  at  while  we  may,  as  it 
lasts  but  a  little  while, — changing  in  a 
few  weeks    into    an   endless  variety    of 
shades  and  tints,  that  are  equivalent  to 
VOL.  II.— 68. 


second    to    this,  is,  the  bright   flush  of 
blossoms  that  prevails  over  and  almost 
hides  every  thing  else  in  the  fruit-garden 
and  orchard.     What  exquisite  differences 
and  distinctions  and  resemblances  there 
are  between  all  the  various  blossoms  of 
the    fruit-trees ;    and    no    less    in   their 
general  effect  than  in  their  separate  de- 
tails !     The  almond-blossom,  which  comes 
first  of  all,  and  while  the  tree  is  quite  bare 
of  leaves,  is  of  a  bright  blush-rose  colour; 
and  when  they  are  fully  blown,  the  tree, 
if  it  has  been  kept   to  a  compact  head, 
instead  of  being  permitted   to    straggle, 
looks   like  one  huge  rose,  magnified  by 
some  fairy  magic,  to  deck  the  bosom  of 
some  fair  giantess.     The  various  kinds  of 
plum  follow,  the  blossoms  of  which  are 
snow-white,  and  as  full  and  clustering  as 
those  of  the   almond.     The   peach   and 
nectarine,  which  are  now  full  blown,  are 
unlike   either    of  the  above;    and  their 
sweet  effect,  as  if  growing  out  of  the  hard 
bare  wall,  or  the  rough  wooden  paling,  is 
peculiarly  pretty.     They  are   of  a  deep 
blush  colour,  and  of  a  delicate  bell  shape, 
the  lips,  however,  divided,  and  turning 
backward,  to  expose  the  interior  to  the 
cherishing  sun.     But  perhaps  the  bloom 
that  is  richest  and  most  promising  in  its 
general  appearance  is  that  of  the  cherry, 
clasping  its  white  honours  all  round  the 
long  straight  branches,  from  heel  to  point, 
and  not  letting  a  leaf  or  a  bit  of  stem  be 
seen,  except  the  three  or  four  leaves  that 
come  as  a  green  finish  at  the  extremity  of 
each  branch.     The  other  blossoms,  of  the 
pears,  and  (loveliest  of  all)  the  apples,  do 
not  come  in  perfection  till  next  month/' 


4S3  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL.  484 

,,        T  site  description  and  just  application.  The 
writers  have  traversed  "  woods  and  wilds, 

The  beauties  of  the  seasons  are  a  con-  and  fields,  and  lanes,  with  a  curious  and 
stant  theme  with  their  discoverers — the  delighted  eye,"  and  "  written  not  for  the 
poets.  Spring,  as  the  reproductive  source  sake  of  writing,"  but  for  the  indulgence 
of"  light  and  life  and  love,"  has  the  pre-  of  their  overflowing  feelings.  They  are 
eminence  with  these  children  of  nature.  "  members  of  the  Society  of  Friends," 
The  authors  of  "  The  Forest  Minstrel  and  and  those  who  are  accustomed  to  regard 
other  poems,"  William  and  Mary  Howitt,  individuals  of  that  community  as  neces- 
have  high  claims  upon  reflective  and  ima-  sarily  incapable  of  poetical  impression, 
ginative  minds,  in  return  for  the  truth  and  will  be  pleased  by  reading  from  Mr. 
beauty  contained  in  an  elegant  volume,  Hewitt's  "  Epistle  Dedicatory"  what  he 
which  cultivates  the  moral  sense,  and  says  of  his  own  verses,  and  of  his  help- 
infuses  a  devotional  spirit,  through  exqui-  mate  in  the  v/ork: — 

And  now  'tis  spring,  and  bards  are  gathering  flowers ; 

So  I  have  cull'd  you  these,  and  with  them  sent 
The  gleanings  of  a  nymph  whom  some  few  hours 

Ago  I  met  with — some  few  years  I  meant — 
Gathering  "  true-love"  amongst  the  wild-wood  bowers ; 

You'll  find  some  buds  all  with  this  posy  blent, 
If  that  ye  know  them,  which  some  lady  fair 
Viewing,  may  haply  prize,  for  they  are  wond'rous  rare. 

Artists  have  seldom  represented  friends  fashion,  which  marks  the  wearer  as  re- 

— "  of  the   Society   of   Friends," — with  markably  formal ;  while  the  young  females 

poetical  feeling.     Mr.  Howitt's  sketch  of  of  the  society,  still  preserving  the  distinc- 

nimself,  and  her  whom  he  found  gathering  tion  prescribed  by  discipline,  dress  more 

"  true-love,"  though  they  were  not  clad  attractively,  to  the  cultivated  eye.  than  a 

perhaps  "  as  worldlings  are,"  would  in-  multitude  of  the  sex  who  study  variety  of 

spire  a  painter,  whose  art  could  be  roused  costume.     Such  lovers,  pictured  as  they 

by    the   pen,   to  a  charming   picture   of  are  imagined   from   Mr.  Hewitt's   lines, 

youthful  affection.    The  habit  of  some  of  would  grace  a  landscape,  enfoliated  from 

'he  young  men,  in  the  peaceable  comrau-  other  stanzas  in  the  same  poem,  which 

nity,  maintains  its  character,  without  that  raise  the  fondest  recollections  of  the  plea* 

extremity  of  the  fashion  of  being  out  of  sures  of  boyhood  in  spring. 

Then  did  I  gather,  with  a  keen  delight, 

All  changes  of  the  seasons,  and  their  signs : 
Then  did  I  speed  forth,  at  the  first  glad  sight 

Of  the  coy  spring — of  spring  that  archly  shines 
Out  for  a  day — then  goes — and  then  more  bright 

Comes  laughing  forth,  like  a  gay  lass  that  lines 
A  dark  lash  with  a  ray  that  beams  and  burns, 
And  scatters  hopes  and  doubts,  and  smiles  and  frowns,  by  turns. 

On  a  sweet,  shining  morning  thus  sent  out, 

It  seem'd  what  man  was  made  for,  to  look  round 
And  trace  the  full  brook,  that,  with  clamorous  route, 

O'er  fallen  trees,  and  roots  black  curling,  wound 
Through  glens,  with  wild  brakes  scattered  all  about ; 

Where  not  a  leaf  or  green  blade  yet  was  found 
Springing  to  hide  the  red  fern  of  last  year, 
And  hemlocVs  broken  stems,  and  rustling  rank  grass  sere, 

But  hazel  catkins,  and  the  bursting  buds 

Of  the  fresh  willow,  whispered  "  spring  is  coming ;" 
And  bullfinches  forth  flitting  from  the  woods, 

With  their  rich  silver  voices  j  and  the  humming 


485  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  1.  486 

Of  a  new  waken'd  bee  that  pass'd ;  and  the  broods 

Of  ever  dancing  gnats,  again  consuming, 
In  pleasant  sun-light,  their  re-given  time ; 
And  the  germs  swelling  in  the  red  shoots  of  the  lime. 

All  these  were  tell-tales  of  far  brighter  hours, 

That  had  been,  and  again  were  on  their  way ; 
The  breaking  forth  of  green  things,  and  of  flowers, 

From  the  earth's  oreast ;  from  bank  and  quickening  spray 
Dews,  buds,  and  blossoms  ;  and  in  woodland  bowers, 

Fragrant  and  fresh,  full  many  a  sweet  bird's  lay, 
Sending  abroad,  from  the  exultant  spring, 
To  every  living  heart  a  gladsome  welcoming.  Howitt. 


•  ^P'  409')  tnere  *s  an  account  of  the  sin- 

,  gular  usage  of  fool-making  to-day,  which 

ALL  *OOLS  DAY.  may  De  further  illustrated  by  a  few  lines 

In  the  first  volume  of  the  present  work,  from  an  almanac  of  1 760 : — 

The  first  of  April,  some  do  say, 

Is  set  apart  for  All  Fool's-day  ; 

But  why  the  people  call  it  so, 

Nor  I,  nor  they  themselves,  do  know. 

But  on  this  day  are  people  sent 

On  purpose  for  pure  merriment; 

And  though  the  day  is  known  before, 

Yet  frequently  there  is  great  store 

Of  these  forgetfuls  to  be  found, 

Who're  sent  to  fiance  Moll  Dixon's  round  j 

And  having  tried  each  shop  and  stall, 

And  disappointed  at  them  all, 

At  last  some  tell  them  of  the  cheat, 

And  then  they  hurry  from  the  street, 

And  straightway  home  with  shame  they  run, 

And  others  laugh  at  what  is  done. 

But  'tis  a  thing  to  be  disputed, 

Which  is  the  greatest  fool  reputed, 

The  man  that  innocently  went, 

Or  he  that  him  designedly  sent.  Poor  Robin. 


The  custom  of  making  April  fools  pre-  vessel  carried  to  receive  the  pease  was  not 

vails  all  over  the  continent.  A  lady  relates  thrown  at  the  head  of  the  bearer. 

that  the  day  is  further  marked  in  Provence  '  

by  every  body,  both  rich  and  poor,  having  There  is  an  amusing  anecdote  connected 
for  dinner,  under  some  form  or  other,  a  with  the  church  of  the  convent  of  the 
sort  of  peas  peculiar  to  the  country,  Chartreux,  at  Provence.  It  was  dedicat- 
called  pot*  chiches.  While  the  convent  ed  to  St.  John,  and  over  the  portico  were 
of  the  Chartreux  was  standing,  it  was  one  colossal  statues  of  the  four  evangelists, 
of  the  great  jokes  of  the  day  to  send  which  have  been  thrown  down  and  bioken 
novices  thither  to  ask  for  these  peas,  to  pieces,  and  the  fragments  lie  scattered 
telling  them  that  the  fathers  were  obliged  about.  The  first  time  Miss  Plumptre 
to  give  them  away  to  any  body  who  with  her  party  visited  this  spot,  they 
»vould  come  for  them.  So  many  applica-  found  an  old  woman  upon  her  knees 
tions  were  in  consequence  made  in  the  before  a  block  of  stone,  muttering  some- 
course  of  the  day  for  the  promised  bounty,  thing  to  herself: — when  she  arose  up, 
.hat  the  patience  of  the  monks  was  at  last  curiosity  led  them  to  inquire,  whether 
usually  exhausted,  and  it  was  well  if  the  there  was  any  thing  particular  in .  that 


487 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  2,  3. 


488 


•tone ;  to  which  she  replied  with  a  deep 
sigh,  Ah  oui,  Jest  nn  morceau  de  Saint 
Jean,  "Ah  yes,  'tis  a  piece  of  Saint 
John."  The  old  lady  seemed  to  think 
that  the  saint's  intercession  in  her  behalf, 
mutilated  as  he  was,  might  still  be  of 
some  avail. 


In  Xylander's  Plutarch  there  is  a 
passage  in  Greek,  relative  to  the  "  Feast 
of  Fools,"  celebrated  by  the  Romans,  to 
this  effect,  "  Why  do  they  call  the  Quiri- 
nalia  the  Feast  of  Fools  ?  Either,  because 
they  allowed  this  day  (as  Juba  tells  us)  to 
those  who  could  not  ascertain  their  own 
tribes,  or  because  they  permitted  those 
who  had  missed  the  celebration  of  the 
Fornacalia  in  their  proper  tribes,  along 
with  the  rest  of  the  people,  either  out  of 
negligence,  absence,  or  ignorance,  to  hold 
their  festival  apart  on  this  day." 

The  Romans  on  the  first  day  of  April 
abstained  from  pleading  causes,  and  the 
Roman  ladies  performed  ablutions  under 
myrtle  trees,  crowned  themselves  with  its 
leaves,  and  offered  sacrifices  to  Venus. 
This  custom  originated  in  a  mythological 
story,  that  as  Venus  was  drying  her  wet- 
ted hair  by  a  river  side,  she  was  perceived 
by  satyrs,  whose  gaze  confused  her : — 

But  soon  with  myrtles  she  her  beauties 

veiled, 
From  whence  this  annual  custom  was  en- 

tail'd. 

Ovid. 


NEWCASTLE. 
Extract  from  the  Common  Council  Book. 

"  April  1,  1695.  All-Saints'  parish 
humbly  request  the  metal  of  the  statue, 
towards  the  repair  of  their  bells." 

This  refers  to  a  statue  of  James  II." 
pulled  down  from  the  Exchange  in  con- 
sequence of  lord  Lumley  having  entered 
tho  town  and  declared  foi  a  free  parlia- 
ment. It  was  an  equestrian  figure  in 
copper,  of  the  size  of  Charles  I.  at  Char- 
ing-cross.  The  mob  demolished  the 
statue,  dragged  it  to  the  quay,  and  cast  it 
into  the  ri  ver.  As  the  parish  of  All-Saints 
uesired  to  turn  the  deposit  to  some  ac- 
count, the  parish  of  St.  Andrews  peti- 
tioned for  a  share  of  the  spoil,  and  it 
appears  by  the  subjoined  extract  from  the 
council  books,  that  each  was  accommo- 
Jated. 


"  Ordered  that  All-Saints  have  the 
metal  belonging  to  the  horse  of  the  said 
statue,  except  a  leg  thereof,  which  must 
go  towards  the  casting  of  a  new  bell  for 
St.  Andrew's  parish." 

A  print  of  the  statue  was  published 
"  on  two  large  sheets  of  Genoa  paper," 
price  5*.  by  Joseph  Barber  of  Newcastle. 
There  is  an  engraving  from  it  in  "  Local 
Records,  by  John  Sykes,  bookseller, 
Newcastle,  1824,"  a  book  which  consists 
of  a  chronological  arrangement  of  curious 
and  interesting  facts,  and  events,  that  have 
occurred  exclusively  in  the  counties  of 
Durham  and  Northumberland,  Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne,  and  Berwick,  with  an  obituary 
and  anecdotes  of  remarkable  persons. 
The  present  notice  is  taken  from  Mr. 
Sykes  s  work. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  44  •  17. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  2d  of  April  1755,  Severndroog 
castle,  on  the  coast  of  Malabar,  belonging 
to  Angria,  a  celebrated  pirate,  was  taken 
by  commodore  James.  His  relict,  to 
commemorate  her  husband's  heroism,  and 
to  testify  her  affectionate  respect  to  his  me- 
mory, erected  a  tower  of  the  same  name 
on  Shooters-hill,  near  Blackheath,  where 
it  is  a  distinguished  land-mark  at  an 
immense  distance  to  the  circumjacent 
country. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  44  •  37. 

SIGNS  OF  THF  SEASONS. 
It  is  noticed  on  this  day  in  the  "  Peren- 
nial Calendar,"  that  the  birds  are  now 
arriving  daily,  and  forming  arrangements 
for  the  hatching  and  nurture  of  their 
future  young.  The  different  sorts  of 
nests  of  each  species,  adapted  to  the 
wants  of  each,  and  springing  out  of  their 
respective  instincts,  combined  with  the 
propensity  to  construct,  would  form  a 
curious  subject  of  research  for  the  natural 
historian.  Every  part  of  the  world  fur- 
nishes materials  for  the  aerial  architects  : 
leaves  and  small  twigs,  roots  and  dried 
grass,  mixed  with  clay,  serve  for  the  ex- 


489  THE  EVEIIY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  3.  490 

ternal ;  whilst  moss,  wool,  fine  hair,  and     form   the   warm   internal   part   ;of  these 
the  softest  animal  and  vegetable  downs,     commodious  dwellings  : — 

Of  vernal  songsters — some  to  the  holly  hedge, 

Nestling,  repair,  and  to  the  thicket  some ; 

Some  to  the  rude  protection  of  the  thorn 

Commit  their  feeble  offspring  :  the  cleft  tree 

Offers  its  kind  concealment  to  a  few, 

Their  food  its  insects,  and  its  moss  their  nests : 

Others  apart,  far  in  the  grassy  dale 

Or  roughening  waste,  their  humble  texture  weave  : 

But  most  in  woodland  solitudes  delight, 

In  unfrequented  glooms  or  shaggy  banks, 

Steep,  and  divided  by  a  babbling  brook, 

Whose  murmurs  soothe  them  all  the  livelong  day, 

When  by  kind  duty  fixed.     Among  the  roots 

Of  hazel,  pendent  o'er  the  plaintive  stream, 

They  frame  the  first  foundation  of  their  domes, 

Dry  sprigs  of  trees,  in  artful  fabric  laid, 

And  bound  with  clay  together.     Now  'tis  naught 

But  restless  hurry  through  the  busy  air, 

Beat  by  unnumbered  wings.    The  swallow  sweeps 

The  slimy  pool,  to  build  the  hanging  house 

Intent :  and  often  from  the  careless  back 

Of  herds  and  flocks  a  thousand  tugging  bills 

Pluck  hair  and  wool ;  and  oft,  when  unobserved, 

Steal  from  the  barn  a  straw;  till  soft  and  warm, 

Clean  and  complete,  their  habitation  grows.  Thornton. 

The  cavern-loving  wren  sequestered  seeks 

The  verdant  shelter  of  the  hollow  stump, 

And  with  congenial  moss,  harmless  deceit, 

Constructs  a  safe  abode.     On  topmost  boughs 

The  glossy  raven,  and  the  hoarsevoiced  crow, 

Rocked  by  the  storm,  erect  their  airy  nests. 

The  ousel,  lone  frequenter  of  the  grove 

Of  fragrant  pines,  in  solemn  depth  of  shade 

Finds  rest;  or  'mid  the  holly's  shining  leaves, 

A  simple  bush  the  piping  thrush  contents, 

Though  in  the  woodland  concert  he  aloft 

Trills  from  his  spotted  throat  a  powerful  strain, 

And  scorns  the  humbler  quire.     The  lark  too  asks 

A  lowly  dwelling,  hid  beneath  a  tur/, 

Or  hollow,  trodden  by  the  sinking  hoof; 

Songster  of  heaven !  who  to  the  sun  such  lays 

Pours  forth,  as  earth  ne'er  owns.     Within  the  hedge 

The  sparrow  lays  her  skystained  eggs.     The  barn, 

With  eaves  o'erpendant,  holds  the  chattering  tribe  : 

Secret  the  linnet  seeks  the  tangled  copse : 

The  white  owl  seeks  some  antique  ruined  wall, 

Fearless  of  rapine ;  or  in  hollow  trees, 

Which  age  has  caverned,  safely  courts  repose  : 

The  thievish  pie,  in  twofold  colours  clad, 

Roofs  o'er  her  curious  nest  with  firmwreathed  twigs, 

And  sidelong  forms  her  cautious  door ;  she  dreads 

The  taloned  kite,  or  pouncing  hawk ;  savage 

Herself,  with  craft  suspicion  ever  dwells.  Bullnka. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR 
Mean  Temperature  ...  43  •  37. 


491 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  4,  .5. 


492 


t'l  4. 


CHEAP  WEATHER  GUIDE. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-  Day  Book. 
Cornhill,  March,  1826, 

Sir,  —  The  following  observations  on  the 
leechworm  were  made  by  a  gentleman 
who  kept  one  several  years  for  the  pur- 
pose of  a  weather-glass  : 

A  phial  of  water,  containing  a  leech, 
I  kept  on  the  frame  of  my  lower  sash 
window,  so  that  when  I  looked  in  the 
morning  I  could  know  what  would  be  the 
weather  of  the  following  day.  If  the 
weather  proves  serene  and  beautiful,  the 
leech  lies  motionless  at  the  bottom  of  the 
glass,  and  rolled  together  in  a  spiral 
form. 

If  it  rains,  either  before  or  after  noon, 
it  is  found  crept  up  to  the  top  of  its 
lodging,  and  there  it  remains  till  the 
weather  is  settled.  If  we  are  to  have 
wind,  the  poor  prisoner  gallops  through 
its  limped  habitation  with  amazing  swift- 
ness, and  seldom  rests  till  it  begins  to 
blow  hard. 

If  a  storm  of  thunder  and  rain  is  to 
succeed,  for  some  days  before  it  lodges, 
almost  continually,  without  the  water, 
and  discovers  very  great  uneasiness  in 
violent  throes  and  convulsions. 

In  the  frost,  as  in  clear  summer  wea- 
ther, it  lies  constantly  at  the  bottom  ; 
and  in  snow,  as  in  rainy  weather,  it 
pitches  its  dwelling  upon  the  very  mouth 
of  the  phial. 

What  reasons  may  be  assigned  for 
these  circumstances  I  must  leave  philo- 
sophers to  determine,  though  one  thing  is 
evident  to  every  body,  that  it  must  be 
affected  in  the  same  way  as  that  of  the 
mercury  and  spirits  in  the  weather-glass. 
It  has,  doubtless,  a  very  surprising  sensa- 
tion ;  for  the  change  of  weather,  even 
days  before,  makes  a  visible  alteration 
upon  its  manner  of  living. 

Perhaps  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  note, 
that  the  leech  was  kept  in  a  common 
eight-ounce  phial  glass,  about  three- 
quarters  filled  with  water,  and  covered  on 
the  mouth  with  a  piece  of  linen  rag.  In 
the  summer  the  water  is  changed  once  a 
a  week,  and  in  the  winter  once  a  fort- 
night. This  is  a  weather-glass  which 
may  be  purchased  at  a  very  trifling  ex- 
pense, and  which  will  last  1  do  not  know 
how  many  years. 

I  am,  &c 

J.  F. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  44  •  82. 


5. 


SWALLOWS  IN  1826. 
Our  friend  J.  H.  H.  whose  letter  on  wild- 
fowl shooting,  from  Abbeville,  is  in  vol.  i. 
p.  1575,  with  another  on  lark  shooting 
in  France  in  the  present  volume,  p.  91, 
writes  from  Southover,  near  Lewes,  in 
Sussex,  on  this  day,  1826,  "How  de- 
lightful the  country  looks  !  I  shall  leave 
you  to  imagine  two  swallows,  the  first  I 
have  seen,  now  preening  themselves  on 
the  barn  opposite,  heartily  glad  that  their 
long  journey  is  at  an  end."  The  birds* 
come  to  us  this  year  very  early. 


Pump  with  two  Spouts. 

In  a  letter  of  the  5th  of  April,  1808, 
to  Dr.  Aikin,  inserted  in  his  "  Athe- 
naeum," Mr.  Roots  says, — "  In  the  year 
1801,  being  on  a  tour  through  the  High- 
lands of  Scotland,  I  visited  the  beautiful 
city  of  Glasgow,  and  in  passing  one  of 
the  principal  streets  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  Tron  church,  I  observed  about 
five-and-twenty  or  thirty  people,  chiefly 
females,  assembled  round  a  large  public 
pump,  waiting  their  separate  turns  for 
water ;  and  although  the  pump  had  two 
spouts  for  the  evacuation  of  the  water 
behind  and  before,  I  took  notice  that  one 
of  the  spouts  was  carefully  plugged  up, 
no  one  attempting  to  fill  his  vessel  from 
that  source,  whilst  each  was  waiting  till 
the  rest  were  served,  sooner  than  draw 
the  water  from  the  spout  in  question. 
On  inquiry  into  the  cause  of  this  pro- 
ceeding, I  was  informed  by  an  intelligent 
gentleman  residing  in  the  neighbourhood, 
that  though  one  and  the  same  handle 
produced  the  same  water  from  the  same 
well  through  either  of  the  spouts,  yet  the 
populace,  and  even  better  informed  peo- 
ple, had  for  a  number  of  years  conceived 
an  idea,  which  had  been  handed  down 
from  father  to  son,  that  the  water  when 
drawn  from  the  hindermost  spout  would 
be  of  an  unhtcky  and  poisonous  nature; 
and  this  vulgar  prejudice  is  from  time  to 
time  kept  afloat,  inasmuch,  as  by  its  being 
never  used,  a  kind  of  dusty  fur  at  length 
collects,  and  the  water,  when  suffered 
from  curiosity  to  pass  through,  at  first 
runs  foul ;  and  this  tends  to  carry  con- 
viction still  further  to  these  ignorant  peo- 
ple, who  with  the  most  solemn  assnrancei 


493 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  6,  7. 


494 


informed  me,  it  was  certain  death  to 
taste  of  the  water  so  drawn,  and  no  argu- 
ment could  divest  them  of  their  supersti- 
tious conceit,  though  the  well  had  been 
repeatedly  cleaned  out,  before  them,  by 
order  of  the  magistrates,  and  the  internal 
mechanism  of  the  pump  explained.  We 
need  not  be  surprised  at  the  bigotted 
ignorance  of  the  ruder  ages,  either  in 
this  country  or  in  less  civilized  regions, 
when  we  witness  facts  so  grossly  supersti- 
tious obtaining  in  our  own  time." 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  45  •  67. 


SPRING. 

This  period  of  the  year  is  so  awakening 
to  intellectual  powers,  that  for  a  few  days 
some  matters  of  fact  are  occasionally 
deferred  in  favour  of  imaginative  and 
descriptive  effusions  occasioned  by  the 
season. 


THE  POET'S  PEN. 
(From  the  Greek  of  Menecrates.) 

I  was  an  useless  reed;  no  cluster  hung 

My  brow  with  purple  grapes,  no  blossom  flung 

The  coronet  of  crimson  on  my  stem ; 

No  apple  blushed  upon  me,  nor  (the  gem 

Of  flowers)  the  violet  strewed  the  yellow  heath 

Around  my  feet,  nor  Jessamine's  sweet  wreath 

Robed  me  in  silver :  day  and  night  I  pined 

On  the  lone  moor,  and  shiver'd  in  the  wind. 

At  length  a  poet  found  me.     From  my  side 

He  smoothed  the  pale  and  withered  leaves,  and  dyed 

My  lips  in  Helicon.     From  that  high  hour 

I  SPOKE  !     My  words  were  flame  and  living  power, 

All  the  wide  wonders  of  the  earth  were  mine, 

Far  as  the  surges  roll,  or  sunbeams  shine ; 

Deep  as  earth's  bosom  hides  the  emerald ; 

High  as  the  hills  with  thunder  clouds  are  pall'd. 

And  there  was  sweetness  round  me,  that  the  dew 

Had  never  wet  so  sweet  on  violet's  blue. 

To  me  the  mighty  sceptre  was  a  wand, 

The  roar  of  nations  peal'd  at  my  command  ; 

To  me  the  dungeon,  sword,  and  scourge  were  vain, 

I  smote  the  smiter,  and  I  broke  the  chain; 


Stars,  temples,  thrones,  and  gods — infinity. 


Pulci 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  46  •  84. 


SAINTS. 

Our  old  acquaintance  with  the  saints  is 
not  broken  :  but  they  are  sad  intruders  on 
the  beauties  of  the  world,  and  we  part 
from  them,  for  a  little  while,  after  the  an- 
lexed  communication  of  an  attempt  to 
aonour  them 


SERMON  AT  ST.  ANDREW'S. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  following  anecdote,  under  the  ar- 
ticle "  Black  Friars,"  in  Brand's  "  History 
of  Newcastle-upon-Tyne,"  as  a  specimen 
of  the  extreme  perversion  of  mind  in  the 
Romish  clergy  of  former  times,  is  curious, 
and  may  amuse  your  readers  as  much  as 
it  has  me. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  8. 


496 


Richard  Marshall,  who  had  been  one  of 
the  brethren,  and  also  prior  of  the  house, 
in  the  year  1521,  at  St.  Andrew's,  Scot- 
land, informed  his  audience  there,  that 
Pater  noster  should  be  addressed  to  God 
and  not  to  the  saints.  The  doctors  of  St. 
Andrew's,  in  their  great  wisdom,  or  rather 
craftiness,  appointed  a  preacher  to  oppose 
this  tenet,  which  he  did  in  a  sermon  from 
Matt.  v.  3.  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit."  "  Seeing,"  says  he,  "  we  say 
good  day,  father,  to  any  old  man  in  the 
street,  we  may  call  a  saint,  pater,  who  is 
older  than  any  alive  :  and  seeing  they  are 
in  heaven,  we  may  say  to  any  of  them, 
*  hallowed  be  thy  name ;'  arid  since  they 
are  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  we  may  say 
to  any  of  them  '  thy  kingdom  come  :'  and 
seeing  their  will  is  God's  will,  we  may 
say,  «  thy  ivill  be  done,'  "  &c.  When 
the  friar  was  proceeding  further,  he  was 
hissed  and  even  obliged  to  leave  the  city. 
Yet  we  are  told,  the  dispute  continued 
among  the  doctors  about  the  pater.  Some 
would  have  it  said  to  God  formaliter,  to 
the  saints  materialiter ;  others,  to  God 
principaliter,  to  the  saints  minus  princi- 
paliter ;  or  primario  to  God,  secundario 
to  the  saints ;  or  to  God  stride,  and  to 
the  saints  late.  With  all  these  distinc- 
tions they  could  not  agree.  It  is  said, 
that  Tom,  who  was  servant  to  the  sub- 
prior  of  St  Andrew's,  one  day  perceiving 
his  master  in  trouble,  said  to  him,  u  Sir, 
what  is  the  cause  of  your  trouble  ?"  The 
master  answered,  "  We  cannot  agree 
about  the  saying  of  the  pater.'1  The  fel- 
low replied,  "  To  whom  should  it  be  said 
but  to  God  alone?"  The  master  asks, 


"  What  then  shall  we  do  with  the  saints?" 
To  which  Tom  rejoined,  "  Give  them 
ave's  and  crede's  enough,  that  may  suf- 
fice them,  and  too  well  too."  The  readers 
of  the  Every-Day  Book  will  probably 
think  that  Tom  was  wiser  or  honester 
than  his  master.  J.  F. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  47  •  10. 


8. 

FLOWERS. 

On  this  day  in  the  "  Perennial  Calen- 
dar," Dr.  Forster  observes,  that  it  may 
be  proper  to  notice  the  general  appear- 
ance of  the  wild  and  less  cultivated  parts 
of  nature  at  this  time.  In  the  fields,  the 
bulbous  crowfoot,  ranunculus  bulbosus, 
begins  to  blow.  Daisies  become  pretty 
common,  and  dandelions  are  seen  here 
and  there  by  road  sides,  and  in  fields,  on 
a  warm  soil,  are  pretty  abundant.  The 
pilewort,  ficaria  verna,  still  decorates  the 
thickets  and  shady  green  banks  with  its 
bright  yellow  stars  of  gold.  It  may  be 
observed  generally,  that  the  flowers  found 
at  this  time  belong  to  the  primaveral 
Flora ;  those  of  the  vernal  being  as  yet 
undeveloped.  By  the  sides  of  rivers, 
streams,  and  ponds,  along  the  wet  mar- 
gins of  ditches,  and  in  moist  meadows, 
and  marshes,  grows  the  marsh  marigold, 
caltha  palustris,  whose  golden  yellow 
flowers  have  a  brilliant  effect  at  a  small 
distance. 


to 

Prolific  gales 

Warm  the  soft  air,  and  animate  the  vales. 
W^oven  with  flowers  and  shrubs,  and  freshest  green, 
Thrown  with  wild  boldness  o'er  the  lovely  scene 
A  brilliant  carpet,  of  unnumbered  dyes, 
With  sweet  variety  enchants  the  eyes. 
Thick  are  the  trees  with  leaves ;  in  every  grove 
The  feathered  minstrels  tune  their  throats  to  love. 

Kleitt. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 


DOMESTIC  ANTIQUITIES, 

and  a 

LETTER  OF  LORD  THURLOW'S. 
A  gentleman  indulges  the  editor  with 
the  following  account  of  a  singular  house- 
hold utensil,  and  a  drawing  of  it,  from 
whence  a  correct  engraving  has  been 
made ;  together  with  a  letter  from  the 
late  lord  chancellor  Thurlow,  which  from 
his  distinguished  hand  on  a  singular  oc- 
currence, merits  preservation. 


Aprit  3,1826. 
Sir, — I  shall  be  happy  to  communi- 
cate any  thing  in  my  power,  connected 
with  antiquities  to  the  Every-Day  Book, 
which  I  have  taken  from  the  beginning 
and  been  highly  pleased  with  ;  and,  first, 
I  send  you  a  drawing  for  insertion,  if  yoa 
think  it  worthy,  of  a  carving,  in  my  pos> 
session,  on  an  ancient  oak  board,  two 
feet  in  diameter, 


497 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  8. 


498 


ancient  Cartons. 

It  represents  the  letters  3f»  |)«  *•  in  the  centre,  surrounded  by  this  legend,  viz. 

*'  An  harte  that  is  wyse  wyll  obstine  from 
rinnes  andincreas  in  the  workes  of  God." 


As  this  legend  reads  backward,  and  all 
the  carving  is  incuse,  it  was  evidently  in- 
tended to  give  impression  to  something  ; 
I  imagine  pastry. 

An  original  letter  is  now  before  me, 
from  lord  chancellor  Thurlow,  to  a 
Norfolk  farmer,  who  had  sent  him  a 
hare,  and  two  and  a  half  brace  of  par- 
tridges, enclosed  in  a  large  turnip  of  his 
own  growth.  The  farmer  had  not  any 
personal  knowledge  of  his  lordship,  but, 
being  aware  he  was  a  Norfolk  man,  he 
rightly  conceived  that  his  present  would 
be  looked  upon  with  more  interest  on 
that  account.  The  following  is  a  copy 
of  the  chancellor's  letter: — 


Bath,  Dec.  31,  1778. 
Sir, — I  beg  you  will  accept  of  my  best 
thanks   for   you*  agreeable  present.      It 
gave  me  additional  satisfaction  to  be  so 
remembered   in   my   native   country;  to 
which  I,  in  particular,  owe    every    sort 
of  respect,  and  all  the  world  agrees  to 
admire  for  superiority  in  husbandry. 
I  am,  Sir, 

Your  most  obliged 
And  obedient  servant, 

THURLOW. 

Having  transcribed  his  lordship's  an- 
swer, you  are  at  liberty  to  do  with  that, 
and  the  drawing  of  my  carving,  as  you 
please ;  with  this  "  special  observance/' 


499 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  9,  10. 


500 


that  you  do  not  insert  my  name,  which, 
nevertheless,  for  your  satisfaction,  I  sub- 
scribe, with  my  abode. 

Believe  me,  Sir,  &c. 

ETA. 

\*  The  editor  is  gratified  by  the  con- 
fidence reposed  in  him  by  the  gentleman 
who  wrote  the  preceding  letter.  He  takes 
this  opportunity  of  acknowledging  similar 
marks  of  confidence,  and  reiterates  the 
assurance,  that  such  wishes  will  be  always 
scrupulously  observed. 

It  is  respectfully  observed  to  possessors 
of  curiosities  of  any  kind,  whether  ancient 
or  modern,  that  if  correct  drawings  of 
them  be  sent  they  shall  be  faithfully  en- 
graven and  inserted,  with  the  descriptive 
accounts. 

The  gradual  disappearance  of  many 
singular  traces  of  our  ancestors,  renders  it 
necessary  to  call  attention  to  the  subject. 
4<  Apostle  Spoons,"  of  which  there  is  an 
engraving  in  vol.  i.  p.  178,  have  been 
dropping  for  the  last  thirty  years  into  the 
refiner's  melting-pot,  till  sets  of  them  are 
not  to  be  purchased,  or  even  seen,  except 
in  cabinets.  Any  thing  of  interest  re- 
specting domestic  manners,  habits,  or 
customs,  of  old  times,  is  coveted  by  the 
editor  for  the  purpose  of  recording  and 
handing  them  down  to  posterity. 

NATURALISTS*  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  46  •  72. 


AN  APRIL  DAY. 

Some  verses  in  the  "  Widow's  Tale, 
are  beautifully  descriptive  of  the  season. 

All  day  the  lowhung  clouds  have  dropt 

Their  garnered  fulness  down  ; 
All  day  that  soft  grey  mist  hath  wrapt 

Hill,  valley,  grove,  and  town. 
There  has  not  been  a  sound  to-day 

To  break  the  calm  of  nature  ; 
Nor  motion,  I  might  almost  say, 

Of  life  or  living  creature  ; 
Of  waving  bough,  or  warbling  bird, 

Or  cattle  faintly  lowing  ; 
I  could  have  half  believed  I  heard 

The  leaves  and  blossoms  growing. 
I  stood  to  hear  —  I  love  it  well, 

The  rain's  continuous  sound, 
Small  drops,  but  thick  and  fast,  they  fell, 

Down  straight  into  the  ground. 
For  leafy  thickness  is  not  yet 

Earth's  naked  breast  to  screen, 
Though  every  dripping  branch  is  set 

With  shoots  of  tender  green. 


Sure,  since  I  looked  at  early  morn, 

Those  honeysuckle  buds 
Have  swelled  to  double  growth  ;  that  thorn 

Hath  put  forth  larger  studs'; 
That  lilac's  cleaving  cones  have  burst, 

The  milkwhite  flowers  revealing  ; 
Even  now,  upon  my  senses  first 

Methinks  their  sweets  are  stealing. 
The  very  earth,  the  steamy  air. 

Is  all  with  fragrance  rife  ; 
And  grace  and  beauty  every  where 

Are  flushing  into  life. 

Down,    down    they   come — those    fruitful 
stores ! 

Those  earth-rejoicing  drops ! 
A  momentary  deluge  pours, 

Then  thins,  decreases,  stops  ; 
And  ere  the  dimples  on  the  stream 

Have  circled  out  of  sight, 
Lo  !  from  the  west,  a  parting  gleam 

Breaks  forth  of  amber  light. 
But  yet  behold — abrupt  and  loud, 

Comes  down  the  glittering  rain ; 
The  farewell  of  a  passing  cloud, 

The  fringes  of  her  train. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  47  •  17. 


10. 

THE  SEASON. 

Art,  as  well  as  nature,  is  busily  occu- 
pied in  providing  for  real  wants  or  natu- 
ral desires.  To  gratify  the  ears  and  eyes 
of  the  young,  we  have  more  street  organs 
and  shows  in  spring  than  in  the  autumn,and 
the  ad  ventures  of  that  merry  fellow  "  Punch 
in  the  Puppet-show,"  are  represented  to 
successive  crowds  in  every  street,  whence 
his  exhibitors  conceive  they  can  extract 
funds  for  the  increase  of  their  treasury. 

A  kind  hand  communicates  an  article 
of  curious  import,  peculiarly  seasonable. 

PUNCH  IN  THE  PUPPET  SHOW. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir,  — I  do  not  know,  whether  in  the  ab- 
sence of  more  interesting  matter,  a  few  re- 
marks on  an  old  favourite  may  be  allowed. 
The  character  I  am  about  to  mention, 
has  I  am  sure  at  one  time  or  another  de- 
lighted most  of  your  readers,  and  I  con- 
fess to  be  still  amused  with  his  vagaries — 
I  mean  "  that  celebrated  wooden  Ros- 
cius,  Mister  Punch.1'  It  is  very  difficult 
to  trace  accurately  the  origin  and  varia- 
tion of  any  character  of  this  description  ; 
and  I  shall,  therefore,  only  offer  some 
unconnected  notices. 

In  some  of  the  old  mysteries,  wherein 
you  are  so  well  read,  "  the  devil"  was 
the  buffoon  of  the  piece,  and  used  to  in- 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  10. 


502 


dulge  himself  most  freely  in  the  gross 
indecencies  tolerated  in  the  earlier  ages. 
When  those  mysteries  began  to  be  re- 
fined into  moralities,  the  vice  gradually 
superseded  the  former  clown,  if  he  may 
be  so  designated  ;  and  at  the  commence- 
ment of  such  change,  frequently  shared 
the  comic  part  of  the  performance  with 
him.  The  vice  was  armed  with  a  dagger 
of  lath,  with  which  he  was  to  belabour 
the  devil,  who,  sometimes,  however,  at 
the  conclusion  of  the  piece,  carried  off  the 
vice  with  him.  Here  we  have  something 
like  the  club  wielded  by  Punch,  and  the 
wand  of  harlequin,  at  the  present  time, 
and  a  similar  finish  of  the  devil  and 
Punch,  may  be  seen  daily  in  our  streets. 
About  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
century  the  drama  began  to  assume  a 
more  regular  form,  and  the  vice,  in  his 
turn,  had  to  make  way  for  the  clown  or 
fool,  who  served  to  fill  up  the  space  be- 
tween the  acts,  by  supposed  extempo- 
raneous witticisms ;  holding,  occasionally, 
trials  of  wit  with  any  of  the  spectators 
who  were  bold  enough  to  venture  with 
him.  The  last  play,  perhaps,  in  which 
the  regular  fool  was  introduced,  was 
"  The  Woman  Captain"  of  Shad- 
well,  in  the  year  1680.  Tarleton, 
in  the  time  of  Shakspeare,  was  a  cele- 
brated performer  of  this  '  description. 
The  fool  was  frequently  dressed  in  a 
motley  or  party-coloured  coat,  and  each 
leg  clad  in  different  coloured  hose.  A 
sort  of  hood  covered  his  head,  resem- 
bling a  monk's  cowl :  this  was  afterwards 
changed  for  a  cap,  each  being  usually 
surmounted  with  the  neck  and  head  of  a 
cock,  or  sometimes  only  the  crest,  or 
comb;  hence  the  term  cockscomb.  In 
bis  hand  he  carried  the  bauble,  a  short 
stick,  having  at  one  end  a  fool's  head, 
and  at  the  other,  frequently  a  bladder 
with  peas  or  sand,  to  punish  those  who 
offended  him.  His  dress  was  often 
adorned  with  morris-bells,  or  large  knobs. 
We  may  observe  much  similarity  to  this 
dress,  in  the  present  costume  of  Punch. 
He  degenerated  into  a  wooden  performer, 
about  the  time  that  the  regular  tragedy 
and  comedy  were  introduced,  i.  e.  in  the 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Strol- 
ling players  were  piohibited  a  few  years 
afterwards,  and  some  of  those  performers 
who  had  not  skill  or  interest  enough  to 
get  a  situation  in  any  established  com- 
pany, went  about  the  country  with  pup- 
pet shows,  or  "  motions,"  as  they 'were 
then  called  wherein  Punch  was  a  pro- 


minent character,  though  not  by  that 
name,  which  WPS  a  subsequent  im- 
portation, originally  Policinello,  or  Pun- 
chinello; and  when  this  name  was 
introduced  from  the  continent,  some 
modifications  were  made  also  in  the  cha- 
racter to  whom  the  name  was  attached. 
The  civil  wars,  and  subsequent  triumph 
of  puritanism,  depressed  theatrical  pro- 
ceedings, and  Punch  with  other  per- 
formers was  obliged  to  hide  himself,  or 
act  by  stealth ;  but  in  the  jovial  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  he,  and  his  brother  actors, 
broke  out  with  renewed  splendour,  and 
until  the  time  of  George  I.  he  maintained 
his  rank  manfully,  being  mentioned  with 
considerable  respect  even  by  the  "  Specta- 
tor." About  this  time,  however,  harle- 
quinades were  introduced,  and  have  been 
so  successfully  continued,  that  poor  Punch 
is  contented  to  walk  the  streets  like  a 
snail,  with  his  house  on  his  back,  though 
still  possessing  as  much  fun  as  ever. 

Pantomime,  in  its  more  extended 
sense,  was  known  to  the  Greek  and 
Roman  stages,  being  introduced  on  the 
latter  by  Pylades  and  Bathyllus,  in  the 
time  of  Augustus  Caesar.  From  that 
time  to  the  present,  different  modifica- 
tions of  this  representation  have  taken 
place  on  the  continent,  and  the  lofty 
scenes  of  ancient  pantomime,  are  dege- 
nerated to  the  bizarre  adventures  of  har- 
lequin, pantaloon,  zany,  pierrot,  scara- 
mouch, &c.- 

The  first  pantomine  performed  by  gro- 
tesque characters  in  this  country,  was  at 
Drury-lane  theatre,  in  the  year  1702.  It 
was  composed  by  Mr.  Weaver,  and  called 
"  The  Tavern  Bilkers."  The  next  was 
performed  at  Drury-lane  in  1716,  and  it 
was  also  composed  by  Mr.  Weaver,  in 
imitation  of  the  ancient  pantomime,  and 
called  "  The  Loves  of  Mars  and  Venus." 

In  1717,  the  first  harlequinade,  com- 
posed by  Mr.  Rich,  was  performed  at  the 
theatre  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  called, 
"  Harlequin  Executed."  This  performer, 
who  acted  under  the  name  of  Lun,  was 
so  celebrated  for  his  taste  in  composing 
these  entertainments,  and  for  his  skill,  as 
a  harlequin,  that  they  soon  became  esta- 
blished in  the  public  favour.  He  flourish- 
ed until  the  year  1761,  and  all  his  pro- 
ductions succeeded. 

The  harlequin  on  the  French  stage 
differed  from  ours,  for  he  had  considerable 
license  of  speech,  somewhat  similar  to  the 
theatric  fools  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
Many  of  the  witticisms  of  Dominique,  a 


503 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  10. 


604 


celebrated  harlequin  in  the  time  of  Louis 
XIV.  are  still  on  record ;  it  is  said,  in- 
deed, that  before  his  time,  harlequin  was 
but  a  grotesque  ignorant  character,  but 
that  he  being  a  man  of  wit,  infused  it  into 
his  representation,  and  invented  the  cha- 
racter of  Pierrot  as  a  foolish  servant,  to 
fill  up  the  piece.  The  old  character  of 
zany  was  similar  to  our  modern  clown, 
•who  now  is  generally  the  possessor  of  all 
the  wit  in  the  performance.  The  name  of 
pantaloon  is  said  to  have  been  derived 
from  the  watch-word  of  the  Venetians, 
pianta  leone  ;  if  so,  (which  is  doubtful) 
it  must  hare  been  applied  in  derision  of 
their  fallen  state,  as  compared  with  their 
former  splendour.  A  more  doubtful 
origin  has  been  given  of  the  name  of 
harlequin ;  a  young  Italian  actor  of  emi- 
nence in  this  style  of  character,  came  to 
Paris  in  the  time  of  Henry  III.  of  France, 
and  having  been  received  into  the  house 
of  the  president,  Achilles  de  Harlai,  his 
brother  actors,  are  said  to  have  called  him 
harlequino,  from  the  name  of  his  master. 
There  was  a  knight  called  Harlequin,  an 
extravagant  dissipated  man,  who  spent 
his  substance  in  the  wars  of  Charles  Mar- 
tel,  against  the  Saracens,  and  afterwards 
lived  by  pillage.  Tradition  says  he  was 
saved  from  perdition  in  consequence  of 
his  services  against  the  infidels,  but  con- 
demned for  a  certain  time  to  appear 
nightly  upon  earth,  with  those  of  his 
lineage. 

But,  as  to  derivations,  some  have  de- 
rived the  'term  merry-andrew,  from  the 
time  of  the  Druids,  an  Drieu,  i.  e.  Arch- 
Druid, — others,  from  the  celebrated  An- 
drew Borde,  the  writer  and  empiric.  The 
merry-andrew  used  at  fairs  to  wear  a 
patched  coat  like  the  modern  harlequin, 
and  sometimes  a  hunch  on  his  back.  It 
has  been  remarked  that  the  common 
people  are  apt  to  give  to  some  well-known 
facetious  personage,  the  name  of  a  fa- 
vourite dish;  hence,  the  jack-pudding  of 
the  English ;  the  jean-potage  of  the 
French  ;  the  macaroni  of  the  Italians,  &c. 

A  word  or  two  more  about  Punch,  and 
I  have  done.  There  are  some  hand-bills 
in  the  British  Museum,  of  the  time  of 
queen  Ann,  from  whence  I  made  a  few 
extracts  some  time  ago.  They  principally 
relate  to  the  shows  at  Bartlemy  fair,  and  I 
observe  at  "  Heatly's  booth,"  that  "  the 
performances  will  be  compleated  with  the 
merry  humors  of  sir  John  Spendall  and 
Punchinello ;"  and  James  Miles,  at  "  the 
Gun-Musick  booth,"  among  other  dances 


&c.,  exhibited  "  a  new  entertainment 
between  a  scaramouch,  a  harlequin,  and 
a  punchinello,  in  imitation  of  bilking  a 
reckoning, — and  a  new  dance  by  four 
scaramouches,  after  the  Italian  manner," 
&c. 

The  famous  comedian  Edwin,  (the 
Liston  of  his  day)  acted  the  part  of  Punch, 
in  a  piece  called  "  The  Mirror,"  at  Covent- 
garden  theatre :  in  this  he  introduced  a 
burlesque  song  by  C.  Dibdin,  which  ob- 
tained some  celebrity  ;  evidently  through 
the  merit  of  the  actor,  rather  than  the 
song,  as  it  has  nothing  particular  to  re- 
commend it. 

Can't  you  see  by  my  hunch,  sir, 

Faddeldy  daddeldy  diuo, 
I  am  master  Punch,  sir, 

Riberi  biberi  bino, 

Fiddeldy,  diddeldy,  faddeldy,  daddeldy, 
Robbery,  bobbery,  ribery,  bibery, 
Faddeldy,  daddeldy,  dino, 
Ribery,  bibery,  bino. 

That  merry  fellow 

Punchinello, 

Dancing  here,  you  see,  sir, 

Whose  mirth  not  hell 

Itself  can  quell 

He's  ever  in  such  glee,  sir, 
Niddlety,  noddlety,   niddlety,  noddlety, 
niddlety,  noddlety,  nino. 

Then  let  me  pass,  old  Grecian, 

Faddeldy,  daddeldy,  dino. 

To  the  fields  Elysian, 

Bibery,  bibery,  bino. 
Fiddledy,  diddledy,  faddledy,  daddledr, 
Robbery,  bobbery,  ribery,  bibery, 
Faddledy,  daddledy,  dino, 
Ribery,  bibery,  bino. 

My  ranting,  roaring  Pluto, 

Faddledy,  daddledy,  dino, 

Just  to  a  hair  will  suit  oh, 

Bibery,  bibery,  bino. 

Faddledy,  daddledy,  &c. 

Each  jovial  fellow, 

At  Punchinello, 

Will,  laughing  o'er  his  cup  roar, 

I'll  rant  and  revel, 

And  play  the  devil, 

And  set  all  hell  in  an  uproar, 

Niddlety,  noddlety,  nino. 
Then  let  me  pass,  &c. 

I  therewith  conclude  this  hasty  com- 
munication, begging  you  to  shorten  it  if 
you  think  proper. 

I 'am,  &c. 

W.  S . 


Edwin's  song  in  the  character  of  Punch 
is  far  less  offensive  than  many  of  the 
songs  and  scenes  in  "  Don  Juan,"  which 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  11. 


SCO 


is  still  represented.  This  drama  -which  is 
of  Italian  origin,  the  editor  of  the  Every- 
Day  Book,  in  his  volume  on  "  Ancient 
Mysteries,"  has  ventured  to  conjecture^ 
may  have  been  derived  from  the  adven- 
tures of  the  street  Punch.  The  supposition 


is  somewhat  heightened  by  Edwin's  song 
as  the  Punch  of  Covent-garden. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  48  •  32. 


aprtt  11. 


"  Merry  Islington." 


ISLINGTON  PARISH  DINNER. 

In  March,  an  anonymous  correspond- 
ent obligingly  enclosed,  and  begged  my 
acceptance  of  a  ticket,  for  a  parish  dinner 
at  Islington,  on  the  llth  of  April, 
1738.  It  would  have  been  rudeness  to 
decline  the  civility,  and  as  the  editor  was 
not  prepared  to  join  the  guests  at  the 
great  dinner,  "  not  where  they  eat,  but 
where  they  are  eaten,"  he  appropriates 
the  ticket  to  the  use  for  which  it  was  in- 
tended by  the  donor,  T.  H.  of  St.  John- 
street. 

It  would  do  the  reader's  heart  good  to 


see  this  ticket — "  printed  from  a  copper 
plate,"  ten  inches  high,  by  seven  inches 
wide — as  large  as  a  lord  mayor's  ticket, 
and  looking  much  better,  because  en- 
graved by  Toms,  a  fine  firm  artist  of  "  the 
good  old  school,"  which  taught  truth  as 
an  essential,  and  prohibited  refinements, 
not  existing  in  nature  or  sensible  objects, 
as  detraction  of  character. 

It  would  do  the  reader's  heart  good,  I 
say,  to  see  the  dinner  ticKet  I  am  now 
looking  afr  First,  above  the  invitation — 
which  is  all  that  the  lover  of  a  dinner  first 
sees — and  therefore,  because  nothing 


507 


THEEVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  11. 


508 


precedes  it,  "above  all"—  is  a  capital 
view  of  the  old  parish  church,  and  the 
churchyard,  wherein  "lie  the  remains" 
of  most  of  the  company  who  attended 
the  parish  dinner — it  being  as  certain  that 
the  remains  of  the  rest  of  the  company, 
occupy  other  tenements,  of  "  the  house 
appointed  for  all  living,"  as  that  they  all 
lived,  and  ate  and  drank,  and  were 
merry. 

This  is  not  a  melancholy,  but  a  natural 
"iew.  It  may  be  said,  there  is  "  a  time 
for  all  things,''  but  if  there  be  any  time, 
wherein  we  fear  to  entertain  death,  we 
are  not  fully  prepared  to  receive  him  as 
we  ought.  It  is  true,  that  with  "  the  cup 
of  kindness"  at  our  lips,  we  do  not  ex- 
pect his  friendly  "shake,"  before  we 
finish  the  draught,  yet  the  liquor  will  not 
be  the  worse  for  our  remembering  that 
his  is  a  previous  engagement;  and,  as 
we  do  not  know  the  hour  of  appointment, 
we  ought  to  be  ready  at  all  hours.  The 
business  of  life  is  to  die. 

I  am  not  a  member  of  a  parish  club, 
but  I  have  sometimes  thought,  if  I  could 
"  do  as  others  do,"  and  "  go  to  club," 
I  should  elect  to  belong  to  an  old  one, 
which  preserved  the  minutes  of  its  pro- 
ceedings, and  its  muniments,  from  the 
commencement.  My  first,  and  perhaps 
last,  serious  motion,  would  be,  "That 
each  anniversary  dinner  ticket  of  the 
club,  from  the  first  ticket  to  the  last 
issued,  should  be  framed  and  glazed,  and 
hung  on  the  walls  of  the  club  room,  in 
chronological  order."  Such  a  series 
would  be  a  never-failing  source  of  in- 
terest and  amusement.  If  the  parish 
club  of  Islington  exists,  a  collection  of 
its  tickets  so  disposed,  might  be  regarded 
as  annals  of  peculiar  worth,  especially  if 
many  of  its  predecessors  in  the  annual 
office  of  "stewards  for  the  dinner," 
maintained  the  consequence  of  the  club 
in  the  eyes  of  the  parish,  by  respectability 
of  execution  and  magnitude  in  the  anni- 
versary ticket,  commensurate  with  that  of 
the  year  1738,  with  Toms's  view  of  the 
old  parish  church  and  churchyard.  I 
regret  that  these  cannot  be  here  given  in 
the  same  size  as  on  the  ticket ;  the  best 
that  can  be  effected,  is  a  reduced  fac- 
simile of  the  original,  which  is  accom- 
plished in  the  accompanying  engrav- 
ing. Let  any  one  who  knows  the  new 
church  of  Islington,  compare  i^with  the 
present  view  of  the  old  church,  and  say 
which  church  he  prefers.  At  this  time, 
however,  the  present  church  ma,  be 


more  suitable  to  Islington,  grown,  or 
grown  up  to,  as  it  is,  until  it  is  a  part  of 
London  ;  but  who  would  not  wish  it  still 
a  village,  with  the  old  edifice  for  its 
parish  church.  That  Islington  is  now 
more  opulent  and  more  respectable,  may 
be  very  true ;  but  opulence  monopolizes, 
and  respectability  is  often  a  vain  show  in 
the  stead  of  happiness,  and  a  mere  flaunt 
on  the  ruins  of  comfort.  The  remark  is, 
of  course,  general,  and  not  of  Islington 
in  particular,  all  of  whose  opulent 
or  respectable  residents,  may  really  be 
so,  for  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary.  Be 
it  known  to  them,  however,  on  the  au- 
thority of  the  old  dinner  ticket,  that  their 
predecessors,  who  succeeded  the  inhab- 
itants from  whose  doings  the  village 
was  called  "merry  Islington,"  appear  to 
have  dined  at  a  reasonable  hour,  enjoyed 
a  cheerful  glass,  and  lived  in  good 
fellowship. 

Immediately  beneath  the  view  of  the 
old  church  on  the  ticket,  follows  the 
stewards'  invitation  to  the  dinner,  here 
copied  and  subjoined  verbatim. 


SIR, 

You  are  desir'd  to  meet  many  others, 
NATIVES  of  this  place,  on  TUESDAY, 
ye  llth  Day  of  April,  1738,  at  Mrs. 
ELIZ.  GRIMSTEAD'S,  ye  ANGEL  &  CROWN, 
in  ye  upper  Street,  about  ye  Hour  of 
ONE  ;  Then,  &  there  wth-  FULL  DISHES, 
GOOD  WINE,  &  GOOD  HUMOUR,  to  im- 
prove &  make  lasting  that  HARMONY, 
and  FRIENDSHIP  which  have  so  long 
reigned  among  us. 

Walter  Sebbon 
John  Booth 
Bourchier  Durell 
James  Sebbon 

STEWARDS. 

N.B. — THE  DINNER  will  be  on  the 
Table  peremptorily  at  Two. 

Pray  Pay  the.  Bearer  Five  Shillings. 

"  Merry  Islington  !" — We  may  almost 
fancy  we  see  the  "jolly  companions,  every 
one,"  in  their  best  wigs,  ample  coats,  and 
embroidered  waistcoats,  at  their  dinner ; 
that  we  hear  the  bells  ringing  out  from 
the  square  tower  of  the  old  church,  and 
the  people  and  boys  outside  the  door  of 
the  "Angel  and  Crown,  in  ye  Upper 
Street,"  huzzaing  and  rejoicing,  that  their 
betters  were  dining  "for  the  good  of  the 


609 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  12. 


510 


parish"  —  for    so    they   did  :     read    the 
ticket  again. 

England  is  proverbially  called  "  the 
ringing  island,"  which  is  not  the  worst 
thing  to  say  of  it ;  and  our  forefathers 
were  great  eaters  and  hard  drinkers,  and 
that  is  not  the  worst  thing  to  say  of  them  ; 
but  of  our  country  we  can  also  tell  better 
things,  and  keep  our  bells  to  cheer  our 
stories;  and  from  our  countrymen  we 
can  select  names  among  the  living  and 
the  dead  that  would  dignify  any  spot  of 
earth.  Let  us  then  be  proud  of  our 
ancient  virtue,  and  keep  it  alive,  and 
add  to  it.  If  each  will  do  what  he  can 
to  take  care  that  the  world  is  not  the 
worse  for  his  existence,  posterity  will 
relate  that  their  ancestors  did  well  in  it. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  46  •  60. 

3prtl  12. 

SIGN  OF  RAIN. 

One  of  the  "  Hundred  Mery  Tales" 
teacheth  that,  ere  travellers  depart  their 
homes,  they  should  know  natural  signs; 
insomuch  that  they  provide  right  array, 
or  make  sure  that  they  be  safely  housed 
against  tempest.  Our  Shakspeare  read 
the  said  book  of  tales,  which  is  there- 
fore called  «  Shakspeare's  Jest  Book;" 
and  certain  it  is,  that  though  he  were  not 
skilled  in  learning  of  the  schoolmen,  by 
reason  that  he  did  not  know  their  lan- 
guages, yet  was  he  well  skilled  in  English, 
and  a  right  wise  observer  of  things ; 
wherein,  if  we  be  like  diligent,  we,  also, 
may  attain  unto  his  knowledge.  Where- 
fore, learn  to  take  heed  against  rain,  by  the 
tale  ensuing. 

Of  the  herdsman  that  said,  "  Ride  apace, 
ye  shall  have  rain." 

A  certain  scholar  of  Oxford,  which  had 


studied  the  judicials  of  astronomy,  upon 
a  time  as  he  was  riding  by  the  way,  there 
came  by  a  herdman,  and  he  asked  this 
herdman  how  far  it  was  to  the  next  town ; 
"  Sir,"  quoth  the  herdman,  "  it  is  rather 
past  a  mile  and  an  half;"  but,  sir,"  quoth 
he,  "  ye  need  to  ride  apace,  for  ye  shall 
have  a  shower  of  rain  ere  ye  come 
thither."  "  What,"  quoth  the  scholar, 
"  maketh  ye  say  so?  there  is  no  token  of 
rain,  for  the  clouds  be  both  fair  and  clear." 
"  By  my  troth,"  quoth  the  herdsman, 
"  but  ye  shall  find  it  so." 

The  scholar  then  rode  forth,  and  it 
chanced  ere  he  had  ridden  half  a  mile  fur- 
ther, there  fell  a  good  shower  of  rain,  that 
the  scholar  was  well  washed,  and  wet  to 
the  skin.  The  scholar  then  turned  him  back 
and  rode  to  the  herdman,  and  desired  him 
to  teach  him  that  cunning.  "  Nay,"  quoth 
the  herdman,  "  I  will  not  teach  you  my 
cunning  for  naught."  Then  the  schokr 
proffered  him  eleven  shillings  to  teach 
him  that  cunning.  The  herdman,  after 
he  had  received  his  money,  said  thus  : — 
"  Sir,  see  you  not  yonder  black  ewe  with 
the  white  face?"  "  Yes,"  quoth  the 
scholar.  "Surely,"  quoth  the  herdman, 
"  when  she  danceth  and  holdeth  up  her 
tail,  ye  shall  have  a  shower  of  rain  within 
half  an  hour  afte..'' 

By  this  ye  may  see,  that  the  cunning 
of  herd  men  and  shepherds,  as  touching 
alterations  of  weathers,  is  more  sure  than 
the  judicials  of  astronomy. 


Upon  this  story  it  seemeth  right  to 
conclude,  that  to  stay  at  home,  when 
rain  be  foreboded  by  signs  natural,  is 
altogether  wise ;  for  though  thy  lodging 
be  poor,  it  were  better  to  be  in  it,  and  so 
keep  thy  health,  than  to  travel  in  the  wet 
through  a  rich  country  and  get  rheums 
thereby. 


Home. 

Cling  to  thy  home  !     If  there  the  meanest  shed 
Yield  thee  a  hearth  and  shelter  for  thine  head, 
And  some  poor  plot,  with  vegetables  stored, 
Be  all  that  pride  allots  thee  for  thy  board, 
Unsavoury  bread,  and  herbs  that  scatter'd  grow, 
Wild  on  the  river's  brink  or  mountain's  brow, 
Yet  e'en  this  cheerless  mansion  shall  provide 
More  heart's  repose  than  all  the  world  beside. 

Leonidatt  of  Tarentum 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  46  •  76. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APHlL  13,  14  Mi 

13.  vast  height  *n  a  spiral  direction.  Those 
who  desire  to  see  it  must  pursue  a  swampy 
route,  through  watery  fens,  quagmires, 

About   this   time,    according    to    Dr.  bogs,    and   marshes.     The   heron,   ardea 

Forster,  whose  observations  on  the  migra-  major,  has  now  a  nest,  and  is  seen  sailing 

tions  and  habits  of  birds,  are  familiar  to  about  slowly  in  the  air  in  search  of  its 

most  persons  acquainted  with  the  natural  fishy  prey,  travelling  from  one  fish  pond 

history  of  our   island,  the   bittern,  ardea  to  another,  over  a  large  tract  of  country. 

stellata,  begins  to  make  a  booming  noise  It  is  a   bird  of  slow  and  heavy   flight, 

in  marshy  places  at  eventide.     The  deep  though  it  floats  on  large  and  expansive 

and  peculiar  hollow  tone  of  this  bird  in  wings. 

the  breeding  season,  can  hardly  be  mis-  

taken  for  that  of  any  other:    it  differs  NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 

essentially  from  the  note  of  the  same  bird  Mean  Temperature  .  .  46.  •  57. 

when  on  the  wing.  

The  bittern  booms  along  the   sounding  £|lH*tl    14. 

Mixt  with  the  cries  of  heron  and  mallard  SPRING. 

harsh.  Genial  weather  at  the  commencement 

The  bittern  sits  all  day  hid  among  the  of  the  year,  dresses    the  meadows   with 

reeds  and  rushes  with  its  head  erect ;  at  the  common  and  beautiful  flowers  thai 

night  it  rises  on  the  wing,  and  soars  to  a  delight  childhood. 

The  Cowslip. 

Cowslip,  of  all  beloved,  of  all  admired ! 
Thee  let  me  sing,  the  homely  shepherd's  pride ; 
Fit  emblem  of  the  maid  I  love,  a  form 
Gladdening  the  sight  of  man;  a  sweet  perfume, 
Sending  its  balmy  fragrance  to  the  soul 
Daughter  of  Spring  and  messenger  of  May, 
Which  shall  I  first  declare,  which  most  extol, 
Thy  sovereign  beauties,  or  thy  sovereign  use  ? 
With  thee  the  rural  dame  a  draught  prepares, 
A  nectarous  draught,  more  luscious  to  my  taste 
Than  all  thy  boasted  wine,  besotted  Bacchus ! 
Maidens  with  thee  their  auburn  tresses  braid ; 
Or,  with  the  daisy  and  the  primrose  pale, 
Thy  flowers  entwining,  weave  a  chaplet  fair, 
To  grace  that  pole  round  which  the  village  train 
Lead  on  their  dance  to  greet  the  jocund  May  ; 
Jocund  I'll  call  it,  for  it  lends  a  smile 
To  thee,  who  never  smil'st  but  once  a  year. 
I  name  thee  not,  thou  poor  unpitied  wretch  1 
Of  all  despised,  save  him  whose  liberal  heart 
Taught  him  to  feel  your  wrongs,  and  plead  your  cause, 
Departed  Hanway  !     Peace  be  to  his  soul ! 
Great  is  that  man,  who  quits  the  path  of  fame, 
Who,  wealth  forsaking,  stoops  his  towering  mind 
From  learning's  heights,  and  stretches  out  his  arm 
To  raise  from  dust  the  meanest  of  his  kind. 
Now  that  the  muse  to  thee  her  debt  has  paid, 
Friend  of  the  poor  and  guardian  of  the  wronged, 
Back  let  her  pleased  return,  to  view  those  sports, 
Whose  rude  simplicity  has  charms  for  me 
Beyond  the  ball  or  midnight  masquerade. 
Oft  on  that  merry  morn  I've  joined  their  throng, 
A  glad  spectator;  oft  their  uncouth  dance 
Eyed  most  attentive ;  when,  with  tawdry  show, 
Illsorted  ribbons  decked  each  maiden's  cap, 
And  cowslip  garlands  every  rustic  hat. 


513 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  15. 


514 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature.  . .  47  •  44. 


15. 


SEASONABLE. 

To   the   Reader. 

On  Saturday,  the  15th  of  April,  1B26, 
'No.  68,  and  Part  XVII.,  of  the  Every- 
Day  Book,  forming  No.  16,  and  Part  IV. 
of  the  second  volume,  were  published  by 
Messrs.  HUNT  and  CLARKE,  of  Tavistock- 
street,  Covent-garden.  As  the  removal 
of  the  office  from  Ludgate-hill  may  be  an 
event  of  as  much  interest  to  the  friends 
of  the  work  as  any  other  belonging  to  the 
day  it  is  recorded  here  with  the  fol- 
lowing explanation  which  was  printed  on 
the  wrapper  of  the  part  :  — 

"  This  step  relieves  me  from  cares 
and  anxieties  which  so  embarassed 
my  progress,  in  conducting  and  wri- 
ting the  work,  as  to  become  over- 
whelming ;  and  Messrs.  Hunt  and 
Clarke  will  publish  it  much  earlier 
than  hitherto. 

"To  subscribers  the  present  ar- 
rangement will  be  every  way  benefi- 
cial. 

"  They  will  have  the  Every-Day 
Book  punctually  at  a  proper  hour  ; 
and,  as  I  shall  be  enabled  to  give  it 
the  time  and  attention  essential  to  a 
thorough  fulfilment  of  its  plan,  my  ex- 
ertions will,  henceforth,be  incessantly 
directed  to  that  end.  I,  therefore, 
respectfully  and  earnestly  solicit  the 
friends  of  the  work  to  aid  me  by 
their  contributions.  At  the  present 
moment  they  will  be  most  acceptable. 
"  CORRESPONDENTS  will,  from  this 
day,  be  pleased  to  address  letters  and 
parcels  to  me,  at  Messrs.  Hunt  and 
Clarke's,  Tavistock-street,  Covent- 
garden.  W.  HONE." 

fjjj^0  Six  INDEXES,  with  a  Preface, 
Title-page,  and  Frontispiece  to  the  first 
volume,  will  be  ready  for  delivery  before 
the  appearance  of  the  next  sheet  ;  and  I 
hope  the  labour  by  which  I  have  endea- 
voured to  facilitate  reference  to  every 
general  and  particular  subject,  may  be  re- 
ceived as  somewhat  of  atonement,  for  the 
delay  in  these  essentials.  To  guard 
against  a  similar  accident,  I  have  already 
commenced  the  index  to  the  second 
volume.  W.  HONE. 

April  15,  1826. 

VOL.  II.—  69. 


%*  VOLUME  I.  contains  863  octavo 
pages,  or  1736  columns,  illustrate'd 
by  One  Hundred  and  Seventy  engrav- 
ings :  Price  14*.  in  boards. 

PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASON. 

Song  Birds. 

If  we  happen  to  be  wandering  forth  on 
a  warm  still  evening  during  the  last  week 
in  this  month,  and  passing  near  a  road- 
side orchard,  or  skirting  a  little  copse  in 
returning  from  our  twilight  ramble,  or 
sitting  listlessly  on  a  lawn  near  some  thick 
plantation,  waiting  for  bed  time,  we  may 
chance  to  be  startled  from  our  meditations 
(of  whatever  kind  they  may  be)  by  a 
sound  issuing  from  among  the  distant 
leaves,  that  scares  away  the  silence  in  a 
moment,  and  seems  to  put  to  flight  even 
the  darkness  itself; — stirring  the  spirit, 
and  quickening  the  blood,  as  no  other 
mere  sound  can,  unless  it  be  that  of  a 
trumpet  calling  to  battle.  That  is  the 
nightingale's  voice.  The  cold  spells  of 
winter,  that  had  kept  him  so  long  tongue- 
tied,  and  frozen  the  deep  fountains  of  his 
heart,  yield  before  the  mild  breath  of 
spring,  and  he  is  voluble  once  more.  It  is 
as  if  the  flood  of  song  had  been  swelling 
within  his  breast  ever  since  it  last  ceased 
to  flow ;  and  was  now  gushing  forth  uncon- 
troullably,  and  as  if  he  had  no  will  to  con- 
troul  it :  for  when  it  does  stop  for  a  space, 
it  is  suddenly,  as  if  for  want  of  breath. 
In  our  climate  the  nightingale  seldom 
sings  above  six  weeks  ;  beginning  usually 
the  last  week  in  April.  I  mention  this 
because  many,  who  would  be  delighted 
to  hear  him,  do  not  think  of  going  to 
listen  for  his  song  till  after  it  has  ceased. 
1  believe  it  is  never  to  be  heard  after  the 
young  are  hatched. — Now,  too,  the  pretty, 
pert-looking  blackcap  first  appears,  and 
pours  forth  his  tender  and  touching  love- 
song,  scarcely  inferior,  in  a  certain  plain- 
tive inwardness,  to  the  autumn  song  of 
the  robin.  The  mysterious  little  grass- 
hopper lark  also  runs  whispering  within 
the  nedgerows ;  the  redstart  pipes  pret- 
tily upon  the  apple  trees;  the  golden- 
crowned  wren  chirps  in  the  kitchen- 
garden,  as  she  watches  for  the  new  sown 
seeds;  and  lastly,  the  thrush,  who  has 
hitherto  given  out  but  a  desultory  note  at 
intervals,  to  let  us  know  that  he  was  not 
away,  now  haunts  the  same  tree,  and  fre- 
quently the  same  branch  cf  it,  day  afte» 
day,  and  sings  an  "English  Melody"  thnt 
even  Mr.  Moore  himself  could  not  write 
appropriate  words  to. 


515 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  16. 


516 


NATURALISTS      CALENDAR, 

Mean  Temperature  ...  48  *  16. 

april  16. 

C.  L.,  whose  papers  under  these  initials 
on  "  Captain  Starkey,"*  "  The  Ass,  No. 
2,f"  and  "  Squirrels,"]:  besides  other 
communications,  are  in  the  first  volume, 
drops  the  following  pleasant  article  "  in 
an  hour  of  need." 

THE  MONTHS. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Rummaging  over  the  contents  of  an 
old  stall  at  a  half  book,  half  old  iron  shop, 
in  an  alley  leading  from  Wardour-street 
to  Soho-square  yesterday,  I  lit  upon  a 
ragged  duodecimo,  which  had  been  the 
strange  delight  of  my  infancy,  and  which 
I  had  lost  sight  of  for  more  than  forty 
years  : — the  "  QUEEN-LIKE  CLOSET,  or 
RICH  CABINET  :"  written  by  Hannah 
Woolly,  and  printed  for  R.  C.  &  T.  S. 
1681 ;  being  an  abstract  of  receipts  in 
cookery,  confectionary,  cosmetics,  needle- 
work, morality,  and  all  such  branches  of 
what  were  then  considered  as  female 
accomplishments.  The  price  demanded 
was  sixpence,  which  the  owner  (a  little 
squab  duodecimo  of  a  character  himself) 
enforced  with  the  assurance  that  his 
"  own  mother  should  not  have  it  for  a 
farthing  less."  On  my  demurring  at  this 
extraordinary  assertion,  the  dirty  little 
vendor  reinforced  his  assertion  with  a 
sort  of  oath,  which  seemed  more  than  the 
occasion  demanded :  "  and  now  (said 
he)  I  have  put  my  soul  to  it."  Pressed 
by  so  solemn  an  asseveration,  I  could  no 
longer  resist  a  demand  which  seemed  to 
set  me,  however  unworthy,  upon  a  level 
with  his  dearest  relations ;  and  depositing 
a  tester,  I  bore  away  the  tattered  prize  in 
triumph.  I  remembered  a  gorgeous  de- 
scription of  the  twelve  months  of  the 
year,  which  I  thought  would  be  a  fine 
substitute  for  those  poetical  descriptions 
of  them  which  your  Every-Day  Book  had 
nearly  exhausted  out  of  Spenser,  This 
will  be  a  treat,  thought  I,  for  friend 
HONE.  To  memory  they  seemed  no  less 
fantastic  and  splendid  than  the  other. 
But,  what  are  the  mistakes  of  childhood  ! 
— on  reviewing  them,  they  turned  out  to 
be  only  a  set  of  common-place  receipts  for 
working  the  seasons,  months,  heathen 
gods  and  goddesses,  &c.  in  samplars  ! 
Yet  as  an  instance  of  the  homely  oc- 

*Vol.  i   965.         4  Ibid.  1358.         J  Ibid.  1336. 


cupations  of  our  great- grandmothers, 
they  may  be  amusing  to  some  readers  : 
"  I  have  seen/'  says  the  notable  Hannah 
Woolly,  "  such  Ridiculous  things  done  in 
work,  as  it  is  an  abomination  to  any 
Artist  to  behold.  As  for  example  :  You 
may  find  in  some  Pieces,  Abraham  and 
Sarah,  and  many  other  Persons  of  Old 
time,  Cloathed,  as  they  go  now  a-daies, 
and  truly  sometimes  worse  ;  for  they 
most  resemble  the  Pictures  on  Ballads. 
Let  all  Ingenious  Women  have  regard, 
that  when  they  work  any  Image,  to  re- 
present it  aright.  First,  let  it  be  Drawn 
well,  and  then  observe  the  Directions 
which  are  given  by  Knowing  Men.  I  do 
assure  you,  I  never  durst  work  any 
Scripture-Story  without  informing  my 
self  from  the  Ground  of  it :  nor  any  other 
Story,  or  single  Person,  without  inform- 
ing my  self  both  of  the  Visage  and 
Habit ;  As  followeth. 

"  If  you  work  Jupiter,  the  Imperial 
feigned  God,  He  must  have  long  Black- 
Curled-hair,  a  Purple  Garment  trimmed 
with  Gold,  and  sitting  upon  a  Golden 
Throne,  with  bright  yellow  Clouds  about 
him." 

The  Twelve  Months  of  the  Year. 
March. 

Is  drawn  in  Tawny,  with  a  fierce  as- 
pect, a  Helmet  upon  his  head,  and  lean- 
ing on  ^  Spade,  and  a  Basket  of  Garden 
Seeds  in  his  Left  hand,  and  in  his  Right 
hand  the  Sign  of  Aries  :  and  Winged. 

April. 

A  Young  Man  in  Green,  with  a  Gar- 
land of  Mirtle,  and  Hawthorn-buds; 
Winged;  in  one  hand  Primroses  and 
Violets,  in  the  other  the  Sign  Taurus. 

May. 

With  a  Sweet  and  lovely  Countenance, 
clad  in  a  Robe  of  White  and  Green,  em- 
broidered with  several  Flowres,  upon  his 
Head  a  garland  of  all  manner  of  Roses  ; 
on  the  one  hand  a  Nightingale,  in  the 
other  a  Lute.  His  sign  must  be  Gemini. 

June. 

In  a  Mantle  of  dark  Grass  green,  upon 
his  Head  a  garland  of  Bents,  Kings-Cups, 
and  Maiden-hair ;  in  his  Left  hand  un 
Angle,  with  a  box  of  Cantharides,  in  his 
Right  the  Sign  Cancer,  and  upon  his 
arms  a  Basket  of  seasonable  Fruits. 

July. 

In  a  Jacket  of  light  Yellow,  eating 
Cherries  ;  with  his  Face  and  Bosom  Sun- 


517 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  16. 


518 


burnt ;  on  his  Head  a  wreath  of  Centaury 
and  wild  Tyrae ;  a  Scythe  on  his  shoulder, 
and  a  bottle  at  his  girdle :  carrying  the 
Sign  Leo. 

August. 

A  Young  Man  of  fierce  and  Cholerick 
aspect,  in  a  Flame-coloured  Garment; 
upon  his  Head  a  garland  of  Wheat  and 
Rye,  upon  his  Arm  a  Basket  of  all  man- 
ner of  ripe  Fruits,  at  his  Belt  a  Sickle. 
His  Sign  Virgo. 

September. 

A  merry  and  chereful  Countenance, 
in  a  Purple  Robe,  upon  his  Head  a 
Wreath  oi  red  and  white  Grapes,  in  his 
Left  hand  a  handful  of  Oats,  withall 
carrying  a  Horn  of  Plenty,  full  of  all 
manner  of  ripe  Fruits,  in  his  Right  hand 
the  Sign  Libra. 

October, 

In  a  Garment  of  Yellow  and  Carna- 
tion, upon  his  head  a  garland  of  Oak- 
leaves  with  Akorns,  in  his  Right  hand 
the  Sign  Scorpio,  in  his  Left  hand  a 
Basket  of  Medlars,  Services,  and  Ches- 
nuts;  and  any  other  Fruits  then  in 
Season. 

November. 

In  a  Garment  of  Changeable  Green 
and  Black  upon  his  Head,  a  garland  of 
Olives  with  the  Fruit  in  his  Left  hand, 
Bunches  of  Parsnips  and  Turnips  in  his 
Right.  His  Sign  Sagittarius. 

December. 

A  horrid  and  fearful  aspect,  clad  in 
Irish-Rags,  or  course  Freez  girt  unto  him, 
upon  his  Head  three  or  four  Night-Caps, 
and  over  them  a  Turkish  Turbant ;  his 
Nose  red,  his  Mouth  and  Beard  clog'd 
with  Isicles,  at  his  back  a  bundle  of 
Holly,  Ivy  or  Misletoe,  holding  in  fur'd 
Mittens  the  Sign  of  Capricornus. 

January, 

Clad  all  in  White,  as  the  Earth  looks 
with  the  Snow,  blowing  his  nails  ;  in  his 
Left  Arm  a  Bilet,  the  Sign  Aquarius 
standing  by  his  side. 

February. 

Cloathed  in  a  dark  Skie-colour,  carry- 
ing in  his  Right  hand  the  Sign  Pisces. 

The  following  receipt,  "  To  dress  up  a 
Chimney  very  fine  for  the  Summer 
time,  as  I  have  done  many,  and  they 
have  been  liked  very  well."  may  not 
be  unprofitable  to  the  housewives  of 
this  century. 


"  First,  take  a  pack-thred  and  fasten  ft 
even  to  the  inner  part  of  the  Chimney,  sa 
high  as  that  you  can  see  no  higher  as  you 
walk  up  and  down  the  House ;  you  must 
drive  in  several  Nails  to  hold  up  all  your 
work;  then  get  good  store  of  old  green 
Moss  from  Trees,  and  melt  an  equal 
proportion  of  Bees-wax  and  Rosin  to- 
gether and  while  it  is  hot,  dip  the  wrong 
ends  of  the  Moss  in  it,  and  presently  clap 
it  upon  your  pack-thred,  and  press  it 
down  hard  with  your  hand  ;  you  must 
make  hast,  else  it  will  cool  before  you 
can  fasten  it,  and  then  it  will  fall  down ; 
do  so  all  round  where  the  pack-thred 
goes,  and  the  next  row  you  must  joyn 
to  that,  so  that  it  may  seem  all  in  one ; 
thus  do  till  you  have  finished  it  down  to 
the  bottom :  then  take  some  other  kind 
of  Moss,  of  a  whitish-colour  and  stiff, 
and  of  several  sorts  or  kinds,  and  place 
that  upon  the  other,  here  and  there 
carelessly,  and  in  some  places  put  a  good 
deal,  and  some  a  little ;  then  any  kind  of 
fine  Snail-shels,  in  which  the  Snails  are 
dead,  and  little  Toad  .stools,  which  are 
very  old,  and  look  like  Velvet,  or  any 
other  thing  that  was  old  and  pretty  ;  place 
it  here  and  Jhere  as  your  fancy  serves, 
and  fasten  all  with  Wax  and  Rosin. 
Then  for  the  Hearth  of  your  Chimney, 
you  may  lay  some  Orpan-Sprigs  in  order 
all  over,  and  it  will  grow  as  it  lies ;  and 
according  to  the  Season,  get  what  flow- 
ers you  can,  and  stick  in  as  if  they  grew, 
and  a  few  sprigs  of  Sweet-Bryer :  the 
Flowers  you  must  renew  every  W  eek ; 
but  the  Moss  will  last  all  the  Summer, 
till  it  will  be  time  to  make  a  fire ;  and 
the  Orpan  will  last  near  two  Months.  A 
Chimney  thus  done  doth  grace  a  Room 
exceedingly." 

One  phrase  in  the  above  should  particu- 
larly recommend  it  to  such  of  your  female 
readers,  as,  in  the  nice  language  of  the  day, 
have  done  growing  some  time  :  "  little 
toad  stools,  &c.  and  any  thing  that  is  old 
and  pretty"  Was  ever  antiquity  so 
smoothed  over?  The  culinary  recipes 
have  nothing  remarkable  in  them,  besides 
the  costliness  of  them.  Every  thing  (to 
the  meanest  meats)  is  sopped  in  claret, 
steeped  in  claret,  basted  with  claret,  as  if 
claret  were  as  cheap  as  ditch  water.  I 
remember  Bacon  recommends  opening  a 
turf  or  two  in  your  garden  walks,  and 
pouring  into  each  a  bottle  of  claret,  to 
recreate  the  sense  of  smelling,  being  no 
less  grateful  than  beneficial.  We  hope  the 
chancellor  of  the  exchequer  will  attend  to 


.119 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  16. 


520 


*his  in  his  next  reduction  of  French  wines, 
that  we  may  once  more  water  our  gardens 
with  right  Bourdeaux.  The  medical  re- 
cipes are  as  whimsical  as  they  are  cruel. 
Our  ancestors  were  not  at  all  effeminate  on 
this  head.  Modern  sentimentalists  would 
shrink  at  a  cock  plucked  and  bruised  in  a 
mortar  alive,  to  make  a  cullis ;  or  a  live 
mole  baked  in  an  oven  (be  sure  it  be  alive) 
to  make  a  powder  for  consumption. — But 
the  whimsicalest  of  all  are  the  directions 
to  servants — (for  this  little  book  is  a  com- 
pendium of  all  duties,) — the  footman  is 
seriously  admonished  not  to  stand  lolling 
against  his  master's  chair,  while  he  waits 
at  table ;  for  "  to  lean  on  a  chair,  when 
they  wait,  is  a  particular  favoui  shown  to 
any  superior  servant,  as  the  chief  gentle- 
man, or  the  waiting  woman  when  she 
rises  from  the  table."  Also  he  must  not 
"  hold  the  plates  before  his  mouth  to  be 
defiled  with  his  breath,  nor  touch  them 
on  the  right  [inner]  side."  Surely  Swift 
must  have  seen  this  little  treatise. 

C.  L. 

Hannah  concludes  with  the  following 
address,  by  which  the  self-estimate  which 
she  formed  of  her  usefulness,  may  be  cal- 
culated : — 

"  Ladies,  I  hope  you're  pleas'd  and  so  shall  I 
If  what  I've  writ,  you  may  be  gainers  by  ; 
If  not ;  it  is  your  fault,  it  is  not  mine, 
Your  benefit  in  this  I  do  design. 
Much  labour  and  much  time  it  hath  me  cost, 
Therefore  I  beg,  let  none  of  it  be  lost. 
The  money  you  shall  pay  for  this  my  book, 
You'll  not  repent  of,  when  in  it  you  look. 
No  more  at  present  to  you  I  shall  say, 
But  wish  you  all  the  happiness  I  may." 


It  may  be  more  strongly  objected,  that 
many  of  his  allusions  are  reprehensible  ; 
and,"  as  regards  himself,  though  he  pre- 
tended to  respect  the  ties  of  society,  he 
constantly  violated  private  morals.  As 
an  instance  of  his  vanity,  it  is  reported 
that  he  said,  "  the  works  of  eminent 
geniuses  are  few  ;  they  are  only  those  of 
Newton,  Bacon,  Leibnitz,  Montesquieu, 
and  my  own."  He  was  ennobled  by 
patent ;  and  no  less  distinguished  by 
academical  honours,  than  by  his  own 
talents.  He  left  a  son,  who,  in  1 793,  was 
guillotined  under  Robespierre.* 

BUBBLES. 

Worthless  speculations,  in  recent  times, 
have  distressed  and  ruined  thousands  by 
their  explosion;  and  yet  this  has  hap- 
pened with  the  experience  of  former  suf- 
ferers before  us  as  matter  of  history.  In 
the  reign  of  James  L,  speculators  preyed 
on  public  credulity  under  the  authority  of 
the  great  seal,  till  the  government  inter- 
posed by  annulling  the  patents.  In  the 
reigns  of  Anne  and  George  L,  another 
race  of  swindlers  deluded  the  unthinking 
with  private  lotteries  and  schemes  of  all 
sorts.  The  consequences  of  the  South  Sea 
bubble,  at  a  later  period,  afflicted  every 
family  in  the  nation,  from  the  throne  to 
the  labourer's  hut.  So  recently  as  the  year 
1809,  there  were  similar  atlempts  on  a 
less  scale,  with  similar  results.  The  pro- 
jects of  1824-5,  which  lingered  till  1826, 
were  raining  companies. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  16th  of  April,  1788,  died,  at 
the  age  of  eighty-one,  the  far-famed  count 
de  Buffon,  a  man  of  uncommon  genius  and 
surprising  eloquence,  and  often  styled  the 
"  French  Pliny,"  because,  like  that  philo- 
sopher, he  studied  natural  history.  Buffon 
was,  perhaps,  the  most  astonishing  inter- 
preter of  nature  that  ever  existed.*  His 
descriptions  are  luminous  and  accurate, 
and  every  where  display  a  spirit  of  philo- 
sophical observation ;  but  the  grand  de- 
fect of  his  work  is  want  of  method,  and 
he  rejects  the  received  principles  of  clas- 
sification, and  throws  his  subjects  into 
groups  from  general  points  of  resemblance. 


In  the  reign  of  George  L,  a  Mr.  Fal- 
lowfield  issued  "  proposals  for  making 
iron,"  wherein  he  introduces  some  reflec- 
tions on  the  miscarriages  of  Mr.  Wood's 
project  of  "  making  iron  with  pulverised 
ore."  Fallowfield  had  obtained  a  patent 
for  making  iron  with  peat,  but  delayed 
some  time  his  putting  it  in  practice,  be- 
cause of  the  mighty  bustle  made  by  Mr. 
Wood  and  his  party.  The  proceedings 
of  the  latter  projector  furnish  a  fact  under 
the  present  day. 

It  appears  from  the  following  state- 
ment, that  Mr.  Wood  persisted  till  his 
scheme  was  blown  into  air  by  his  own 
experiments.  • 

April  16,  173.1.  "  The  proprietors  assert 
that  the  iron  so  proposed  to  be  made,  and 
which  they  actually  did  make  at  Chelsea, 
on  Monday,  the  1 6th  instant,  is  not  brittle, 


Btitler's  Chronological  Exercues. 


•  General  Biog.  Diet. 


521 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— APRlL  17,18. 


i>'22 


but  tough,  and  fit  for  all  uses,  and  is  to  be 
manufactured  with  as  little  waste  of 
metal,  labour,  and  expense,  as  any  other 
iron ;  and  that  it  may  and  can  be  made 
for  less  than  10f.  a  ton,  which  they  will 
make  apparent  to  any  curious  inquirer/' 
Whether  this  "  call"  upon  the  "  curious 
inquirer"  was  designed  to  introduce 
"  another  call"  upon  the  shareholders  is 
not  certain,  but  the  call  was  answered  by 
those  to  whom  it  was  ostensibly  address- 
ed ;  for  there  is  a  notice  of  "  Mr.  Wood's 
operators  failing  in  their  last  trial  at  Chel- 
sea, the  llth  instant  (May;)  their  iron 
breaking  to  pieces  when  it  came  under 
the  great  hammer."*  They  excused  it  by 
saying  the  inspectors  had  purposely  poi- 
soned the  iron !  Had  the  assertion  been 
true,  Wood's  project  might  have  survived 
the  injury ;  but  it  died  of  the  poison  on 
the  3d  of  May,  1731,  notwithstanding  the 
affirmations  of  the  proprietors,  that  "  they 
actually  did  make  iron  at  Chelsea,  on 
Monday  the  16th  of  April." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  47  •  95. 

Sprtl  17. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

Sir  William  Davenant,  the  reviver  of 
the  drama  after  the  restoration  of  Charles 
II.,  'and  patentee  of  the  theatre  in  Lin- 
coln's-inn-fields,  died  on  the  17th  of  April, 
1668.  He  was  the  son  of  an  innkeeper 
at  Oxford,  where  he  was  born  in  1605  ; 
and  after  studying  at  Lincoln-college, 
became  a  page  to  Greville,  lord  Brooke, 
a  literary  nobleman,  who  encouraged  his 
attainments.  He  cultivated  acquaintance 
with  the  poetic  muse,  and  the  eminent 
wits  of  his  time.  His  imagination,  de- 
praved by  sensuality,  was  unequal  to  ex- 
tensive flights  in  pure  regions.  He  wrote 
chiefly  to  the  taste  of  the  court,  prepared 
masques  for  its  entertainment,  and,  on 
the  death  of  Ben  Jonson,  had  the  honour 
of  the  laureateship  He  served  in  the  army 
of  Charles  I.  against  the  parliament ;  was 
made  lieutenant-general  of  the  ordnance, 
knighted  by  the  king  at  the  siege  of  Glou- 
cester, and,  on  the  decline  of  the  royal 
cause,  retired  to  France,  where  he  became 
a  Roman  catholic.  In  attempting  to 
conduct  a  French  colony  to  Virginia,  he 
was  captured  by  a  parliament  cruiser,  and 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine, 


imprisoned  in  Cowes  Castle,  where  he 
employed  himself  on  "  Gondibert,"  a 
heroic  poem,  which  he  never  finished. 
On  this  occasion  his  life  was  saved  by 
Milton  ;  and,  when  public  affairs  were 
reversed,  Davenant  repaid  the  service  by 
protecting  Milton.* 

Davenant's  face  was  deformed  by  the 
consequences  of  vicious  indulgence.  Tne 
deficiency  of  feature  exemplified  in  his 
portrait,  is  referred  to  by  a  note  on  a 
celebrated  line  in  lord  Byron's  "  Cursetof 
Minerva/' 

Davenant  and  Shakspeare. 
Pope  is  said  to  have  placed  Davenant, 
as  a  poet,  above  Donne  ;f  but,  notwith- 
standing the  authority,  it  is  questionable 
whether  Pope's  judgment  could  have  so 
erred.  He  is  further  said  to  have  ob- 
served, that  Davenant  "  seemed  fond  of 
having  it  taken  for  truth,"  that  he  was 
"  more  than  a  poetical  child  of  Shak- 
speare ;"  that  he  was  Shakspeare's  godson ; 
and  that  Shakspeare  in  his  frequent  jour- 
nies  between  London  and  his  native 
place,  Stratford-upon-Avon,  used  to  lie  at 
Davenant's,  the  Crown,  in  Oxford.  He 
was  very  well  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Da- 
venant ;  and  her  son^afterwards  sir  Wil- 
liam, was  supposed  to  be  more  nearly 
related  to  him  than  as  a  godson  only. 
One  day  when  Shakspeare  had  just  ar- 
rived, and  the  boy  sent  for  from  school  to 
him,  a  head  of  one  of  the  colleges  (who 
was  pretty  well  acquainted  with  the  affairs 
of  the  family)  met  the  child  running 
home,  and  asked  him,  whither  he  was 
going  in  so  much  haste?  The  boy  said, 
"  To  my  godfather,  Shakspeare."  "  Fie, 
child,"  says  the  old  gentleman,  "  why  are 
you  so  superfluous  ?  have  you  not  learned 
yet  that  you  should  not  use  the  name  of 
God  in  vain  ?*  The  imputation  is  very 
doubtful. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  47  •  00. 

aprtl  18. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  this  day,  in  the  year  17  ,  there 
was  a  solemn  mock  procession,  according 
to  the  fashion  of  the  times,  in  ridicule  of 
freemasonry,  by  an  assemblage  of  hu- 

*  General  Biog.  Diet. 
t  Spence. 


523 


THE  EVERYDAY  BOOK.— APRIL  13. 


524 


mourists  and  rabble,  which  strongly  cha- 
racterises the  manners  of  the  period. 
Without  further  preface,  a  large  broad- 
side publication,  published  at  the  time, 
is  introduced  to  the  reader's  attention, 
as  an  article  of  great  rarity  and  singular 
curiosity. 

The  year  wherein  this  procession  took 
place,  is  not  ascertainable  from  the  broad- 
side ;  but,  from  the  mode  of  printing 
and  other  appearances,  it  seems  to  have 
been  some  years  before  that  which  is  re- 
presented in  a  large  two-sheet  "  Geome- 
trical View  of  the  Grand  Procession  of 
Scald  Miserable  Masons,  designed  as 
they  were  drawn  up  over  against  Somer- 


set-house, in  the  Strand  on  the  27th  of 
April,  1742.  Invented,  and  engraved, 
by  A.  Benoist." 

It  should  be  further  observed,  that  the 
editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book  is  not  a 
mason ;  but  he  disclaims  any  intention 
to  discredit  an  order  which  appears  to 
him  to  be  founded  on  principles  of  good- 
will and  kind  affection.  The  broadside 
is  simply  introduced  on  account  of  its 
scarcity,  and  to  exemplify  the  rudeness 
of  former  manners.  It  is  headed  by  a 
spirited  engraving  on  wood,  of  which  a 
reduced  copy  is  placed  below,  with  the 
title  that  precedes  the  original  print  sub- 
joined. 


Solemn  anfc  ^tatelg  flrocwBion  fc 

OF  THE  SCALD  MISERABLE  MASONS, 
As  It  was  martiall'd,  on  Thursday,  the  \%th  of  this  Instant,  April. 


The  engraving  is  succeeded  by  a  serio- 
comic Address,  commencing  thus  : — 
THE  REMONSTRANCE  of  the  Right  Wor- 
shipful the  GRAND  MASTER,  &c.  of 
the  SCALD  MISERABLE  MASONS. 
WHEREAS  by  our   Manifesto  some 


time  past,  dated  from  our  Lodge  ir. 
Brick-street,  WE  did,  in  the  most  expli- 
cite  manner,  A-indicate  the  ancient  lights 
and  privileges  of  this  society,  and  by  in- 
contestable arguments  evince  our  supe- 
rior dignity  and  seniority  to  all  othei 


525 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL 


institutions,  whether  Grand-Volgi,  Grego- 
rians,      Hurlothrurabians,     Ubiquarians, 
Hiccubites,   Lumber-Troopers,   or  Free- 
Masons ;  yet,  nevertheless,  a  few  persons 
under  the  last  denomination,  still  arro- 
gate to  themselves  the  'usurped  titles  of 
Most  Ancient  and  Honourable,  in  open 
violations  of  truth  and  justice ;  still  en- 
deavour to  impose  their  false  mysteries 
(for  a  premium)   on  the  credulous   and 
unwary,  under  pretence  of  being  part  of 
our    brotherhood;    and  still   are   deter- 
min'd  with  drums,  trumpets,  gilt  chariots, 
and  other  unconstitutional  finery,  to  cast 
a  reflection   on   the  primitive   simplicity 
and  decent  economy  of  our  ancient  and 
annual  peregrination  :  WE  therefore  think 
proper,  in  justification  of  Ourselves,  pub- 
licly to  disclaim  all  relation  or  alliance 
•whatsoever,  with  the  said  society  of  Free- 
Masons,  as  the  same  must  manifestly  tend 
to   the  sacrifice   of  our  dignity,  the  im- 
peachment of  our  understanding,  and  the 
disgrace  of  our  solemn  mysteries :  AND 
FURTHER,  to  convince  the  public  of  the 
candour  and  openness  of  our  proceedings, 
WE  here  present  them  with  a  key  to  our 
procession ;    and  that   the   rather,   as  it 
consists    of  many  things   emblematical, 
mystical,  hieroglyphical,  comical,  satirical, 
political,  &c. 

AND  WHEREAS  many,  persuaded 
by  the  purity  of  our  constitution,  the  nice 
morality  of  our  brethren,  and  peculiar 
decency  of  our  rites  and  ceremonies, 
have  lately  forsook  the  gross  errors  and 
follies  of  the  Free-Masonry,  are  now  be- 
come true  Scald  Miserables  :  It  cannot 
but  afford  a  most  pleasing  satisfaction  to 
all  who  have  any  regard  to  truth  and 
decency,  to  see  our  procession  increased 
with  such  a  number  of  proselytes ;  and 
behold  those  whose  vanity,  but  the  last 
year,  exalted  them  into  a  borrowed  equi- 
page, now  condescend  to  become  the 
humble  cargo  of  a  sand-cart. 

[Then  follows  the  following  :] 

A  KEY  or  EXPLANATION  of  the  Solemn 
and  Stately  Procession  of  the  SCALD 
MISERABLE  MASONS. 

Two  Tylers,  or  Guarders, 

In  yellow  Cockades  and  Liveries,  being 
the  Colour  ordained  for  the  Sword 
Bearer  of  State.  They,  as  youngest  en- 
ter'd  'Prentices,  are  to  guard  the  Lodge, 
with  a  drawn  Sword,  from  all  Cowens 
and  Evej-droDDers,  that  is  Listeners, 


lest  they  should  discover  the  incompre- 
hensible Mysteries  of  Masonry. 

A  Grand  Chorus  of  Instruments, 
To  wit.  Four  Sackbutts,  or  Cow's 
Horns  ;  six  •  Hottentot  Hautboys  ;  four 
tinkling  Cymbals,  or  Tea  Canisters, 
with  broken  Glass  in  them  ;  four  Shovels 
and  Brushes  ;  two  Double  Bass  Dripping- 
pans  ;  a  Tenor  Frying-pan  ;  a  Salt-box 
in  Delasol ;  and  a  Pair  of  Tubs. 

Ragged  entered  'Prentices, 

Properly  cloathed,  giving  the  above 
Token,  and  the  Word,  which  is  Jachin. 

The  Funeral  of  Hyram, 

Six  stately  unfledg'd  Horses  with  Funeral 
Habilaments  and  Caparisons,  carrying 
Escutcheons  of  the  arms  of.  Hyram  Abiff, 
viz.  a  Master's  lodge,  drawing,  in  a 
limping  halting  posture,  with  Solemn 
Pomp,  a  superb  open  hearse,  nine  Foot 
long,  four  Foot  wide,  and  having  a 
clouded  Canopy,  Inches  and  Feet  innu- 
merable in  perpendicular  Height,  very 
nearly  resembling  a  Brick  Waggon  :  In 
the  midst,  upon  a  Throne  of  Tubs  raised 
for  that  Purpose,  lays  the  Corps  in  a 
Coffin  cut  out  of  one  entire  Ruby ;  but, 
for  Decency's  sake,  is  covered  with  a 
Chimney-sweeper's  Stop-cloth,  at  the 
head  of  a  memorable  Sprig  of  Cassia. 

Around  in  mournful  Order  placed,  the 
loving,  weeping,  drunken  Brethren  sit 
with  their  Aprons,  their  Gloves  they  have 
put  in  their  Pockets;  at  Top  and  at 
Bottom,  on  every  side  and  every  where, 
all  round  about,  this  open  hearse  is  be- 
stuck  with  Escutcheons  and  Streamers, 
some  bearing  the  Arms,  some  his  Crest, 
being  the  Sprig  of  Cassia,  and  some  his 
Motto,  viz.  Macbenah. 

Grand  band  of  Mustek  as  before. 
Two  Trophies 

Of  arms  or  achievements,  properly 
quarter'd  and  emblazon'd,  as  allow'd  by 
the  college  of  arms,  showing  the  family 
descents,  with  some  particular  marks  of 
distinction,  showing  in  what  part  of  the 
administration  that  family  has  excelled. 
That  on  the  right,  the  achievement  of  the 
right  worshipful  Poney,  being  Parte 
Perpale,  Glim,  and  Leather-dresser,  viz. 
the  Utensils  of  a  Link  and  Black-shoe- 
Boy  :  That  on  the  left  the  trophy  of  his 

excellency, Jack,    Grand -master 

elect,  and  Chimney-sweeper. 


527 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  19. 


523 


The  Equipage 

Of  the  Grand-master,  being  neatly  nasty, 
delicately  squaled,  and  magnificently 
ridiculous,  beyond  all  human  bounds  and 
conceivings.  On  the  right  the  Grand- 
master Poney,  with  the  Compasses  for 
his  Jewel,  appendant  to  a  blue  Riband 
round  his  neck  :  On  the  left  his  excel- 
lency   Jack,  with  a  Square  hanging 

to  a  white  Riband,  as  Grand-master 
elect :  The  Honourable  Nic.  Baboon,  Esq. ; 
senior  grand  Warden,  with  his  Jewel, 
being  the  Level,  all  of  solid  gold,  and 
blue  Riband :  Mr.  Balaam  van  Assinman, 
Junior  Warden,  his  Jewel  the  Plumb- 
Rule. 

Attendants  of  Honour. 

The  Grand  Sword  Bearer,  carrying  the 
Sword  of  State.  It  is  worth  observing, 
This  Sword  was  sent  as  a  Present  by 
Ishmael  Abiff  (a  relation  in  direct 
Descent  to  poor  old  Hyram)  King  of  the 
Saracens,  to  his  grace  of  Wattin,  Grand- 
Master  of  the  Holy-Lodge  of  St.  John 
of  Jerusalem  in  Clerkenwell,  who  stands 
upon  our  list  of  Grand-masters  for  the 
very  same  year 

The  Grand  Secretary,  with  hit 
Insignia,  &c. 

Prohationists  and  Candidates  close  the 
whole  Procession. 

Tickets  to  be  had,  for  three  Megs  a 
Carcass  to  scran  their  Pannum-Boxes,  at 
the  Lodge  in  Biick-Street,  near  Hide- 
Park  Corner ;  at  the  Barley-Broth  Wo- 
mens  at  St.  Paul's  Church-Yard,  and  the 
Hospital-Gate  in  Smithfield;  at  Nan 
Duck's  in  Black-Boy-Alley,  Chick-Lane  ; 
&c.  &c.  &c. 

NOTE.  No  Gentlemen's  Coaches,  or 
whole  Garments,  are  admitted  in  our 
Procession,  or  at  the  Feast. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  47  •  22. 


19. 

SPRING. 

This  open  day  may  be  devoted  to  the  con- 
templation of  appearances  and  products 
of  the  season,  presented  to  us  by  minis- 
tering bards  :  the  first  to  be  ushered  in, 
is  an  offering  from  a  hand  whence 
nothing  can  be  proffered  that  will  not  be 
especially  acceptable 


For  the  Every. Day  Book 
THE  BLACKTHORN. 

The  April  air  is  shrewd  and  keen ; 

No  leaf  has  dared  unfold, 
Yet  thy  white  blossom's  radiant  sheen, 

Spring's  banner,  I  behold. 
Though  all  beside  be  dead  and  drear, 
Undauntedly  thy  flowers  appear. 

Thou  com'st  the  herald  of  a  host 

Of  blooms  which  will  not  fail, 
When  summer  from  some  southern  coast 

Shall  call  the  nightingale. 
Yet  early,  fair,  rejoicing  tree, 
Sad  are  the  thoughts  inspired  by  thee. 

All  other  trees  are  wont  to  wear, 
First  leaves,  then  flowers,  and  last, 

Their  burden  of  rich  fruit  to  bear 
When  summer's  pride  is  past : 

But  thou, — so  prompt  thy  flowers  to  show, 

Bear'st  but  the  harsh,  unwelcome  sloe. 

So  oft  young  genius,  at  its  birth, 

In  confidence  untried, 
Spreads  its  bright  blossoms  o'er  the  earth. 

And  revels  in  its  pride  ; 
But  when  we  look  its  fruit  to  see, 
It  stands  a  fair,  but  barren  tree. 

So  oft,  in  stern  and  barbarous  lands, 

The  bard  is  heard  to  sing, 
Ere  the  uncultured  soul  expands, 

In  the  poetic  spring  ; 
Then,  sad  and  bootless  are  his  pains, 
And  linked  with  woe  his  name  remains. 

Therefore,  thou  tree  whose  early  bough 

All  blossomed  meets  the  gale, 
Thou  stirrest  in  my  memory  now 

Full  many  a  tearful  tale  : 
And  early,  fair,  rejoicing  tree, 
Sad  are  the  thoughts  inspired  by  thee. 

W.  HOWITT. 

Passing  the  eye  from  the  hedge-row  to 
the  earth,  it  lights  on  the  "  wee-tipp'd" 
emblem  of  "  modesty"  sung  by  poets  of 
every  clime  wherein  it  blows : — 

The  Daisy. 
There  is  a  flower,  a  little  flower, 

With  silver  crest  and  golden  eye, 
That  welcomes  every  changing  hour, 

And  weathers  every  sky. 

The  prouder  beauties  of  the  field, 
In  gay  but  quick  succession  shine  ; 

Race  after  race  their  honours  yield, 
They  flourish  and  decline 

But  this  small  flower,  to  nature  dear, 
While  moon  and  stars  their  courses  run 

Wreaths  the  whole  circle  of  the  year, 
Companion  of  the  sun. 


529 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  19 


530 


It  smiles  upon  the  lap  of  May, 

To  sultry  August  spreads  its  charms, 

Lights  pale  October  on  his  way, 
And  twines  December's  arms. 

The  purple  heath,  the  golden  broom, 
On  moory  mountains  catch  the  gale, 

O'er  lawns  the  lily  sheds  perfume, 
The  violet  in  the  vale  ; 

But  this  bold  floweret  climbs  the  hill, 
Hides  in  the  forests,  haunts  the  glen, 

Plays  on  the  margin  of  the  rill, 
Peeps  round  the  fox's  den. 

Within  the  garden's  cultured  round, 
It  shares  the  sweet  carnation's  bed ; 

And  blooms  on  consecrated  ground 
In  honour  of  the  dead. 

The  lambkin  crops  its  crimson  gem, 
The  wild  bee  murmurs  on  its  breast, 

The  blue  fly  bends  its  pensile  stem, 
Lights  o'er  the  skylark's  nest. 

'Tis  Flora's  page  : — m  every  place 

In  every  season  fresh  and  fair 
It  opens  with  perennial  grace, 

And  blossoms  every  where. 

On  waste  and  woodland,  rock  and  plain, 
Its  humble  buds  unheeded  rise  ; 

The  rose  has  but  a  summer  reign, 
The  daisy  never  dies. 

Montgomery. 

The  flower  aptly  described  by  Mr. 
Montgomery  as  "  companion  of  the  sun," 
is  not  forgotten  by  a  contemporary  "  child 
of  song,1'  from  whom,  until  now,  no  il- 
lustration has  graced  these  pages:  the 
absence  may  be  apologized  for,  by  open- 
ing one  of  his  views  of  nature  imme- 
diately. 


Day  Break  in  the  Country. 

Awake  !  awake  !  the  flowers  unfold 

And  tremble  bright  in  the  sun, 
And  the  river  shines  a  lake  of  gold, — 

For  the  young  day  has  begun. 
The  air  is  blythe,  the  sky  is  blue, 

And  the  lark,  on  lightsome  wings, 
From  bushes  that  sparkle  rich  with  dew, 

To  heaven  her  matin  sings. 
Then  awake,  awake,  while  music's  note, 

Now  bids  thee  sleep  to  shun, 
Light  zephyrs  of  fragrance  round  thee  float 

For  the  young  day  has  begun. 
I've  wandered  o'er  yon  field  of  light, 

Where  daisies  wildly  spring, 
And  traced  the  spot  where  fays  of  night 

Flew  round  on  elfin  wing  : 
And  I've  watch'd  the  sudden  darting  beam 

Make  gold  the  field  of  grain, 
Until  clouds  obscur'd  the  passing  gleam 

And  all  frown'd  dark  again. 
Then  awake,  awake,  each  warbling  bird, 

Now  hails  the  dawning  sun, 
Labour's  enlivening  song  is  heard, — 

For  the  young  day  has  begun. 
Is  there  to  contemplation  given 

An  hour  like  this  one, 
When  twilight's  starless  mantle's  riven 

By  the  uprising  sun  ? 
When  feather'd  warblers  fleet  awake, 

His  breaking  beams  to  see, 
And  hill  and  grove,  and  bush  and  brake, 

Are  fill'd  with  melody. 
Then  awake,  awake,  all  seem  to  chide 

Thy  sleep,  as  round  they  run, 
The  glories  of  heaven  lie  far  and  wide, — 

For  the  young  day  has  begun. 

R.  Ryan 

Our  elder  poets  are  rife  in  description 
of  the  spring;  but  passing  their  abundant 
stores  to  "  Rare  Ben,"  one  extract  more, 
and  "  the  day  is  done." 


Whence  is  it 


Winter  is  so  quite  forced  hence 


And  lock'd  up  under  ground,  that  ev'ry  sense 

Hath  several  objects ;  trees  have  got  their  heads, 

The  fields  their  coats  ;  that  now  the  shining  meads 

Do  boast  the  paunse,  lily,  and  the  rose  ; 

And  every  flower  doth  laugh  as  zephyr  blows  ? 

The  seas  are  now  more  even  than  the  land ; 

The  rivers  run  as  smoothed  by  his  hand ; 

Only  their  heads  are  crisped  by  his  stroke. 

How  plays  the  yearling,  with  his  brow  scarce  broke, 

Now  in  the  open  grass ;  and  frisking  lambs 

Make  wanton  'saults  about  their  dry  suck'd  dams  ? 

Who,  to  repair  their  bags,  do  rob  the  fields  ? 

How  is't  each  bough  a  several  musick  yields  1 

The  lusty  throstle,  early  nightingale, 

Accord  in  tune,  tho'  vary  in  their  tale; 

The  chirping  swallow,  call'd  forth  by  the  sun, 

And  crested  lark  doth  his  division  run : 

The  yellow  bees  the  air  with  murmur  fill, 

The  finches  carol,  and  the  turtles  bill 


Jonsmi, 


531 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— APKIL  20,21. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  48  •  52. 


'l  20. 


DUCHESS  OF  EXETER'S  WILL. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir,  —  A  notice  of  St.  Katherine's 
church,  near  the  tower,  having  already 
appeared  in  your  first  volume,  induces 
me  to  subjoin,  from  "  Testamenta  Vetusta," 
by  Nicholas  Harris  Nicolas,  Esq.,*  the 
will  of  the  duchess  of  Exeter,  who  was 
buried  at  the  east  end  of  the  church  now 
no  longer  existing. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

I.    E  -  TT. 

"  Ann  Holland,  Dutchess  of  Exeter, 
April  20,  1457.     My  Body  to  be  buried 
in  the  Chapel  of  the  Chancel  of  the  Church 
of  St.  Katharine's,  beside  the  Tower  of 
London,  where  the  Corpse  of  my  Lord  and 
husband   is   buried,  and    I    forbid    my 
executors  to  make  any  great  feast,  or  to 
have  a  solemn  hearse,  or  any  costly  lights, 
or  largess  of  liveries,  according  to  the 
glory  or  vain  pomp  of  the  world,  at  my 
funeral,  but  only  to  the  worship  of  God, 
after  the  discretion  of  Mr.  John  Pynche- 
beke,    Doctor   in  Divinity,  one   of    my 
Executors.    To  the  Master  of  St.  Katha- 
rines, if  he  be  present  at  the  dirige  and 
mass  on  my  burial    day,   vis.  viiirf.  ;  to 
every  brother  of  that  College  being  then 
present,  iiis.  ivrf.  ;  to  every  priest  of  the 
same   College   then   present,    xxd.  ;     to 
every  Clerk  then  present,  xiirf.  ;  to  every 
Chorister,  virf.  ;  to  every  Sister  then  pre- 
sent, xxrf.  ;  to  every  bedeman  of  the  said 
place,  viiirf.  ;    I  will  that  my  executors 
find  an  honest  priest  to  say  mass  and 
pray  for  my  soul,  my  lords  soul,  and  all 
Christian  souls,  in  the  Chapel  where  my 
Body  be  buried,  for  the  space  of  seven 
years  next  after  my  decease  ;  and  that  for 
so  doing  he  receive  every  year  xii  marks, 
and  daily  to  say  Placebo,  Dirige,  and 
Mass,  when  so  disposed."    The  duchess's 
will  was  proved   on  the   15th  of  May, 
1458. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  49  •  10. 


*  Nichols  and  Son,  2  vols.  royal  8vo. 


aprtt  21. 

A  SPRING  DIVERSION 
Of  the  Recorder  of  London. 
Leaving  "  hill   and   valley^  dale   and 
field,"  we  turn  for  «*  a  passing  time"  to 
scenes  where,  according  to  the  authority 
subjoined  by  a  worthy  correspondent,  we 
find  "  disorder — order." 

ANCIENT  PICKPOCKETS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book. 

April  15,  1826. 

Sir, — The  following  notice  of  an  an- 
cient school  for  learning  how  to  pick 
pockets  is,  I  conceive,  worthy  notice  in 
the  Every-Day  Book. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 
Kennington.  T.  A. 

In  the  spring  of  1585,  Fieetwood,  the 
recorder  of  London,  with  some  of  his 
brother  magistrates,  spent  a  day  search- 
ing about  after  sundry  persons  who  were 
receivers  of  felons.  A  considerable  num- 
ber were  found  in  London,  Westminster, 
Southwark,  and  the  suburbs,  with  the 
names  of  forty-five  "  masterless  men  and 
cutpurses,"  whose  practice  was  to  rob 
gentlemen's  chambers  and  artificers'  shops 
in  and  about  London.  They  also  dis- 
covered sfiven  houses  of  entertainment  for 
such  in  London ;  six  in  Westminster,  three 
in  the  suburbs,  and  two  in  Southwark. 
Among  the  rest  they  found  out  one 
Watton,  a  gentleman  born,  and  formerly 
a  merchant  of  respectability  but  fallen 
into  decay.  This  person  kept  an  alehouse 
at  Smart's  quay,  near  Billingsgate ;  but  for 
some  disorderly  conduct  it  was  put  down. 
On  this  he  began  a  new  business,  and 
opened  his  house  for  the  reception  of  all  the 
cutpurses  in  and  about  the  city.  In  this 
house  was  a  room  to  learn  young  boys  to 
cut  purses.  Two  devices  were  hung  up  ; 
one  was  a  pocket,  and  another  was  a 
purse.  The  pocket  had  in  it  certain 
counters,  and  was  hung  round  with 
hawks'  bells,  and  over  them  hung  a  little 
sacring  bell.*  The  purse  had  silver  in 
it ;  and  he  that  could  take  out  a  counter 
without  any  noise,  was  allowed  to  be  a 
public  f oyster  ;f  and  he  that  could  take  a 
piece  of  silver  out  of  the  purse  without 
noise  of  any  of  the  bells,  was  adjudged  a 


*  A  small  bell  used  in  the  ceremony  of  the 
mass,  and  rung  on  the  elevation  of  the  conae- 
crated  hosi. 

•*  A  pickpocket. 


533 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AFRIL  22. 


534 


clever  nypper.*  These  places  gave  great 
encouragemenito  evil  doers  in  these  times, 
but  were  soon  after  suppressed.f 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  48  •  77. 

aprtt  22. 

A  JEW  is  A  THIEF  ! 
"  So  runs  the  proverb;  so  believes  the  world." 
At  least  so  say  a  great  many  who  call 
themselvf  <  Christians,  and  who  are  will- 
ing to  believe  all  evil  of  the  Jews,  who,  in 
compliment  to  their  own  questionable 
goodness,  they  "  religiously  "  hate,  with 
all  the  soul  of  "  irreligion."  The  follow- 
ing account  of  an  individual  of  the  Jewish 
persuasion,  well  known  to  many  observers 
of  London  characters,  may  disturb  their 
position  :  it  is  communicated  by  a  gentle- 
man who  gives  his  name  to  the  editor  with 
the  article. 

THE  JEW  NEAR  JE WIN-STREET. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

They  who  are  in  the  habit  of  observing 
the  remarkable  beings  that  perambulate 
the  streets  of  this  metropolis,  either  for 
profit  or  pleasure,  must  have  observed 
"  J.  Levy,"  not,  to  use  a  common  phrase, 
'  an  every-day  character,"  but  one  who, 
for  singularity  of  personal  appearance, 
oddity  of  dress,  simplicity  of  manner,  and 
constant  industry,  deserves  a  place  in  your 
Every-Day  Book. 

For  the  last  eighty  years  has  Levy 
trudged  the  streets  of  "  London  and  its 
environs," — followed,  latterly,  by  a  dirty 
lame  Jew  boy,  carrying  a  huge  mahogany 
closed-up  box,  containing  watches  manu- 
factured by  makers  of  all  degrees,  from 
Tomkin  to  Levy  of  Liverpool — with 
jewellery  of  the  most  costly  kind,  to 
trinkets  of  Birmingham  manufacture; 
and,  strange  to  say,  though  his  dealings 
have  been  extensive  to  a  degree  beyond 
imagination,  he  has  hitherto  given  univer- 
sal satisfaction. 

A  few  evenings  since,  as  I  was  smoking 
my  accustomed  "  every-day  cigar,"  at  a 
respectable  house  in  Jewin-street,  and 
looking  quietly  at  the  different  sorts  of 
persons  forming  the  company  assembled, 

*  A  pickpurse,  or  cutpurse,  so  called  from 
persons  having  their  purses  hanging  in  front 
from  their  girdle. 

t  f/aiJand. 


a  violent  mumping  upon  the  floor  of  the 
passage  leading  to  the  parlour,  which  was 
continued  at  an  interval  of  every  third 
second,  announced  the  approach  of  some 
one  who  clearly  imagined  himself  of  no 
little  importance,  and  thoroughly  dis- 
turbed the  quaker-like  serenity  of  appear- 
ance which  then  prevailed  in  the  room. 
"  How  is  my  dear  good  lady,  and  all  her 
little  ones?  and  her  respectable  hus- 
band ?"  inquired  the  stranger  on  the  out- 
side, f  Without  waiting  for  a  reply  to  the 
two  questions,  the  door  was  suddenly 
thrown  wide  open,  and  in  came  a  tall  thin 
figure  of  a  man,  with  a  face  plainly  de- 
noting that  it  had  seen  at  least  ninety 
winters,  and  bearing  a  beard  of  a  dirty 
gray  colour,  some  inches  in  length,  and 
divided  in  the  centre,  but  coming  from 
under  and  above  the  ears,  over  which  was 
tied  a  gaudy  red  and  yellow  silk  hand- 
kerchief, and  a  huge  pair  of  heavy  costly- 
looking  silver  spectacles,  which  "  ever  and 
anon"  he  raised  from  his  nose.  He  wore 
a  coat  which  had  once  been  blue,  the 
skirts  whereof  almost  hung  to  the  ground, 
and  were  greatly  in  the  fashion  of  a  Green- 
wich pensioner's ;  a  velvet  waistcoat  with 
a  double  row  of  pearl  buttons,  to  which 
was  appended,  through  one  of  the  button- 
holes, a  blue  spotted  handkerchief,  reach- 
ing down  to  his  knees,  a  pair  of  tight 
pantaloons,  which  evidently  had  been  in- 
tended for  another,  as  they  scarcely  gained 
the  calf  of  his  leg,  and  from  the  fobs 
whereof  were  suspended  two  watch-chains 
with  a  profusion  of  seals;  and,  on  his 
head,  was  a  hat  projecting  almost  to  points 
in  the  centre  and  back,  but  narrow  in  the 
sides.  In  his  right  hand  a  huge  but  well- 
made  stick,  wielded  and  pushed  forward 
upon  the  ground  by  a  powerful  effort, 
had  been  the  noisy  herald  of  his  approach. 
On  entering  the  room,  he  cast  an  in- 
quiring look  upon  his  astonished  and 
quiet  auditors,  and  stood  for  a  moment  to 
see  the  effect  of  his  appearance :  then, 
after  an  awful  pause,  lifting  his  spectacles 
to  his  nose,  and  almost  thrusting  his  old 
but  piercing  eyes  over  the  cases,  with  a 
tiger-like  step  he  advanced  to  the  full  front 
of  a  quiet,  inoffensive,  Jack-Robinson- 
sort-of-a-man  who  was  smoking  his  pipe, 
and,  throwing  his  stick  under  his  left  arm. 
he  took  off  his  huge  hat,  thereby  discover- 
ing a  small  velvet  cap  on  the  top  of  his 
head,  and  holding  out  his  right  hand  he  ex- 
claimed, "  Well,  my  good  friend,  how  are 
you  ?  my  eyes  are  weak,  but  I  can  always, 
yes,  always,  discern  a  good  friend  :  how 


535 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  23. 


33S 


are  you  ?  how  is  your  good  lady  ?  I  hope 
she  is  in  good  health,and  all  the  little  ones." 
The  astonished  "  Christian"  looked  as  if 
he  could  have  swallowed  the  pipe  from 
which  he  was  smoking,  on  being  thus 
addressed  by  the  bearded  descendant  of 
Moses,  and  being  absolutely  deprived  of 
speech,  cast  an  inquiring  look  of  dismay 
around  on  his  neighbours,  who  so  far  from 
commiserating  his  feelings,  actually  ex- 
pressed by  smiling  countenances,  the  plea- 
sure they  took  in  the  rencontre.  This  was 
adding  oil  to  the  fire,when  suddenly  turning 
full  in  the  face  of  the  J  >*w,  who  still  held 
out  his  hand  for  a  *riendly  shrug,  he  ex- 
claimed with  a  voice  of  phrenzy,  "  My 
wife  knows  thee  not !  I  know  thee  not ! 
My  children  know  thee  not !  Leave  me  ! 
go!"  The  Jew's  hand  was  quickly  with- 
drawn, while  his  alarmed  countenance 
expressed  the  terror  of  his  poor  soul. 
The  humiliated  Jew  said  not  a  word,  but 
quietly  took  his  seat  in  the  further  corner 
of  the  room,  and  thence  cast  his  eyes  on 
a  clock  which  was  affixed  to  the  wall, 
as  if  afraid  of  looking  on  a  living  object. 
He  remained  some  minutes  in  this  pitiable 
situation.  At  last,  he  took  from  his 
pocket,  three  or  four  watches,  which  he 
regularly  applied  to  his  ear,  and  after- 
wards wound  up  ;  then  laying  them  upon 
the  table,  he  triumphantly  looked  at  the 
company,  and  —  by  his  eyes  —  boldly 
challenged  them  to  produce  a  wealth, 
equal  to  that  he  exposed  to  their  view. 
Apparently  satisfied,  in  his  own  mind,  of 
his  superiority  as  to  wealth,  over  the  man 
who  had  so  cruelly  denied  all  knowledge 
of  him,  he  called  in  a  kind,  but  a  sup- 
pressed voice  to  the  servant  in  attend- 
ance,— "Well,  my  dear!  bring  me  a  glass 
of  good  gin  and  water,  sweet  with  sugar, 
mind  little  girl,  and  I  will  gratefully 
thank  you ;  it  will  comfort  my  poor  old 
heart."  "  You  shall  have  it,  sir,"  said  the 
admiring  girl,  directing  her  attention  to 
the  exposed  jewellery.  They  were  the 
first  kind  words  heard  in  that  room  by 
poor  Levy,  and  they  seemed  to  draw 
tears  from  his  eyes  ;  for,  from  his  pocket, 
he  brought  forth  as  many  handkerchiefs, 
of  the  most  opposite  and  glowing  colours, 
as  the  grave  digger  in  Hamlet  casts  off 
waistcoats,  all  of  which  he  successively 
applied  to  his  eyes.  The  girl  quickly  re- 
turned with  the  required  gin  and  v/ater, 
and,  after  repeated  stirring  and  tasting, 
casting  an  eager  look  at  her,  he,  with  the 
most  marked  humility,  begged  "  one 
little,  little  bit  more  sugar,  and  it  would 


be  beautiful*"  which  was  of  course 
granted,  and  the  girl  at  parting  was 
more  liberally  rewarded  by  the  poor 
despised  Jew,  than  by  any  other  perso, 
in  the  room.  Commiserating  the  feelings  of 
a  seemingly  poor,  and  ancient  man,  whose 
religion  and  singularity  of  manner  were 
his  only  crime,  I  spoke  to  him,  and  was 
highly  delighted  to  find  him  infinitely 
superior  to  any  about  him ;  that  is  to  say, 
so  far  as  I  could  judge,  for  the  greater 
number  plainly  showed,  that  they  con- 
sidered silence  a  sign  of  wisdom ;  pro- 
bably it  was  so — with  them. 

Upon  Levy  leaving  the  room,  I  found 
he  had  lived  in  one  house,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, for  upwards  of  sixty  years,  and 
borne  an  irreproachable  character;  that 
no  man  has  ever  called  on  him  a  second 
time  for  money  due;  that  from  good- 
ness of  heart,  he  has  often  gave  away 
the  fruits  of  his  industry,  and  deprived 
himself  of  personal  luxuries,  to  add  to  the 
comfbrts  of  others,  without  considering 
whether  they  were  Jew  or  Gentile ;  that 
in  his  own  house,  he  is  liberal  of  his 
wine,  and  of  attention  to  his  guests ;  and 
that  he  does  not  deny,  though  he  is  fai 
from  publishing,  that  he  has  acquired 
wealth.  And,  yet,  this  honourable  and 
venerable  man,  after  having  reached  his 
ninety-third  year,  because  of  his  eccentric 
costume  and  appearance,  was  deprived  of 
the  comforts  of  passing  a  happy  hour, 
after  the  fatigues  of  the  day.  This  I  trust 
for  the  credit  of  Christianity,  and  for  his 
sake,  is  not  a  circumstance  of  "  every- 
day" 

E.  W.  W. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  48  •  67. 

apt-a  23. 

ST.  GEORGE'S  DAY. 
1826.  Kings  birth-day  kept. 
For  an  account  of  St.  George  the  patron 
saint  of  England,  and  how  he  fought  and 
conquered  a  cruel  dragon,  and  thereby 
saved  the  princess  of  Sylene  from  being 
devoured,  see  vol.  i.  p.  496—502. 

On  St.  George's  day,  people  of  fashion 
were  accustomed,  even  to  the  beginning 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  to  wear  coats 
of  cloth  of  blue,  being  the  national  colour 
in  honour  of  the  national  saint.  This, 
however,  seems  to  be  a  reasonable  con- 


537 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  23. 


538 


jecture  for  the  custom.  Mr.  Archdeacon 
Nares,  and  other  antiquaries,  are  at  a  loss 
for  the  real  origin  of  the  usage,  which  is 
ancient.  In  old  times  there  were  splendid 
pageants  on  this  festival. 

At  Leicester,  the  "riding  of  the  George" 
was  one  of  the  principal  solemnities  of 
the  town.  The  inhabitants  were  bound  to 
attend  the  mayor,  or  to  "  ride  against  the 
king,"  as  it  is  expressed,  or  for  "  riding 
the  George,"  or  for  any  other  thing  to  the 
pleasure  of  the  mayor  and  worship  of  the 
town.  St.  George's  horse,  harnessed,  used 
to  stand  at  the  end  of  St.  George's  chapel, 
in  St.  Martin's  church,  Leicester.* 

At  Dublin,  there  are  orders  in  the  chain 
book  of  the  city,  for  the  maintenance  of 
ihe  pageant  of  St.  George  to  the  following 
effect  :-^ 

1 .  The   mayor  of  the    preceding  year 
was  to  provide  the  emperor  and  empress 
w:th  their  horses    and  followers  for  the 
pageant ;  that  is  to  say,  the  emperor  with 
two  doctors,  and  the  empress  with  two 
knights  and  two  maidens,  richly  apparel- 
led, to  bear  up  the  train  of  her  gown. 

2.  The  mayor  for  the  time  being  was 
to  find  St.  George  a  horse,  and  the  war- 
dens to  pay  3*.  4d.  for  his  wages  that  day  ; 
and  the  bailiffs  for  the  time  being  were  to 
find  four  horses  with  men  mounted  on 
them  well  apparelled/  to  bear  the  pole 
axe,  the  standard,  and  the  several  swords 
of  the  emperor  and  St.  George. 

3.  The  elder  master  of  the  guild  was  to 
find    a  maiden  well  attired  to  lead  the 
dragon,  and  the  clerk  of  the  market  was  to 
find  a  golden  line  for  the  dragon. 

4.  The  elder  warden  was  to  find  four 
trumpets  for  St.  George,  but  St.  George 
himself  was  to  pay  their  wages. 

5.  The  younger  warden  was  obliged  to 
find  the  king  of  Dele,  (Sylene,)  and  the 
queen     of  Dele,   (Sylene,)   as   also    two 
knights,   to    lead    the    queen,   and    two 
maidens  in  black  apparel  to  bear  the  train 
of  her  gown.     He  was  also  to  cause  St. 
George's  chapel   to  be   well  hung  with 
black,  and  completely  apparelled  to  every 
purpose,  and  to  provide  it  with  cushions, 
rushes,  and  other  requisites,  for  the  festivi- 
ties of  the  day.f 

These  provisions  and  preparations  refer 
to  the  narrative  of  the  adventures  of  St. 
George  already  given  in  vol.  i.  p.  497. 


*  Fosbroke's  Diet,  of  Antiquities. 
+  Ibid. 


St.  George's  day  at  the  court  of  St. 
James's  is  a  grand  day,  and,  therefore,  a, 
collar  day,  and  observed  accordingly  by 
the  knights  of  the  different  orders. 

Collar  of  S.  S. 

This  is  an  opportunity  for  mentioning 
the  origin  of  the  collar  worn  by  th« 
judges. 

This  collar  is  derived  from  S*«.  Slm- 
plicius  and  Faustinus,  two  Roman  sen- 
ators, who  suffered  martyrdom  under 
Dioclesian.  The  religious  society  or  con- 
fraternity of  St.  Simplicius  wore  silver 
collars  of  double  S.  S.;  between  which 
the  collar  contained  twelve  small  pieces 
of  silver,  in  which  were  engraven  the 
twelve  articles  of  the  creed,  together  with 
a  single  trefoil.  The  image  of  St.  Sim- 
plicius hung  at  the  collar,  and  from  it 
seven  plates,  representing  the  seven  gifts 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  This  chain  was  worn 
because  these  two  brethren  were  martyred 
by  a  stone  with  a  chain  i.bout  their  necks, 
and  thus  thrown  into  the  Tiber.  Sir 
John  Fenn  says,  that  collars  were  in  the 
fifteenth  century  ensigns  of  rank,  of  which 
the  fashions  ascertained  the  degrees. 
They  were  usually  formed  of  S.  S.  having 
in  the  front  centre  a  rose,  or  other  device, 
and  were  made  of  gold  or  silver,  accord- 
ing to  the  bearer.  He  says,  that  knights 
only  wore  a  collar  of  S.  S ;  but  this 
is  a  mistake. 

At  the  marriage  of  prince  Arthur,  son 
of  Henry  VII.,  in  1507,  "  Sir  Nicholas 
Vaux  ware  a  collar  of  Esses,  which 
weyed,  as  the  goldsmiths  that  made  it 
reported,  800  pound  of  nobles."  The 
collar  worn  by  the  judges  is  still  a  collar 
of  S.  S.  divested  of  certain  appendages.* 

The  mint  mark  in  1630,  under  Charles 
I.,  was  St.  George ;  in  the  reign  of  James 
I.  it  was  a  cross  of  St.  George,  surmount- 
ing a  St.  Andrew's  cross.f 

"  GOD  SAVE  THE  KING." 
The  origin  of  this  air  has  exercised  the 
researches  of  numberless  individuals ; 
whether  it  has  been  thoroughly  ascertained 
seems  doubtful ;  but  it  may  be  suitable 
to  introduce  a  translation  of  the  word* 
into  the  Welsh  language,  by  a  celebrated 
antiquary  of  the  principality,  Dr.  Owen 
Pugh.  It  is  printed,  verbatim,  from  a 
private  copy  which  the  editor  was  favoured 


*  Fosbroke's  Diet,  of  Antiquities. 


Ibid. 


539 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  23. 


540 


with  by  Dr.  Pugh  in  the  course  of  the  last 
summer. 

CORONI  SIOR  IV. 

Duw  cadwa  erom  ni, 
Mewn  fyniant,  clod,  a  bri, 

Ein  Bretrin  Sioa  j 

Hir  yna  o  lesaad 
Teyrnasa  ar  ei  wlad, 
Ein  gobaith  da,  ein  tad, 

Ein  haelav  bor. 

Ei  syn  elynion  o 

Bob  man  gan  warth  ar  fo 

Aent  hwy  i  lawr ; 

DilSa  di  mbr  iawn 
Amcanion  brad  sy  lawn, 
Ac  yna  deua  dawn 

Dainoni  mawr. 

M&l  haul  o  dirion  des 
Trbs  BRYDAIN  taena  les 

Hir  oes  ein  ior  ; 

Ein  breintiau,  er  ein  raael, 
Areilied  ev  yn  hael, 
A  delo  ini  gael 

Oes  hir  i  SIOR  ! 
IDRISON. 
Myhevin,  5,  1820. 

St.  George's  day  was  selected  at  a  very 
early  period  for  the  establishment  of  horse- 
races. An  obliging  correspondent  com- 
municates some  interesting  particulars  of 
their  institution. 

EARLY  HORSE  RACING. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Kennington,  April  16,  1826. 

Sir, — The  following  notice  of  an  ancient 
race,  formerly  held  near  Chester,  is,  I 
conceive,  worthy  preservation  in  your 
interesting  work,  which,  I  hope,  in  course 
of  time,  will  treasure  up  records  of  every 
custom,  game,  or  ancient  observance, 
formerly  so  common  in  (l  merry  England." 

Mr.  Lysons,  in  his  "Magna  Brittania," 
says,  there  are  some  old  articles  of  a  race 
for  two  bells  among  the  corporation 
records,  the  earliest  date  of  which  was 
in  1512 

CHESTER  RACES. 

In  1609  or  10,  Mr.  William  Lester, 
mercer,  being  mayor  of  Chester,  and  Mr. 
Robert  Ambrye  or  Amory,  ironmonger, 
sheriff  of  the  city,  at  his,  the  last  men- 
tioned person's,  own  cost,  did  cause  three 
silver  bells  to  be  made  of  good  value, 
which  bells  he  appointed  to  be  run  for 
with  horses  "  upon  St.  George's  Day, 


upon  the  Roode  Dee  from  the  new  tower 
to  the  netes,  there  torning  to  run  up  to 
the  Watergate,  that  horse  which  come  first 
there  to  have  the  beste  bell ;  the  second 
to  have  the  seconde  bell  for  that  year 
putting  in  money,  and  for  to — and  shuer- 
ties  to  deliver  in  the  bells  that  day  twelve- 
month." The  other  bell  was  run  for  the 
same  day  upon  the  like  conditions.  This 
gave  rise  to  the  adage  of  "  bearing  the 
bell."  The  bells  and  a  bowl  seem  to  have 
been  brought  down  to  the  course  with 
great  pomp,  as  the  following  copy  shows, 
carefully  transcribed  from  the  original 
among  the  Harleian  MSS.  in  the  British 
Museum.* 

"  The    maner  of  the  showe,  that  is, 
if  God  spare  life   and  healthe,  shall  be 
scene   by   all   the  behoulders    upon    Sct 
George's   day   next,   being    the    23d   of 
Aprill  1610,  and  the  same  with  more  ad- 
dytion,  to  continew,  being  for  the  kyng's 
crowne  and  dignity e,  and  the  homage  to 
the  kynge   and  prynce,  with  that  noble 
victor   St.  George,   to  be  continued   for 
ever,  God  save  the  Kynge. 
It.  ij  men  in  greene  evies,f  set  with  worke 
upon  their  other  habet,  with  black  heare 
and  black  beards,  very  awgly  to  be- 
hould,  and  garlands  upon  their  heads, 
with  great  clubbs  in  their  hands,  with 
firrj  works  to  scatter  abroad,  to  man- 
tain  way  for  the  rest  of  the  showe. 
It.  one  on  horseback  with   the  buckler 
and  head-peece  of  St.  George,  and  iij 
men  to  guide  him,  with  a  drum  before 
him,  for  the  hon.  of  England. 
It.  one  on  horseback  e  called  Fame,  with 
a  trumpet  in  his  hand,  and  iij  to  guide 
him,  and  he  to  make  an  oration  with  his 
habit,  in  pompe. 

It.  one  called  Mercury,  to  descend  from 
above  in  a  cloude,  his  winges  and  all 
other  matters  in  pompe,  and  heavenly 
musicke  with  him,  and  after  his  oration 
spoken,  to  ryde  on  horsebacke  with  the 
musicke  before  him. 
It.  j  called  Chester,  with  an  oration  and 

drums  before  him,  his  habit  in  pompe. 
It.  j  on  horseback,  with  the  kynge's  armes 

upon  a  shield  in  pompe. 
It.  j  on  horseback,  concerninge  the  kyng's 
crowne  and  dignity,  with  an  oration  in 
pompe. 

It.  j  on  horseback  with  a  bell  dedicated 
to  the  kinge,  being  double  gilt,  with 
the  kyng's  armes  upon,  carried  upon  a 
septer  in  pompe,  and  before  him  a  noise 
of  trumpets  in  pompe. 

*  Hart.  MSS.  2150.  f.  356.      t  tvy.    *  Fire. 


541 


THE  bVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  23. 


54? 


It.  one  on  horseback,  with  the  Prince's 
armesupon  a  shield  in  pompe. 

It.  one  on  horseback,  with  an  oration  from 
the  prynce  in  pompe. 

It.  j  on  horseback,  with  the  bell  dedicat- 
ed to  the  princes.  Armes  upon  it,  in 
pompe,  and  to  be  carried  on  a  septer, 
and  before  the  bell,  a  wayte  of  trum- 
petts. 

It.  j  on  horseback,  with  a  cup  for  Saint 
George,  caried  upon  a  septer  in  pompe. 

It.  j  on  horseback,  with  an  oracyon  for 
St.  George,  in  pompe. 

It.  St.  George  himselfe  on  horseback,  in 
complete  armour,  with  his  flag  and 
buckler  in  pompe,  and  before  him  a 
noyse  of  drums. 

It.  one  on  horseback  called  Peace,  with 
an  oration  in  pompe. 

It.  one  on  horseback  called  Plentye,  with 
an  oration  in  pompe. 

It.  one  on  horseback  called  Envy,  with  an 
oration,  whom  Love  will  comfort,  in 
pompe. 

It.  one  on  horseback  called  Love,  with 
an  oration,  to  maintain  all  in  pompe, 

It.  The  maior  and  his  brethren,  at  the 
Pentis  of  this  Cittye,  with  their  best 
apparell,  and  in  skarlet,  and  all  the 
orations  to  be  made  before  him,  and 
scene  at  the  high  crosse,  as  they  passe 
to  the  roodeye,  whereby  grent  shall  be 
runne  for  by  their  horses,  for  the  ij 
bells  on  a  double  stafFe,  and  the  cuppe 
to  be  runne  for  by  the  rynge  in  the 
same  place  by  gennt,  and  with  a  great 
mater  of  shewe  by  armes,  and  thatt,  and 
with  more  than  I  can  recyte,  with  a 
banket  after  in  the  Pentis  to  make  wel- 
come the  gennt :  and  when  all  is  done, 
then  judge  what  you  have  scene,  and 
soe  speake  on  your  mynd,  as  you  fynde. 
The  actor  for  the  p'sent. 

ROB  ART  AMORY. 

Amor  is  love  and  Amory  is  his  name 

that  did  begin  this  pomp  and  princelye  game, 

the  charge  is  great  to  him  that  all  begun, 

let  him  be  satisfyed  now  all  is  done. 

Notwithstanding  Mr.  Amory  exerted 
himself  and  entertained  the  citizens  so 
well  in  1610,  it  was  ordered  in  1612, 
'*'  that  the  sports  and  recreations  used  on 
St.  George's  day,  should  in  future  be 
done  by  the  direction  of  the  mayor  and 
citizens,  and  not  of  any  private  person  .*" 
No  authority  has  occurred  in  my  re- 
searches on  this  subject,  for  tracing  the 
gradual  alterations  by  which  the  bell  ana 
the  bowl  of  these  ancient  races,  have  been 

*  Corporation  Records. 


converted  to  the  ordinary  prizes  at  similar 
meetings.  They  are  now  held  the  first 
entire  week  in  May,  which  comes  as  near 
the  original  time  (old  St.  George's  day) 
as  possible.  They  generally  attract  a 
vast  assemblage  of  the  fashionable  world, 
and  the  city  subscribes  liberally  to  keep 
up  the  respectability  of  the  races. 
I  am,  Sir,  &c. 


OLD  GUILDFORD  CHURCH. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Mr.  Editor,  —  In  «<  A  Tour  through  the 
whole  Island  of  Great  Britain,"  4  vols. 
12mo.,  there  is  the  following  notice  of  an 
accident  on  St.  George's  day,  which  you 
will  oblige  a  constant  reader  by  inserting 
in  the  Every-Day  Book.  J.  H. 

On  Wednesday  the  23d  of  April,  1740, 
the  upper  church  at  Guildford,  in  Surrey, 
fell  down.  It  was  an  ancient  building, 
and  not  long  before,  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  were  expended  upon  it  in 
repairs.  There  was  preaching  in  it  on 
the  Sunday  before,  and  workmen  were 
employed  in  taking  down  the  bells,  who, 
providentially,  had  quitted  the  spot  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  accident 
happened,  so  that  not  one  person  received 
any  hurt,  though  numbers  were  spectators. 
Three  bells  had  been  taken  down,  and 
the  other  three  fell  with  the  steeple,  which 
broke  the  body  of  the  church  to  pieces, 
though  the  steeple  received  but  littl« 
damage  by  the  fall 

SPRING  IN  THE  CITY, 

and 

JEMMY  WHITTLE. 

At  Laurie  and  Whittle's  print-shop 
'•  nearly  opposite  St.  Dunstan's  church, 
Fleet-street,"  or  rather  at  Jemmy  Whit- 
tle's, for  he  was  the  manager  of  the 
concern  —  I  cannot  help  calling  him 
"  Jemmy,"  for  I  knew  him  afterwards, 
in  a  passing  way,  when  every  body  called 
him  Jemmy  ;  and  after  his  recollec- 
tion failed  ,  and  he  dared  no  longer  to 
flash  his  merriment  at  the  "  Cock,"  at 
Temple-bar,  and  the  "  Black  Jack,"  in 
Portugal-street,  but  stood,  like  a  sign  of 
himself,  at  his  own  door,  unable  to  re- 
member the  names  of  his  old  friends, 
they  called  him  "  poor  Jemmy  !"  —  I  say. 
I  remember  at  Jemmy  Whittle's  there 
was  always  a  change  of  prints  in  spring- 
time. Jemmy  liked,  as  he  said,  to  "  give 
the  public  something  alive,  fre*h  and 
clever,  classical  and  correct  t"  One 


043 


THE  EVEllY-DAY  BOOK.-APRIL  23. 


544 


print,  however,  was  never  changed  ;  this 
was  "  St.  Dunstan  and  the  Devil."  To 
any  who  inquired  why  he  always  had 
**  that  old  thing"  in  the  window,  and 
thought  it  would  be  better  out,  Jemmy 
answered,  "  No,  no,  my  boy!  that's  my 
sign — no  change — church  and  state,  you 
know  ! — no  politics,  you  know  ! — I  hate 
politics!  there's  the  church,  you  know, 
[pointing  to  St.  Dunstan's,]  and  here  am 
I,  my  boy  ! — it's  my  sign,  you  know  ! — 


no  change,  my  boy !"  Alas,  how  changed  I 
I  desired  to  give  a  copy  of  the  print  on 
St.  Dunstan's  day  in  the  first  volume  of 
the  Every-Day  Book,  and  it  could  not  be 
found  at  "  the  old  shop,"  nor  at  any 
printsellers  I  resorted  to.  Another  print 
of  Jemmy  Whittle's  was  a  favourite  with 
me,  as  well  as  himself;  for,  through  every 
mutation  of  "  dressing  out "  his  window 
it  maintained  its  place  with  St.  Dunstan, 
It  was  a  mezzotinto,  called 


Bop. 

In  summer's  heat,  and  winter's  cold.' 


During  all  seasons  this  print  was  ex- 
hibited, "  fresh,  and  fresh."  At  that  time 
prints  from  the  Flemish  and  Dutch  mas- 
ters, and  humorous  matters  of  all  kinds, 
were  public  favourites.  From  my  early 
liking  to  the  "  Laughing  Boy,"  and  be- 
cause, with  the  merit  of  good  design,  it  is 


a  superior  specimen  of  popular  taste  at  th« 
time  I  speak  of,  a  copy  is  at  the  service 
of  that  reader,  who  may  perhaps  dank  with 
"  poor  Jemrny  Whittle,"  that  an  agreeable 
subject  is  always  in  season,  and  that  as  a 
worse  might  have  been  presented,  this 
speaking  relatively,  is  really  very  pretty. 


S45 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. -APRIL  23. 


54* 


I  am  now  speaking  of  five  and  thirty 
years  ago,  when  shop  windows,  especially 
printsellers',  were  set  out  according  to  the 
season.  I  remember  that  in  spring-time 
"Jemmy  Whittle,"  and  "  Carrington 
Bowles,  in  St.  Paul's  Church-yard,"  used 
to  decorate  their  panes  with  twelve  prints 
of  flowers  of  "  the  months,"  engraved 
after  Baptiste,  and  "  coloured  after 
nature," — a  show  almost,  at  that  time, 
as  gorgeous  as  "  Solomon's  Temple,  in 
all  its  glory,  all  over  nothing  but  gold 
and  jewels,"  which  a  man  exhibited  to 
my  wondering  eyes  for  a  halfpenny. 

Spring  arrives  in  London — and  even 
east  of  Temple-bar — as  early  as  in  the 
country.  For — though  there  are  neither 
hawthorns  to  blossom,  nor  daisies  to 
blow — there  is  scarcely  a  house  "  in 
the  city,"  without  a  few  flower  pots 
inside  or  outside  ;  and  when  "  the  seeds 
come  up,"  the  Londoner  knows  that  the 
spring  is  "  come  'to  town."  The  alma- 
nac, also,  tells  him,  that  the  sun 
rises  earlier  every  day,  and  he  makes  his 
apprentices  rise  earlier;  and  the  shop 
begins  to  be  watered  and  swept  before 
breakfast;  and  perchance,  as  the  good 
man  stands  at  his  door  to  look  up,  and 
"  wonder  what  sort  of  a  day  it  will  be," 
he  sees  a  basket  with  primroses  or  cow  ' 
slips,  and  from  thence  he  hazards  to 
assert,  at  "the  house  he  uses"  in  the 
evening-,  that  the  spring  is  very  forward ; 
which  is  confirmed,  to  his  credit,  by  some 
neighbour,  who  usually  sleeps  at  Bow 
or  Brompton,  or  PentonvilleorKenning- 
ton,  or  some  other  adjacent  part  of  "  the 
country." 

To  the  east  of  Temple-bar,  the  flower- 
girl  is  "the  herald  of  spring."  She 
cries  "  cowslips  1  sweet  cowslips  !"  till 
she  screams  "  bow-pots !  sweet,  and 
pretty  bow-pots  !"  which  is  the  sure  and 
certain  token  of  full  spring  in  London. 
When  /  was  a  child,  I  got  "  a  bow-pot" 
of  as  many  wall -flowers  and  harebells  as 
I  could  then  hold  in  my  hand,  with  a 
sprig  of  sweet  briar  at  the  back  of  the 
bunch,  for  a  halfpenny — such  a  handful ; 
but,  now,  "  they  can't  make  a  ha'penny 
bow-pot  —  there's  nothing  under  a 
penny;"  and  the  pennv  bow-pot  is  not 
half  so  big  as  the  ha'penny  one,  and 
somehow  or  other  the  flowers  don't 

••smell,  to  me,  as  they  used  to  do. 

It  will  no*  do  however  to  run  on  thus, 
for  something  remains  to  be  said  concern- 
ing the  patron  of  the  day ;  and,  to  be  plain 
with  the  reader,  the  recollections  of  for- 
VOL.  IT.— 70. 


mer  times  are  not  always  the  most  oheet- 
ing  to  the  writer. 

ST.  GEORGE. 

There  are  some  circumstances  in  the 
history  of  Russia  which  abate  our  preten- 
sions to  our  celebrated  saint.  lu  that 
country  he  is  much  revered.  His  figure 
occurs  in  all  the  churches,  represented  as 
usual,  riding  on  a  horse,  and  piercing  a 
dragon  with  his  lance.  This  device  also 
forms  part  of  the  arms  of  the  Russian 
sovereign,  and  is  on  several  of  the 
coins.  Certain  English  historians  have 
conjectured,  that  Ivan  Vassilievitch 
II.,  being  presented  with  the  garter 
by  queen  Elizabeth,  assumed  the  George 
and  the  dragon  for  his  arms,  and  ordered 
it  to  be  stamped  upon  the  current  money. 
But  it  does  not  appear  that  the  tzar  was 
created  a  knight  of  the  garter;  and  it  is 
certain  that  the  sovereigns  of  Moscow 
bore  this  device  before  they  had  the  least 
connection  with  England.  In  Hackluyt, 
vol.  i.  p.  255,  Chanceler,  the  first  Eng- 
lishman who  discovered  Russia,  speaks 
of  a  despatch  sent  in  1554,  from  Ivan 
Vassilievitch  to  queen  Mary  : — «  This 
letter  was  written  in  the  Moscovian 
tongue,  in  letter  much  like  to  the  Greeke 
letters,  very  faire  written  in  paper,  with 
a  broade  scale  hanging  at  the  same, 
sealed  in  paper  upon  waxe.  This  seale 
was  much  like  the  broad  seale  of  Eng- 
land, having  on  the  one  side  the  image  of 
a  man  on  horseback  in  complete  harnesse 
fighting  with  a  dragon."" 

Russian  coins  of  a  very  early  date  re- 
present the  figure  of  a  horseman  spearing 
a  dragon;  one  particularly,  of  Michae" 
Androvitz  appears  to  have  been  struck  in 
1305,  forty  years  before  the  institution  of 
the  order  of  the  garter  in  England.  From 
this  period,  numerous  Russian  coins  are 
successively  distinguished  by  the  same 
emblem.  Various  notions  have  been  put 
forth  concerning  the  origin  of  the  figure ; 
but  it  seems  probable  that  the  Russians 
received  -the  image  of  St.  George  and  the 
dragon  either  from  the  Greeks  or  from  the 
Tartars,  by  both  of  whom  he  was  much 
revered ;  by  'the  former  as  a  Christian 
saint  and  martyr,  and  by  the  latter  as  a 
prophet  or  a  deity.  We  know  from  his- 
tory, that  in  the  fourth  or  fifth  century  he 
was  much  worshipped  amongst  the  Greeks; 
and  that  afterwards  the  crusaders,  dur- 
ing their  first  expedition  into  the  Holy 
Land,  found  many  temples  erected  to  his 
honour.  The  Russians,  therefore,  who 


547 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK  —APRIL  24. 


548 


were  converted  to  Christianity  by  the 
Greeks,  certainly  must  have  received  at 
the  same  time  a  large  catalogue  of  saints, 
which  made  an  essential  part  of  the  Greek 
worship,  and  there  can  be  no  reason  to 
imagine  that  St.  George  was  omitted. 

In  a  villa  of  prince  Dolgorucki,  near 
Moscow,  is  an  old  basso-relievo  of  St. 
George  and  the  dragon,  found  in  a 
ruined  church  at  Intermen,  in  the  Cri- 
mea; it  had  a  Greek  Inscription  almost 
erased,  but  the  words  AIOO  TEOProO,  or 
St.  George,  and  the  date  1330,  were  still 
legible.  As  it  appears  from  this  basso- 
relievo  that  he  was  worshipped  in  the 
Crimea  so  near  the  court  of  Russia  when 
the  great  dukes  resided  at  Kipf,  his  intro- 
duction into  that  country  is  easily  ac- 
counted for. 

Still,  it  is  very  likely  that  the  Russians 
received  from  the  Tartars  the  image  of  a 
horseman  spearing  a  serpent,  as  repre- 
sented upon  their  most  ancient  coins,  and 
which  formed  a  part  of  the  great  duke's 
arms,  towards  the  beginning  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  The  Russians  had 
lone  before  they  were  conquered  by  the 
Tartars ;  and  soon  after  they  were  brought 
under  the  Tartar  yoke,  they  struck  mo- 
ney. The  first  Russian  coins  bear  a  Tar- 
tar inscription,  afterwards,  with  Tartar 
letters  on  one  side,  and  Russian  charac- 
ters on  the  other ;  and  there  is  still  pre- 
served in  the  cabinet  of  St.  Petersburgh, 
a  piece  of  money,  exhibiting  a  horseman 
piercing  a  dragon,  with  the  name  of  the 
great  duke  in  Russian,  and  on  the  reverse 
a  Tartar  inscription. 

The  story  of  a  saint  or  a  deity  spearing 
a  dragon,  was  known  all  over  the  east ; 
among  the  Mahometans,  a  person  called 
Gergis  or  George,  under  a  similar  figure, 
was  much  revered  as  a  prophet;  and 
similar  emblems  have  been  discovered 
among  many  barbarous  nations  of  the 
east.  Whether  these  nations  took  it  from 
the  Greeks,  or  the  latter  from  them,  can- 
not be  ascertained ;  for  of  the  real  exist- 
ence of  such  a  person  as  St.  George,  no 
positive  proofs  have  ever  been  advanced. 

But  whether  the  Russians  derived  St. 
George  from  the  Greeks  or  the  Tartars,  it 
is  certain  that  his  figure  was  adopted  as 
the  arms  of  the  grand  dukes,  and  that  the 
emblem  of  the  saint  and  the  dragon,  has 
been  uniformly  represented  on  the  reverse 
of  the  Russian  coins. 

With  respect  to  the  arms,  Herberstein, 
in  Ins  account  of  his  embassy  to  Moscow 
in  1518,  under  Vassih  Ivanovitch,  has 


given  a  wooden  print  of  that  prince, 
at  the  bottom  of  which  are  engraved  his 
arms,  representing  thus — 


a  naked  man  on  horseback,  piercing  a 
serpent  with  his  lance.  The  equestrian 
figure  in  this  device  has  a  Tartar-like  ap- 
pearance, and  is  so  coarse  and  rude,  that 
it  seems  to  have  been  derived  from  a 
people  in  a  far  more  uncivilized  state  of 
society  than  the  Greeks  :  add  to  this,  that 
the  Greeks  always  represented  St.  George 
clad  in  armour. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  48  •  27. 


24. 

ST.  MARK'S  EVE. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

JOE  BROWN  —  THE  CHURCH  WATCH. 
Sir,  —  As  you  solicit  communications  of 
local  usages  or  customs,  I  send  you  some 
account  of  the  "Watching  the  church" 
on  St.  Mark's  E'en,  in  Yorkshire.  Accord- 
ing to  the  superstitions  of  some  other 
counties,  the  eve  of  St.  John's  day  is  the 
privileged  night  for  unquiet  spirits  to 
revisit  the  upper  world,  and  flit  over 
the  scenes  of  their  mortal  existence.  But, 
in  Yorkshire,  it  was  believed  by  the  su- 
perstious  and  the  peasantry  within  these 
twenty  years,  and  is  so  still  perhaps,  that 
if  a  person  have  the  hardihood  to  place 
himself  within  the  porch  of  the  church, 
or  in  a  position  which  commands  the 
church  door,  on  the  ghostly  e'en  of  St. 
Mark,  (it  must  be  St.  Mark,  O.  S.,)  he 
will  see  the  souls  of  those  whose  bodies 
are  to  be  buried  at  that  church  the  fol- 
lowing year,  approach  the  church  in  the 
dead  waste  and  middle  of  the  night.  The 
doors  'are  flung  open  by  some  invisible 
hand  just  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  the  spirits 


549 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK. —APRIL  24. 


530 


enter  in  the  rotation  their  mortal  bodies 
are  to  die  in.  This  hour  is  an  epitome  of 
the  year;  those  who  are  to  die  soon,  enter 
the  first — and  those  who  will  almost  sur- 
vive the  year,  do  not  approach  until  nearly 
one  o'clock,  at  which  time  the  doors  are 
carefully  closed  and  secured  as  they  were 
in  the  day.  Another  remarkable  feature 
in  the  shadowy  pageant  is  this  ;  those  that 
come  to  an  untimely  end,  are  represented 
by  their  ghostly  proxies,  in  the  very  ar- 
ticle of  dissolution.  If  a  person  is  to  be 
hanged,  or  to  hang  himself,  as  Burns  says 
in  his  "  Tarn  O'Shanter," 

"  Wi'  his  last  gasp  his  gab  will  gape." 

If  the  person  is  to  be  drowned,  his 
representative  wiU  come  as  if  struggling 
and  splashing  in  water,  and  so  on  in  other 
cases  of  premature  death.  I  must  like- 
wise mention,  that  the  "  church-watcher" 
pretends  he  is  fixed  in  a  state  of  impo- 
tence to  his  seat,  during  the  ghostly  hour, 
and  only  receives  the  use  of  his  powers  of 
locomotion  when  the  clock  strikes  one. 
Another  peculiarity  attends  this  nocturnal 
scene :  the  souls  of  those  who  are  to  be 
seriously  indisposed,  likewise  join  the 
procession;  they  peep  into  the  church, 
face  about,  and  return  to  their  wonted 
residences  in  their  slumbering  mortal 
habitations.  But  the  souls  of  the  con- 
demned enter  the  church,  and  are  not 
observed  to  return. 

When  a  boy  at  home,  I  recollect  a  man 
who  was  said  to  watch  the  church;  his 
name  was  "  Joe  Brown."  This  man  used 
to  inspire  my  youthful  fancy  with  great 
awe.  I  was  not  the  only  one  who  regarded 
him  with  fear  :  he  contrived  by  a  certain 
mysterious  behaviour,  to  impress  weak 
and  youthful  minds  with  feelings  which 
bordered  upon  terror.  His  person  is  vi- 
vidly imprinted  on  my  memory  ;  his  face 
was  broad,  his  features  coarse,  and  he 
had  what  is  called  a  hare-lip,  which 
caused  him  to  speak  through  the  nose,  or 
to  snaffle,  as  they  term  it  in  Yorkshire. 
He  never  would  directly  acknowledge 
that  he  watched  the  church ;  but  a  mys- 
terious shrug  or  nod  tended  to  convey  the 
assertion .  Two  ci  rcumstan  ces  which  took 
place  in  my  remembrance,  served  to 
stamp  his  fame  as  a  ghost-seer.  At  the 
fair-tide,  he  quarreled  with  a  young  man, 
who  put  him  out  of  the  room  in  which 
they  were  drinking;  he  told  his  antagonist 
that  he  would  be  under  the  sod  before 
that  day  twelve  months,  which  happened 
to  be  the  case.  The  other  circumstance 


was  this;  he  reported  a  young  man  would 
be  drowned,  who  lived  in  the  same  street 
in  which  my  father's  house  was  situated. 
I  well  recollect  the  report  being  current 
early  in  the  year.  On  Easter  Sunday,  a 
fine  young  man,  a  bricklayer's  apprentice 
went  to  bathe  in  the  river  Ouse,  (which 

runs  by  C d,  my  native  town,)  and  was 

drowned;  this  fulfilled  his  prediction,  and 
made  him  be  regarded  with  wonder. 
Whether  excited  by  the  celebrity  such 
casual  forebodings  acquired  him,  or  whe- 
ther a  knavish  propensity  lurked  at  the 
bottom  of  his  affected  visionary  abstracted- 
ness, this  last  of  the  "  church- watchers" 
turned  out  an  arrant  rogue ;  the  latter 
years  of  his  execrable  existence  were 
marked  with  rapine  and  murder.  For  a 
time  he  assumed  the  mask  of  religion,  but 
the  discipline  of  the  seethe  joined  was 
too  strict  to  suit  his  dishonest  views.  He 
was  expelled  the  society  for  mal-practices, 
quickly  joined  himself  to  another, 
and  afterwards  associated  with  a  loose 
young  man,  who,  if  alive,  is  in  New  South 
Wales,  whither  he  was  transported  for 
life.  They  commenced  a  system  of  petty 
plunder,  which  soon  increased  to  more 
daring  acts  of  robbery  and  burglary. 

They  withdrew  to  a  distance  from  C rd 

for  a  time;  a  warrant  was  out  against 
them  for  a  burglary,  of  which  they  were 
the  suspected  perpetrators.  They  went 
to  a  small  town  where  they  were  not 
known,  and  assumed  the  disguise  of  for- 
tune-tellers. "  Old  Joe"  was  the  "  wise 
man,"  and  affected  to  be  dumb,  whilst 
his  younger  confederate,  like  a  flamen  of 
old,  interpreted  his  mystic  signs.  They 
lodged  at  a  house  kept  by  two  aged  sis- 
ters, spinsters.  They  found  that  these 
females  were  possessed  of  a  little  money, 
and  kept  it  in  a  box.  One  night  they 
gave  their  hostesses  sweetened  ale,  in 
which  they  had  infused  a  quantity  of  lau- 
danum. One  of  the  poor  women  never 
woke  again,  but  the  other  lived.  These 
men  were  taken  up  and  examined,  but 
liberated  for  want  of  proof.  They  aftei- 
wards  were  suspected  of  having  shot  the 
Leeds  and  Selby  carrier  in  the  night ;  at 
length  they  were  taken  for  stealing  some 
hams,  and  in  consequence  of  their  bad 
character,  sentenced  to  transportation  for 
life.  The  termination  of  Joe's  life  was 
remarkable  ;  Sampson  like,  he  drew 
destruction  on  his  own  head.  When 
about  to  be  embarked  for  Botany  Bay, 
Joe,  either  touched  by  conscience,  or 
through  reluctance  to  leave  England,  made 


THE  EVEUY-DAf  BOOK.— APRIL  25. 


552 


a  confession  ot  his  crimes.  He  and 
his  companion  were  removed  from  the 
Isle  of  Wight  to  York  castle.  Joe  alone 
was  put  on  his  trial,  and,  though  not  cpn- 
victedon  his  own  confession,corroborating 
circumstances  of  his  guilt  were  produced, 
and  the  sister  of  the  poisoned  female  ap- 
peared against  him.  He  was  found  guilty 
of  the  murder,  and  executed  at  York,  at 
the  Lent  assizes  of  1 809.  Sir  Simon  Le 
Blanc  was  the  judge. 

I  have  dwelt  longer,  perhaps,  on  the 
vile  actions  of  this  last  of  the  "  church- 
watchers"  than  will  be  amusing  to  the  rea- 
der; but  he  seemed  completely  identified 
with  the  local  superstitions  of  the  county. 
In  some  degree  he  made  them  subservient 
to  further  his  roguish  designs,  by  assum- 
ing the  goblin  appearance  of  the  "  Bar- 
guest,"  and,  with  his  auxiliary,  turned  it 
to  no  bad  account.  This  preternatural 
appearance  alarmed  the  superstitious,  who 
fled,  pursued  by  the  supposed  demon.  In 
their  panic  haste  they  would  leave  their 
doors  or  gates  open,  and  the  rogues  never 
failed  to  turn  these  oversights  to  good  ac- 
count, plundering  the  house  or  robbing 
the  premises.  This  statement  is  strictly 
true  ,  they  robbed  several  people  in  this 
novel  and  ingenious  manner.  By  the  by, 
it  may  be  observed,  that  the  "  Barpuest" 
is  an  out-of-door  goblin,  believed  by  the 
vulgar  to  liaunt  the  streets  and  lanes  of 
country  towns  and  villages.  Its  al- 
leged appearance  indicates  .death,  or 
some  griat  calamity. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

J.  P. 


On  Monday,  April  24,  1825,  the  late 
Henry  Fuseli,  Esq.,  R.  A.  was  buried  in 
St.  Paul's  cathedral,  and  a  circumstance 
occurred  at  his  funeral  which  ought  to  be 
known.  A  gentleman,  whose  intimacy 
with  Mr.  Fuseli  seems  to  have  been  over- 
looked by  the  managers  of  the  funeral, 
was  desirous  of  paying  the  last  sad  tribute 
of  respect  to  the  remains  of  his  friend. 
He  waited  the  arrival  of  the  body  at  the 
cathedral  gate,  and,  after  the  authorized 
mourners  had  alighted,  joined  with  others 
in  following  the  procession.  At  the  in- 
stant that  the  train  from  the  mourning 
coaches  had  entered  the  great  west  doors, 
ihey  were  slammed  to  from  within  against 
all  who  bore  net  the  undertaker's  habili- 
ments of  woe,  and  it  was  announced  that 
the  rest  were  to  go  round  to  the  north 
door.  At  that  door  admittance  was  re- 


fused to  all  who  would  not  pay  "  two- 
pence a  piece."  Those  who  "  paid  two- 
pence" were  thus  permitted  to  hasten  and 
rejoin  the  train.  The  corpse  on  being 
borne  down  the  stairs  of  the  vault  was 
then  followed  as  before.  Here  the  door 
of  the  vault  was  suddenly  thrust  against 
all  who  were  not  mourners,  ex  qflicio,a.nd 
a  shilling  demanded  from  each  of  the 
sympathizing  attendants  who  had  not  on 
the  funeral  garments.  Compliance  with 
this  further  exaction  qualified  them  to  see 
the  "  funeral  performed."  This  was  per- 
sonally communicated  to  the  editor  by 
the  gentleman  referred  to. 

NATURALISTS*  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  48  •  97. 


25. 

ST.  MARK* 

St.  Mark's  day  was  anciently  kept  a 
fast  through  all  the  country,  and  no  flesh 
eaten  upon  it.  Also  upon  this,  and  the 
three  first  days  of  Cross,  or  the  Rogation 
week,  there  were  processions  by  the  prior 
and  monks  of  Durham  to  one  of  the  parish 
churches,  and  a  sermon  preached  at  each. 
Upon  Holy  Thursday  was  a  procession 
with  two  crosses,  borne  before  the  monks, 
and  each  in  rich  copes ;  the  prior  in  one 
of  cloth  of  gold,  so  massy  that  his  train 
was  supported.  Shrines  and  relics  were 
also  carried.  Of  the  two  litanies  per- 
formed twice  in  the  year,  the  greater  and 
the  less,  the  first,  on  St.  Mark's  day,  was 
instituted  by  Gregory  on  accouiU  of  a 
pestilence,  called  also  the  black  cross,  from. 
the  black  clothes  worn  from  weeping  and 
penance  ;  or  "  peraventure,  because  they 
covered  the  crosse  and  auters  with  blessed 
hayres."  The  smaller  litany  was  sung 
three  days  before  the  Ascension,  and  was 
called  the  rogations,  processions,  &c., 
because  then  a  general  procession  was 
made,  the  cross  borne,  and  bells  rung.  In 
the  procession  of  some  churches  there  was 
a  dragon  with  a  great  tail  filled  full  of 
chaff,  which  was  emptied  on  the  third  day, 
to  show  that  the  devil  after  prevailing  the 
first  and  second  day,  before  and  under 
the  law,  was  on  "  the  thyrde  day  of  grace, 
by  the  passion  of  Jhesu  criste,  put  out  ol 
'- 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  49  •  57. 


*  See  vol.  i.  p.  512,  521,  &c. 
t  Fosbroke's  British  Monacliism. 


553 


THE  E  VERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  26. 


554 


apni  26. 

A  LAND  STORM. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, — Permit  me  to  call  your  attention 
to  the  following  description  of  a  storm, 
which  may  be  acceptable  to  the  readers  of 
the  Every -Day  Book. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

J.W. 

COLONEL  BEAUFOY'S  ACCOUNT 
of  a  Remarkable  Storm. 

On  Sunday,  the  26th  of  April,  1818, 
about  half-past  twelve  o'clock,  the  neigh- 
bourhood  of  Stanmore  was  visited  by  a 
tremendous  storm  of  hail,  rain,  and  wind, 
accompanied   by   some   unusual  pheno- 
mena.   The  elevated  situation  of  Bushey 
heath  afforded   me  peculiar  facilities  for 
viewing  its  progress  and  effects,  which  oc- 
cupied  in  space  about  five  miles   in  a 
direct   line,   and  in   time  about  twenty 
minutes.     The  morning  had  been  close 
and  sultry,  the  heavens  sufficiently  clear 
to  enable  me  to  observe  the  transit  of  the 
sun  over  the  meridian,  the  wind  \ariable, 
the  barometer  29,000  inches,  the  thermo- 
meter 61°,  the  hygrometer  52°,  and  the 
variation  of  the  needle  24°  41'  46''  west. 
1   shortly   observed   the   heavens  in  the 
south-east  quarter   much   overcast,    and 
some  dense  black  clouds  forming  in  that 
direction,  wnich  immediately  discharged 
rair  in   torrents,  followed  by  tremendous 
hail,  lightning,  and  thunder.      In  about 
half  an  hour  the  fury  of  the  storm  had 
somew  Nat  abated,  when  my  attention  was 
attracted  to  the  south-east  by  an  amazing 
commotion  among  the  clouds,  which  ap- 
peared to  roll  over  and  into  each  other 
with  considerable  rapidity.  Beneath  these 
dark  clouds  there  appeared  a  small  white 
one,  moving  with  surprising  velocity  to- 
wards the  north-west ;  at  the  same  time 
whirling  round  in  a  horizontal  direction 
with  prodigious  quickness,  accompanied 
with  a  horrid  noise,  which  I  can  only  com- 
pare to  a  stunning  and  most  discordant 
whistle.     The  form  of  this  white  cloud 
was,  in  the  first  instance,  that  of  a  very  ob- 
tuse cone  with  its  apex  downwards,  which, 
during^its  rotary  motion,  occasionally  ap- 
proached and  retired  from  the  earth  ;  the 
tail  of  the  cone  elongating  continually  as 
it  receded,  but  on  approaching  the  surface 
of  the  ground  expanding  like  the  lower 
part  of  an  hour-glass  ;  when  it  appeared 
to  -io'lect  all  the  surrounding  air  into  its 


immediate  vortex,  as  it  rebounded  with 
such  violence  as  to  root  up  trees,  unroof 
houses  and   hayricks,  throw  down  walls 
and  in  short  every  thing  that  impeded  its 
progress.    The  effects  were,  however,  ex- 
ceedingly partial  and  irregular,  depend- 
ing apparently  on   the   distance  of    the 
mouth  of  the  funnel  from  such  objects  as 
chanced  to  come  in  the  course  of  direc- 
tion ;  as  also  on  the  area  included  within 
the  vortex,   at   the  times   it  exerted   its 
powers  of  destruction.      This  whirlwind 
appears  to  have  commenced  near  Mrs. 
Dickson's  farm,  situated   about  one  mile 
to  the  west  of  the  village  of  Kenton,  in 
Middlesex ;  and  from  thence  proceeded 
in  a  north  by  west  direction,  by  compass, 
over  Bellemont,  through  the  orchard  ad- 
joining the  widow  Woodbridge's  cottage, 
over  Mr.  Roberts's  field,  Mr.  Riddock's 
nursery,  Mr.  Martin's  pleasure-grounds,, 
Mr.  Utterson's  plantations,  and  the  mar- 
quis of  Abercorn's   to   Mr.  BlackweUY 
premises,  where  it  changed  its  direction 
from  north  by  west,  to  north  by  east,  pass- 
ing over   Bushey   village,  through    Mr. 
Bellas's  farm  and   orchard,  and  finally  ex- 
hausting its  fury  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
further.      At  Mr.  Dickson's  farm  it  re- 
moved some  ridge  tiles,  and  part  of  the 
thatch   of  outhouses  and  hayricks ;  and 
on  reaching  widow  Woodbridge's  orchard 
it  had  obtained  much  greater  force,  as  it 
levelled  the  fruit  trees  and  tore  away  a 
greater  part  of  the  tiling  of  the  cottage, 
against  which  it  carried  a  wooden  build- 
ing several  feet  with  great  violence.     In 
passing   through   Mr.   Roberts's  field   it 
blew  down  eleven  large  elms,  the  breadth 
of  the  tornado  at  this  place  not  exceeding 
one  hundred  yards,  as  was  evident  from 
the  trifling  injury  sustained  by  the  other 
trees  to  the  right  and  left.      Crossing  the 
road  leading  to  Stanmore,  it  entered  Mr. 
Riddock's  nursery,  where  it  did  consider- 
able injury  to  the  young  trees,  and  almost 
entirely  stripped  one  side  of  the  house, 
carrying  away  the  thatch  of  the  hayricks, 
and  unroofing  some  of  the  outhouses.    A 
large  may-bush  that  stood  in  front  of  the 
greenhouse  of  Mr.  Martin  was  rooted  up, 
but  neither  the  building  nor  glass  received 
the  smallest  injury ;  while  a  shed  at  the 
back  of  the  house,  and  likewise  the  cow- 
house which  almost  adjoined,  had  many 
tiles    carried    away.       It  next  entered 
Mr.  Utterson's  plantations,  and  destroyed 
fifty  trees,  appearing  to  have  selected  par- 
ticular ones  to  wreak  its  fury  ;  for  while 
one  was  torn  up  by  the  roots,  those  around 


555 


THE  EVERY-PAY  BOOK.— APRIL  26. 


556 


it  were  untouched,  and  some  were  bro- 
ken in  two  places  as  though  thsy  had  been 
twice  subjected  to  the  action  of  the  vortex. 
On  approaching  Mr.  Utterson's  cottage 
the  storm  divided  into  two  parts,  one  pro- 
ceeded to  the  right,  the  other  to  the  left, 
as  was  shown  by  the  thatch  remaining  un- 
disturbed, while  trees  standing  both  in 
front  and  behind  the  house  were  thrown 
down.  At  the  extremity  of  the  house  the 
storm  seems  to  have  again  united,  as  it 
tore  away  some  wooden  paling  though 
completely  sheltered  by  the  building, 
stripping  the  tiles  of  lower  outhouses,  and 
throwing  down  a  considerable  part  of  the 
garden  wall.  At  the  marquis  of  Aber- 
corn's  it  passed  close  by  an  elm,  one  of 
whose  branches  it  carried  away,  the  re- 
mainder being  untouched;  and  it  then 
threw  down  about  seventy-five  yards  of 
garden  wall,  and  leaving  an  interval  of 
the  same  extent  uninjured,  destroyed 
thirty  more  ;  this  seems  to  imply  that  the 
storm  had  here  a  second  time  divided. 
Near  this  spot  one  of  the  marquis's  work- 
men was  thrown  down  by  the  violence  of 
the  wind,  and  after  being  rolled  over  re- 
peatedly, was  at  length  compelled  to  hold 
by  the  grass  to  prevent  his  being  carried 
further.  In  passing  over  the  dovehouse 
the  pigeons  were  whirled  to  the  ground, 
and  a  quantity  of  paling  was  torn  up  and 
blown  to  a  great  distance.  The  current 
of  wind  now  proceeded  across  the  road 
to  Mr.  Blackwell's  brick-kiln,  tearing  from 
its  hinges  and  tumbling  into  a  ditch  a 
fieldgate;  levelling  sixty -five  feet  of  the 
garden  wall  in  one  direction,  and  also  the 
upper  part  of  another  wall  running  in 
right  angles,  in  the  opposite.  The  out- 
houses at  this  place  were  much  damaged, 
but  the  dwelling-house  was  not  touched. 
After  leaving  the  garden  it  assailed  a 
large  beech,  which  measured  at  the  base 
eigliteen  feet  in  circumference.  My  eye 
happened  to  be  fixed  on  this  tree  at  the 
moment ;  the  wind  commenced  by  giving 
its  large  head  a  considerable  twist,  and 
in  an  instant  tore  it  up  by  the  roots. 
After  passing  over  the  gravel  pits  at 
Harrow  Weald,  and  a  part  of  the  village 
of  Bushey,  where  it  nearly  unroofed  a 
house,  it  continued  its  course  without 
doing  any  further  mischief  until  it  reached 
Mr.  Bellas's  farm.  At  this  place  its  effects 
were  very  destructive  among  the  fruit- 
trees  and  large  elms,  besides  tearing  away 
the  tiles  and  thatch  of  the  house,  build- 
ings, and  ricks  ;  for  here  the  storm  appears 
to  have  contracted  to  a  width  of  sixty 


yards,  and  its  impetuosity  to  have  in- 
creased in  proportion  as  its  breadth 
diminished.  After  passing  in  a  north  by 
east  direction  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
further  than  Mr.  Bellas's  farm,  its  fury 
most  probably  subsided,  as  the  only  fur- 
ther mischief  I  have  been  able  to  trace 
was  the  destruction  of  two  small  elms  in 
a  hedgerow,  and  whose  support  had  been 
weakened  by  digging  away  the  earth  from 
their  roots.  I  observed  when  the  clouds 
or  vapour  from  which  all  this  storm  pro- 
ceeded, enveloped  the  upper  part  of  the 
cone  in  which  Mr.  Blackwell  burns  his 
bricks,  the  cone  appeared  to  be  surrounded 
with  a  thick  mist,  and  most  violently  agi- 
tated. I  also  observed  that  in  its  pass- 
age over  the  gravel  pits,  it  tore  up  the 
earth  and  gravel,  not  in  a  uniform  man- 
ner, but,  as  it  were,  by  jumps,  leaving  in- 
tervals between  the  various  points  of  con- 
tact of  sometimes  one  hundred  yards  and 
upwards;  and  the  dreadful  whistling  noise 
continued  unabated  until  the  cessation  of 
the  storm.  This  phenomena  was  at  one 
time  within  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
of  my  house ;  but  the  trees  in  the  garden 
were  not  much  affected  by  it,  though  I 
have  reason  to  believe,  from  the  testimony 
of  several  persons,  on  whose  veracity  I 
can  rely,  that  the  violence  of  the  storm 
was  such  as  to  force  them  to  lay  hold  of 
hedges  to  prevent  their  being  thrown 
down.  Mr.  Blackwell,  in  particular,  men- 
tioned that  in  returning  from  church  with 
one  of  his  children,  in  order  to  secure 
himself  and  boy  from  being  carried  away, 
he  was  obliged  to  hold  by  a  stake.  It  is 
further  stated  on  the  most  respectable 
authority,  that  cattle  were  seen  lifted,  or 
rather  driven,  from  one  end  of  the  field  to 
the  other.  There  is  reason  to  believe 
that  one  or  more  meteoric  stones  fell  du- 
ring the  storm ;  for  one  of  the  late  mar- 
quis of  Abercorn's  gardeners  told  me  he 
had  observed  "  a  large  stone  about  the 
size  of  his  fist,  descend  in  nearly  a  per- 
pendicular direction,  after  a  very  dazzling 
flash  of  lightning,  not  followed  by  thun- 
der." At  my  request  he  readily  showed 
the  spot  on  which  it  apparently  fell ;  but 
the  place  being  full  of  holes  the  search 
was  unsuccessful ;  or  it  might  have  fallen 
into  a  pond  situated  near  the  place.  I, 
as  well  as  others,  after  a  flash  of  light- 
ning, heard  a  noise  similar  to  the  tiring 
of  a  large  rocket,  or  resembling  a  number 
of  hard  substances  shot  out  of  a  cart.* 

*  Thomson's  Annals. 


457 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  27. 


558 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  49  .  35. 


l  27. 


A  SPRING  WALK 
ON  THE  SURREY  HILLS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir,  —  Having,  like  Falstaff,  "  babbled  o' 
green  fields/'  I  resolved   to  visit  them  ; 
and  a    few  mornings   ago,  taking  with 
me  a  certain  talisman  with  his  majesty's 
head  thereon,  I  bent  my  steps    through 
the  now    populous    town  of  Walworth, 
famous,  like  London,  for  its  "  Sir  Wil- 
liam," and  in  whose  history  are  many 
things  well  worthy   your   notice.      Pro- 
ceeding thence  through   Camberwell,    I 
ascended  the  hill  at  whose  foot  quietly 
stands  the  Sunday  resort  of  many  town 
immured  beings,  the  public-house  yclept 
*'    the    Fox-under-the-Hill."      Here   the 
works  of  man  are  intruding  on  the  coun- 
try in   villas  of  various  shapes  and  di- 
mensions, the  sight  of  which  would  make 
the  former  possessors  of  the  land,  if  they 
loved  their  fields,  and  could  look  around 
them,  feel  as  did    the   American  chief, 
who  dining  one  day  with  some   British 
officers   at  a  house  which  commanded  a 
view  of  the  vast  lakes  and  forests  for- 
merly the  inheritance  of  his  fathers,  was 
observed  to  eye  the  scene  before  him  with 
melancholy   scrutiny.  —  "  Chieftain,"    re- 
marked General  --  ,  "  you  are  sad  !" 
"  I  am  ;"  was  his  answer,  "  and  how  can 
I  be  otherwise,  when  I  think  of  the  time 
when  all  I  look  on  was  the  property  of 
my  nation  ;  but  'tis  gone  ;  the  white  men 
have  got  it,  and  we  are  a  houseless  and  a 
homeless  people.     The  white  man  came 
in  his  bark,  and  asked  leave  to  tie  it  to  a 
tree;  it  was  given  him  —  he  then  asked  to 
build  him  ahut;  it  was  granted  —  but  how 
was  our  kindness  repaid  ?  his  hut  became 
a  fort,  his  bark  brought  in  her  womb  the 
children  of  the  thunder  to  our  shores  — 
they  drove  us  from  forest  to  forest,  from 
mountain   to  mountain,  they   destroyed 
our  habitations   and    our    people,   they 
rooted  up  our  trees,  and  have  left  us  but 
the  desert  —  I  am  sad  ;  and  how  can  I 
be  otherwise  ?"     I  return  from  this  digres- 
sion to  ascend  Herne  Hill,  the  Elysium 
of  many  of  our  merchants  and  traders, 
whose    dwellings    look    the    abodes    of 
happy  mortals,  —  beings,  seeking,  in   re- 
Inerncnt  from   the  busy  world,  to  repay 


themselves  for  the  anxieties  and  fatigues 
of  life  with  peace  and  competence. 

O,  how  blest  is  he  who  here 
Can  calmly  end  life's  wild  career; 
He  who  in  the  torrid  zone, 
Hath  the  spirit's  wasting  known, 
Or  pin'd  where  winter  'neath  the  pole, 
Through  the  body  wrings  the  soul, 
Losing  in  this  peaceful  spot 
Memory  of  his  former  lot. 
And  O,  how  happy  were  it  mine, 
To  build  me  here,  ere  life  decline, 
A  cot,  'mid  these  sequestered  grounds, 
With  every  year  three  hundred  pounds. 
Gentlemen  of  Herne  Hill  I  envy  you — . 
but  I  am  not  a  money-getting  man,  so  it 
is  useless    to  wish  for  such  a  treasure. 
Proceeding  onward,  I    wind    down   the 
southern  declivity  of  this  lovely  Olympus 
— it  has  been,  ere  now,  to  me,  a  Parnas- 
sus, but  that  is  past,  and  the  hoofs  of 
Lancefield's  steeds  have  superseded  those 
of  Pegasus. — On  the  left  a  quiet  green 
lane,  such  as  Byron  would  have  loved, 
leads  to  Dulwich,  famous  for  its  college, 
and  the  well  paid  and  well  fed  inhabitants 
thereof,  and  its  gallery  of  pictures.     On 
the  right   is   an   opening  as  yet  unpro- 
faned   by   brick   and   mortar — the    only 
place  now  left,  from  whence  a  traveller 
can  view  the  soft  scenery  around.     I  go 
down  this  vista,  and  am  rewarded  with  a 
beauteous  prospect  of   variegated    hills, 
vallies,  meadows,  &c.  &c.     I  again  ap- 
proach the  steep,  retracing  my  path  ;  and 
descending  further,  green  fields  and  still 
greener  hedges  are  on  each  side  of  me, 
studded  with  various  wild  flowers.     At 
every «step  I  hear  the  rich  music  of  na- 
ture ;  the  sky-lark  is  above  me  singing, 
heedless   if  the    gled*  be    in   the   blue 
cloud ;    and    at  least   a   score  of  robins 
with  their  full  bright  eyes,  and  red   bo- 
soms, hopping  about  me,  singing  as  stout 
as  if  it  was  winter,  and  looking  quite  as 
bold.     There  is  a  mixture  of  cheerfulness 
and  melancholy  in  their  song,  which  to 
me  is  pleasing ;  now  loud  and  shrill,  and 
.now  a  long  rolling  sound  like  the  rising 
of  the  wind.     Advancing,  I  come  in  sight 
of  the  New  Church  of  Norwood  with  its 
unsightly  steeple.     Ichabod  !  the  glory  of 
the  church  has  departed.     I  riever   ob- 
serve the  new  churches  on   the   Surrey 
side    of    the    river,  without    imagining 
their   long    bodies    and    short    steeples 
look,    from     a    distance,  like    the    rud- 
ders of  so  many  sailing  barges.     Where 

*Hawk 


559 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  27. 


560 


is  the  grand  oriel — the  square  tower? 
what  have  we  in  their  stead  ?  a  common 
granary  casement,  and  a  shapeless  spire. 
I  again  move  onward  rather  tired,  and 
turning  to  the  left,  after  a  short  up- 
hill journey  with  a  charming  view  on  all 
sides,  arrive  at  "  the  Woodman,"  where 
the  talisman  I  spoke  of  showed  its  power, 
by  instantly  procuring  me  good  eating 
and  other  refreshing  solace.  Here  a  man 
might  sit  for  an  hour  unwearied,  better  in 
hea*d  and  heart  from  the  loveliness  of  the 
scenery  beneath  him ;  and  here  I  repose, — 

Inhaling  as  the  news  I  read 

The  fragrance  of  the  Indian  weed. 

You  are,  I  have  heard,  no  smoker ;  yet 
there  is  *'  a  something"  in  a  pipe  which 
produces  that  tranquillity  of  mind  you  so 
much  need ;  if  alone  it  is  a  companion, 
bringing  quiet  thoughts  and  pleasing 
visions  j  it  is  a  good  friend  if  not  abused, 
and  is,  above  all,  a  promoter  of  digestion 
— no  bad  quality.  Below  me,  yet  wear- 
ing its  livery  of  brown,  lies  the  wood, 
the  shadowy  haunt  of  the  gypsey  tribe  ere 
magisterial  authority  drove  them  away. 
Many  a  pleasant  hour  have  I  spent  in  my 
younger  days  with  its  Cassandras,  listen- 
ing to  their  prophetic  voices,  and  looking 
at  their  dark  eyes. 

O,  the  dusky  hands  are  ne'er  forgot, 

That  my  palm  trac'd, 
Of  her  I  clasp'd,  in  that  calm  spot, 

Around  the  waist ; 
I  feel  the  thrill 
Of  her  fingers  still, 

Her  dark  eyes  on  me  beam, 
O,  what  joyous  thoughts  my  bosom  fill 

Of  that  sweet  dream. 
But — as  the  song  says — 

"  Farewell  to  lilenowen 
For  I  must  be  going." 

I  proceed ;  Sydenham  lies  before  me, 
beyond  it  in  softened  distance,  Becken- 
ham  and  Bromley  meet  the  eye,  with 
Dulwich  below — and  half  hidden,  and 
afar  off,  is  smoky  London,  with  the 
Abbey  towers  and  St.  Paul's  dome  look- 
ing gloomily  grand.  In  the  foreground 
lies  a  rich  variety  of  upland  and  dale, 
studded  with  snow  white  dwellings. 
Leaving  the  wood  on  my  left,  I  reach  the 
reservoir  of  the  canal,  and  read  no  less 
than  three  boards  threatening  with  the 
severest  penalties  all  intruders.  Again  I 
am  surrounded  with  sky-larks ;  I  watch 
one  leave  the  grass,  he  is  up  nearly  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  and  here  I  meet  a 
man  with  a  dozen  or  more  nests  of  young 


birds,  blackbirds,  thrushes,  and  robins, 
which  is  very  early  for  the  latter.  Pacing 
slowly  up  a  quiet  lane  to  the  left  of  the 
canal,  I  arrive  at.  a  few  delightful  cot- 
tages on  the  brow  of  the  hill ;  below  them 
to  the  south — 

A  lovely  prospect  opens  wide, 
Wave-like  hills  on  every  side, 
By  human  hands  diversified. 

Somewhere  near  the  canal,  at  a  brick- 
maker's  hut,,  poor  Dermody,  the  Irish 
poet,  retired  sick,  and  in  poverty.  Turn- 
ing to  the  left  I  view  Forest  Hill,  the 
sweetest  haunt  of  my  poetic  hours,  but 
here,  as  at  every  other  desirable  spot  for 
meditation,  frowns  the  warning  board-, 
placed  by  the  hand  of  envious  mono- 
poly— 

"  The  law  will  punish  all  who  enter  here." 
Nun  Head  Hill,  the  favourite  resort  of 
smoke-dried  artisans,  and  other  Lon- 
doners, is  taken  from  them,  and  a 
narrow  path  is  all  that  remains  for  their 
Suuday  promenade.  Ruminating  on  the 
change  I  move  on,  and  espying  a  gap  in 
the  hedge,  enter  a  field,  where,  reclining 
on  the  long  grass,  I  muse,  till,  like  the 
shadowy  kings  in  Macbeth,  my  cares 
and  sorrows  pass  before  me.  I  listen !  it 
is  the  music  of  heaven — numerous  sky- 
larks tower  aloft,  the  best  I  have  yet 
heard ;  ye  that  wish  for  good  ones 
catch  them  here — which  advice,  if  they 
heard,  would  doubtless  bring  them  down 
on  me  with  beak  and  claw.  Hark!  it  is 
the  tit-lark,  the  harbinger  of  the  nightin- 
gale ;  he  is  just  come  over,  and  the  other 
ttill  quickly  follow :  he  drops  from  the 
tallest  tree,  and  sings  till  earth  receives 
him.  His  song  is  short,  but  very  sweet; 
nothing  can  equal  his  rising  "  Weet — 
weet — weet — weet — weet — weet — weet," 
and  dying  "  Feer — feer — feer — feer — feer 
— feer — feer,"  and  his  lengthened  "  Snee 

Jug — JUS — Jug-"     I1  '1S  fr°m  nim 

that  the  best  notes  of  your  canaries  are 
obtained  ;  he  will  sing  till  July.  About 
the  fifteenth,  the  fowler  will  go  out,  and 
the  nightingale  will  sell  his  freedom  for  a 
meal-worm — how  many  of  us  mortals  do 
the  same  to  gratify  our  appetites  !  The 
bird  now  caught  will  be  a  good  one, 
which  is  more  than  I  can  say  of  the  mor- 
tal. He  will  not  yet  have  paired  with 
the  hen,  she  not  having  made  her  ap- 
pearance. The  males  arrive  first,  at 
least  so  say  the  catchers,  but  I  doubt 
if  they  emigrate  at  all.  The  tame  ones 
in  cages  when  they  leave  oft'  song  get 


561 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  28,  29. 


562 


extremely  fat,  and  are  half  stupid  till  the 
season  returns;  perhaps  the  wild  ones  do 
the  same,  and  retire  into  secrecy  during 
the  winter.  I  merely  surmise  that  such 
may  be  the  case. 

Evening  drawing  on,  and  the  wind 
edging  round  to  the  northward,  I  bend 
my  course  through  Peckham,  and  again 
enter  the  busy  haunts  of  man,  where, 
reaching  my  home,  I  sit  down  and  write 
this  for  your  columns,  hoping  it  may  be 
acceptable. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c.  J. 

Kent  Road, 
April  1,4,  1826. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  50  .  20 . 

aprtt  28. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

In  1658,  during  this  month,  the  ac- 
complished colonel  Richard  Lovelace  died 
in  the  Gatehouse  at  Westminster,  whither 
he  had  been  committed  for  his  devotion 
to  the  interests  and  fortunes  of  the  Stuart 
family.  His  celebrity  is  preserved  by 
some  elegant  poems ;  one  is  especially 
remarkable  for  natural  imagery,  and 
beautiful  expression  of  noble  thought  :— 

When  love  with  unconfined  wings 

Hovers  within  my  gates, 
And  my  divine  Althea  brings 

To  whisper  at  my  grates ; 
When  I  lye  tangled  in  her  haire, 

And  fettered  with  her  eye, 
The  birds  that  wanton  in  the  aire 

Know  no  such  libertye. 

When  flowing  cups  ran  swiftly  round 

With  no  allaying  Thames, 
Our  carelesse  heads  with  roses  crowned, 

Our  hearts  with  loyal  flames  ; 
When  thirsty  griefe  in  wine  we  steepe, 

When  healths  and  draughts  goe  free, 
Fishes,  that  tipple  in  the  deepe, 

Know  no  such  libertie. 

When,  linnet-like,  confined.  I 

With  shriller  note  shall  sing 
The  mercye,  sweetness,  majestye, 

And  glories  of  my  king  ; 
When  I  shall  voyce  aloud  how  good 

He  is,  how  great  should  be, 
Th'  enlarged  winds,  that  curl  the  flood, 

Know  no  such  libertie. 

Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 

Nor  iron  barrs  a  cage, 
Mindes,  innocent  and  quiet,  take 

That  for  an  hermitage  : 


If  I  have  freedom  in  my  love, 
And  in  my  soule  am  free, 

Angels  alone,  that  soare  above, 
Enjoy  such  libertie 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  50  •  21. 


l  29. 


THE  APRIL  OF  1826. 

This  month  is  remarkable  for  the  en- 
durance of  great  suffering  by  many  thou- 
sands of  English  artisans. 

In  a  "  Statement  to  the  Right  Hon. 
Robert  Peel,  by  the  Hand-loom  Weavers 
of  Blackburn,"  they  say  — 

"  Our  dwellings  are  totally  destitute  of 
every  comfort. 

"  Every  artic»*  of  value  has  disappear- 
ed, either  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger, 
or  to  appease  the  clamour  of  relentless 
creditors.. 

"  Thousands  who  were  once  possessed 
of  an  honest  independence  gained  by  la- 
borious industry,  are  now  sunk  in  the 
lowest  depths  of  poverty. 

«'  Were  the  humane  man  to  visit  the 
dwellings  of  four-  fifths  of  the  weavers, 
and  see  the  miserable  pittance  which  six- 
teen hours'  hard  labour  can  procure,  even 
of  those  who  are  fully  employed,  divided 
between  the  wretched  parents  and  their 
starving  little  ones,  he  would  sicken  at  the 
sight. 

"  When  we  look  upon  our  starving 
wives  and  children,  and  have  no  bread  to 
give  them,  we  should  consider  ourselves 
still  more  degraded  than  we  are,  as  unde- 
serving the  name  of  Englishmen,  were  we 
to  withhold  our  complaint  from  his  ma- 
jesty's government,  or  to  abstain  from 
speaking  in  proper  terms  of  what  we  con- 
sider the  present  unparalleled  distress 
which  exists  among  the  weavers  ;  and  we 
implore  you,  sir,  by  all  the  ties  which  bind 
the  patriot  to  his  country,  by  that  anxiety 
for  the  welfare  of  England  which  you 
have  frequently  evinced,  to  use  that  in- 
fluence which  you  possess  with  his  ma- 
jesty's government  towards  procuring  an 
amelioration  of  the  condition  of  the  most 
injured  and  oppressed  class  of  his  ma- 
jesty's subjects." 

The  rev.  Joseph  Fletcher  of  Mile-end 
corroborates  these  statements  by  local 
acquaintance  with  the  districts,  and  affirms 
of  his  own  knowledge,  that  "  the  recent 
causes  of  commercial  distress  have  pro- 
duoed  unparalleled  misery.'' 


663 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  29. 


5C4 


•'  In  the  town  of  Blackburn  and  its 
vicinity,  it  has  reached  its  highest  point  of 
aggravation.  At  ths  present  crisis,  up- 
wards of  seven  thousand  looms  are  un- 
employed in  Blackburn,  and  nearly  four- 
teen thousand  persons  have  been  com- 
pelled to  depend  on  the  bounty  of  the  in- 
habitants ;  and  as,  according  to  the  late 
census,  Blackburn  contains  about  twenty- 
one  thousand  inhabitants,  two-thirds  of 
the  population  are  in  a  state  of  utter 
destitution. 

"  The  remaining  number  of  the  middle 
and  higher  classes  of  society,  bears  a  far 
less  proportion  to  the  population  than  in 
any  part  of  the  kingdom,  while  the  same 
disproportion  exists  amidst  a  teeming  and 
immense  population  in  the  villages  and 
hamlets  of  the  district. 

"  Thus,  the  accessible  sources  of  relief 
are  diminished,  and  the  means  of  allevia- 
tion are  not  in  the  power  of  those  whose 
very  dependence  for  their  own  supply  rests 
on  the  destitute  themselves." 


The  pleasure  of  the  very  poor  man, 
while  he  endures  the  privations  of  his  or- 
dinary condition,  is  the  mere  absence  of 
bodily  disease ;  and  he  patiently  awaits 
the  time  when  his  life  shall  depart,  and 
his  body  shall  be  buried  at  the  parish 
expense,  and  his  family  shall  walk  from 
his  funeral  into  the  workhouse.  This  is 
his  state  in  the  best  of  times ;  but,  in  a 
season  of  general  calamity  to  his  class, 
when  the  barely  sufficient  sources  of  ex- 
istence fail,  his  death  is  no  provision  for 
his  wife  and  children;  then  the  poor 
are  rated  for  the  maintenance  of  the  poor ; 
whole  parishes  became  paupers ;  and  the 
district  must  necessarily  be  supported  by 
voluntary  contributions  throughout  the 
country. 

The  dwelling  of  the  very  poor  man  is 
always  cheerless  ;  but  the  abode  of  indi- 
gence, reduced  to  starvation,  is  a  cave 
of  despair.  Thousands  of  families  are 
perishing  for  lack  of  food  at  the  moment 
when  this  is  written.  From  him  who  has  a 
Httle,  a  little  is  required — and  from  him 
who  has  much,  much  is  required — that 
the  plague  of  famine  be  stayed.  The 
case  is  beyond  the  reach  of  legislation, 
but  clearly  within  the  power  of  associated 
Denevolence  to  mitigate.  A  cry  01 
hunger  is  gone  forth — is  the  ear  deaf,  that 
it  cannot  hear  ? — are  the  hands  that  have 
been  often  effectually  stretched  forth, 
shortened  ihat  they  cannot  save  ? 


,'•>  ;      THE  POOR  MAN'S  HOME. 

"  Home  is  home,  though  it   is  never  so 
homely."    Exceptions  to  this  position  are 
taken  by  ELIA,  who,  as  regards  the  poor 
man,  deems   it   a   "  fallacy,"  to   which 
"crowded  places  of  cheap  entertainment, 
and  the  benches  of  alehouses,  if  they  could 
speak,  would  bear  mournful  testimony." 
— "  To  them  the  very  poor  man  resorts  for 
an  image  of  the  home,  which  he  cannot 
find  at  home.      For  a  starved  grate,  and 
a  scanty  firing,  that  is    not  enough  to 
keep  alive  the  natural  heat  in  the  fingers 
of  so  many  shivering  children  with  their 
mother,  he  finds  in  the  depth  of  winter 
always  a  blazing  hearth,  and  a  hob  to 
•warm  his  pittance  of  beer  by.     Instead 
of  the  clamours  of  a  wife,  made  gaunt  by 
famishing,  he  meets  with  a  cheerful  at- 
tendance beyond  the  merits  of  the  trifle 
which  he  can  afford  to  spend.      He  has 
companions  which  his  home  denies  him, 
for  the  very  poor  man  can  ask  no  visiters. 
He  can  look  into  the  goings  on  of  the 
world,  and  speak  a  little  to  politics.      At 
home  there  are  no  politics  stirring  but 
the  domestic.     All  interests,  real  or  ima- 
ginary, all  topics  that  should  expand  the 
mind  of  man,  and  connect  him  with  a 
sympathy  to  general  existence,  are  crushed 
in  the  absorbing  consideration  of  food  to 
be  obtained  for  the  family.     Beyond  the 
price  of  bread,  news  is  senseless  and  im- 
pertinent.     At  home  there  is  no  larder. 
Here  there  is  at  least  a  show  of  plenty  j 
and  while  he   cooks   his   lean   scrap   of 
butcher's  meat  before  the  common  bars, 
or  munches  his  humble  cold  viands,  his 
relishing  bread  and  cheese  with  an  onion,, 
in  a  corner,  where  no  one  reflects  upon 
his  poverty,  he  has  sight  of  the  substan- 
tial joint  providing  for  the  landlord  and 
his  family.      He  takes  an  interest  in  the 
dressing  of  it  ;  and  while  he  assists  in 
removing  the  trivet  from  the  fire,  he  feels 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  beef  and  cab- 
bage, which  he  was  beginning  to  forget 
at  home.      All  this  while  he  deserts  his 
wife  and  children.      But  what  wife,  and 
what   children  ?     Prosperous  men,  who 
object  to  this  desertion,  image  to  them- 
selves    some    clean     contented     family 
like  that  which  they  go  home  to.     But 
look    at  the   countenance    of    the   poor 
wives  who  follow    and    persecute    their 
good  man  to  the  door  of  the  public-house, 
which  he  is  about  to  enter,  when  some- 
thing like  shame  would  restrain  him,  if 
stronger  misery   did   not  induce  him  to 
pass  the  threshold.    That  face,  ground  by 


565 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— APRIL  30. 


566 


want,  in  which  every  cheerful,  every  con- 
versable lineament  has  been  long  effaced 
by  misery, — is  that  a  face  to  stay  at  home 
with  ?  is  it  more  a  woman,  or  a  wild  cat? 
alas !    it   is  the  face  of  the  wife  of  his 
youth,  that  once  smiled  upon  him.     It 
can   smile   no   longer.      What   comforts 
can    it    share?    what    burdens    can    it 
lighten?    Oh,  it  is  a  fine  thing  to  talk  of 
the  humble  meal  shared  together.      But 
what  if  there  be  no  bread  in  the  cupboard  ? 
The  innocent  prattle  of  his  children  takes 
out  the  sting  of  a  man's  poverty.     But 
the  children   of  the  very    poor   do   not 
prattle.     It  is  none  of  the  least  frightful 
features  in  that  condition,  that  there  is  no 
childishness  in  its  dwellings.      Poor  peo- 
ple, said  a  sensible  old  nurse  to  us  once, 
do  not  bring  up  their  children ;  they  drag 
them  up.     The  little  careless  darling  of 
the  wealthier  nursery,  in  their  hovel  is 
transformed   betimes  into   a    premature 
reflecting  person      No  one  has  time  to 
dandle  it,  no  one  thinks  it  worth  while  to 
coax  it,  to  soothe   it,  to   toss  it  up  and 
down,  to  humour  it.     There  is  none  to 
kiss  away  its  tears.     If  it  cries,  it   can 
only  be  beaten.     It  has  been  prettily  said, 
that  a  babe  is  fed  with  milk  and  praise. 
But  the   aliment  of  this  poor  babe   was 
thin,  unnourishing ;  the  return  to  its  little 
baby-tricks,  and  efforts  to  engage  atten- 
tion, bitter  ceaseless  objurgation.  It  never 
had  a  toy,  or  knew  what  a  coral  meant. 
It     grew     up    without    the    lullaby    of 
nurses ;  it  was  a  stranger  to  the  patient 
fondle,  the  hushing  caress,  the  attracting 
novelty,  the    costlier  plaything,    or  the 
cheaper   off-hand   contrivance    to   divert 
the   child  ;  the   prattled    nonsense,  (best 
sense  to  it,)  the  wise  impertinencies,  the 
wholesome  lies,  the  apt  story  interposed, 
that  puts  a  stop  to  present  sufferings,  and 
awakens  the  passion  of  young  wonder. 
It  was  never  sung  to,  no  one  ever  told  to 
it  a  tale  of  the  nursery.     It  was  dragged 
up,  to  live  or  to  die  as  it  happened.     It 
had  no  young  dreams.     It  broke  at  once 
into   the  iron  realities   of  real   life.     A 
child  exists  not  for  the  very  poor  as  any 
object  of  dalliance;  it   is  only    another 
mouth  to  be  fed,  a  pair   of  little  hands 
to  be  betimes  inured  to  labour.     It  is  the 
rival,  till  it  can  be  the  co-operator,  for 
food  with  the  parent.      It  is  never  his 
mirth,  his  diversion,  his  solace  ;  it  never 
makes    him    young  again,  with    recall- 
ing his  young  times.    The  children  of  the 
very  poor  have  no  young  times.    It  makes 
the   very  heart  to  bleed  to  overheai   the 


casual  street-talk,  between  a  poor  woman 
and  her  little  girl,  a  woman  of  the  better 
sort  of  poor,  in  a  condition  rather  above 
the  squalid  beings  which  we  have  been 
contemplating.  It  is  not  of  toys,  of 
nursery  books,  of  summer  holidays  (fit- 
ting that  age)  ;  of  the  promised  sight,  or 
play  ;  of  praised  sufficiency  at  school. 
It  is  of  mangling  and  clear  starching,  of 
the  price  of  coals,  or  of  potatoes.  The 
questions  of  the  child,  that  should  be  the 
very  outpourings  of  curiosity  in  idleness, 
are  marked  with  forecast  and  melancholy 
providence.  It  has  come  to  be  a  woman, 
before  it  was  a  child.  It  has  learned  to 
go  to  market  ;  it  chaffers.  It  haggles,  it 
envies,  it  murmurs  ;  it  is  knowing,  acute, 
sharpened;  it  never  prattles.  Had  we 
not  reason  to  say  that  the  home  of  the 
very  poor  is  no  home  ?"* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  49  •  02. 

ajm'I  so. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  30th  of  April,  1745,  the  battle 
of  Fontenoy  was  fought  between  the 
allied  armies  of  England,  Holland,  and 
Austria,  under  the  command  of  the  duke 
of  Cumberland,  and  a  superior  French 
army,  under  marshal  count  De  Saxe. 
Here  the  advantage  of  the  day  was  to 
the  French  ;  the  duke  of  Cumberland 
left  his  sick  and  wounded  to  the  humanity 
of  the  victors,  and  Louis  XV.  obtained 
the  mastery  of  the  Netherlands. 

The  battle  was  commenced  with  the 
formal  politeness  of  a  court  minuet. 
Captain  Lord  Charles  Hay,  of  the  English 
guards,  advanced  from  the  ranks  with  his 
hat  off;  at  the  same  moment,  lieutenant 
count  D'Auteroche,  of  the  French  guards, 
advanced  also,  uncovered,  to  meet  him. 
Lord  Charles  bowed  :  —  "  Gentleman  of 
the  French  guards,"  said  he,  "fire!" 
The  count  bowed  to  lord  Charles.  "  No 
my  lord,"  he  answered,  "we  never  fire 
first  !"  They  again  bowed  ;  each  re- 
sumed his  place  in  his  own  ranks;  and 
after  these  testimonies  of  "  high  consider- 
ation," the  bloody  conflict  commenced, 
and  there  was  a  carnage  of  twelve  thou- 
sand men  on  each  side. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  50  •  57. 


New  Monthly  Magazine,  March,  1826. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY. 


MAY. 

Also,  in  calendars,  the  month  of  May 

Is  marked  the  month  of  Love — two  lovers  stray, 

In  the  old  wood-cuts,  in  a  forest  green, 
Looking  their  love  into  each  other's  eyes 
And' dreaming  happiness  that  never  dies  ; 

And  there  they  talk  unheard,  and  walk  unseen, 
Save  by  the  birds,  who  chant  a  louder  lay 
To  welcome  such  true  lovers  with  the  May.  * 

The  month  of  May  was  deemed  by  the  they  made  several  expiations,  they  pro- 
Romans  to  be  under  the  protection  of  hibited  marrying  in  May.  On  the  first 
Apollo  j  and  it  being  the  month  wherein  day  of  May  the  Roman  ladies  sacrificed  to 


569 


THE  E VERY-DAY.  BOOR.— MAY  1. 


570 


BonaDea,  the  Good  Goddess,  or  the  Earth,     '  The  world  is  too  much  with  us  ;  late  antf 


represented  in  the  Frontispiece  to  the 
first  volume  of  the  Every-Day  Book,  with 
the  zodiacal  signs  of  the  celestial  system, 
•which  influences  our  sphere  to  produce  its 
fruits  in  due  order. 


It  is  in  May  that  "  Spring  is  with  us 
once  more  pacing  the  earth  in  all  the 
primal  pomp  of  her  beauty,  with  flowers 
and  soft  airs  and  the  song  of  birds  every 
where  about  her,  and  the  blue  sky  and  the 
bright  clouds  above.  'But  there  is  one 
thing  wanting,  to  give  that  happy  com- 
pleteness to  her  advent,  which  belonged 
to  it  in  the  elder  times ;  and  without 
which  it  is  like  a  beautiful  melody  with- 
out words,  or  a  beautiful  flower  without 
scent,  or  a  beautiful  face  without  a  soul. 
The  voice  of  man  is  no  longer  heard,  hail- 
ing her  approach  as  she  hastens  to  bless 
him ;  and  his  choral  symphonies  no  longer 
meet  and  bless  her  in  return — bless  her 
by  letting  her  behold  and  hear  the  happi- 
ness that  she  comes  to  create.  The  soft 
songs  of  women  are  no  longer  blended 
with  her  breath  as  it  whispers  among  the 
new  leaves ;  their  slender  feet  no  longer 
trace  her  footsteps  in  the  fields  and  woods 
and  wayside  copses,  or  dance  delighted 
measures  round  the  flowery  offerings  that 
she  prompted  their  lovers  to  place  before 
them  on  the  village  green.  Even  the  lit- 
tle children  themselves,  that  have  an  in- 
stinct for  the  spring,  and  feel  it  to  the 
very  tips  of  their  fingers,  are  permitted  to 
iet  May  come  upon  them,  without  know- 
ing from  whence  the  impulse  of  happiness 
that  they  feel  proceeds,  or  whither  it  tends. 
In  short, 

'  All  the  earth  is  gay  ; 

Land  and  sea 

Give  themselves  up  to  jollity, 

And  with  the  heart  of  May  " 

Doth  every  beast  keep  holiday  :' 

while  man,  man  alone,  lets  the  season 
come  without  glorying  in  it ;  and  when  it 
goes  he  lets  it  go  without  regret ;  as  if 
'  all  seasons  and  their  change J  were 
alike  to  him ;  or  rather,  as  if  he  were  the 
\ord  of  all  seasons,  and  they  were  to  do 
Homage  and  honour  to  him,  instead  of  he 
to  them  !  How  is  this  ?  Is  it  that  we 
have  '  sold  our  birthright  for  a  mess  of 
pottage  ?' — that  we  have  bartered  '  our 
being's  end  and  aim'  for  a  .purse  of  gold  ? 
Alas  !  thus  it  -is  : 


Getting  and  spending,  we  lay  waste  oui 

powers : 

Little  we  see  in  nature  that  is  ours  ; 
We  have  given  our  hearts  away — a  sordid 
boon  ! 

— But  be  this  as  it  may,  we  are  still  able 
"to  feel  what  nature  is,  though  we  have  in  a 
great  measure  ceased  to  know  it;  though  we 
have  chosen  to  neglect  her  ordinances,  and 
absent  ourselves  from  her  presence,we  still 
retain  some  instinctive  reminiscences  of 
her  beauty  and  her  power ;  and  every  now 
and  then  the  sordid  walls  of  those  mud 
hovels  which  we  have  built  for  ourselves, 
and  choose  to  dwell  in,  fall  down  before 
the  magic  touch  of  our  involuntary  fan- 
cies, and  give  us  glimpses  into  "  that  im- 
perial palace  whence  we  came,"  and  make 
us-yearn  to  return  thither,  though  it  be  but 
in  thought. 

'  Then  sing  ye  birds,  sing,  sing  a  joyous 

song ! 

And  let  the  young  lambs  bound 
As  to  the  tabor's  sound  ! 
We  in  thought  will  join  your  throng, 
Ye  that  pipe  and  ye  that  play, 
Tfe  that  through  your  hearts  to-day 
Feel  the  gladness  of  the  MAY!'"* 


jWap  l< 

St.  Philip  and  St. 
MAYDAY. 

As  we  had  some  agreeable  intimacies 
to-day  last  year,  we  will  seek  our 
country  friends  in  other  rural  parts,  this 
"  May  morning,"  and  see  "  how  they  rfo." 

To  illustrate  the  custom  of  going  "a 
Maying,"  described  in  volume  i.,  a  song 
still  used  on  that  occasion  is  subjoined  : — 

THE  MAYER'S  CALL. 

Come,  lads,  with  your  bills, 

To  the  wood  we'll  away, 
We'll  gather  the  boughs, 

And  we'll  celebrate  May. 

We'll  bring  our  load  home, 
As  we've  oft  done  before, 
And  leave  a  green  bough, 

At  each  good  master's     ~)    door, 
good  neighbour's 
pretty  maid's 


*  Mirror  of  the  Months, 
t  See  yol.  i.  p.  541. 


571 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— MAY  1. 


572 


To-morrow,  when  work's  done, 

I  hold  it  no  wrong, 
If  we  go  round  in  ribands, 

And  sing  them  a  song. 

Come,  lads,  bring  your  hills, 

To  the  wood  we'll  away» 
We'll  gather  the  boughs, 

And  we'll  celebrate  May. 

There  is  a  rural  ditty  chanted  in  vil- 
lages and  country  towns,  preparatory  to 
gathering  the  May : — 

THE  MAY  EVE  SONG. 

If  we  should  wake  you  from  your 
sleep, 

Good  people  listen  now, 
Our  yearly  festival  we  keep, 

And  bring  a  Maythorn  bough. 

An  emblem  of  the  world  it  grows, 
The  flowers  its  pleasures  are, 

But  many  a  thorn  bespeaks  its  woes, 
Its  sorrow  and  its  care. 

Oh  !    sleep  you  then,  and  take  your 
rest, 

And,  when  the  day  shall  dawn, 
May  you  awake  in  all  things  blest — 

A  May  without  a  thorn. 

And  when,  to-morrow  we  shall  come 
Oh  !  treat  us  not  with  scorn  ; 

From  out  your  bounty  give  us  some — 
Be  May  without  a  thorn. 

May   He,  who  makes    the    May  to 
blow, 

On  earth  his  riches  sheds, 
Protect  thee  against  every  woe, 

Shower  blessings  on  thy  heads. 

After  "bringing  home  the  May," 
.here  is  another  lay  : — 

THE  MAYEK'S  SONG. 

On  the  Mayers  deign  to  smile, 
Master,  mistress,  hear  our  song, 

Listen  but  a  little  while, 

We  will  not  detain  you  long. 

Life  with  us  is  in  its  spring, 

We  enjoy  a  blooming  May, 
Summer  will  its  labour  bring, 

Wintsr  has  its  pinching  day. 

Yet  the  blessing  we  would  use 
Wisely — it  is  reason's  part. — 

Those  who  youth  and  health  abuse, 
Fail  not  in  the  end  to  smart. 

Mirth  we  love — the  proverb  says, 

Be  ye  merry  but  be  wise, 
We  will  walk  in  wisdom's  ways., 

There  alone  true  pleasure  lies. 


May,  that  now  is  in  its  bloom, 

All  so  fragrant  and  so  fair, 
When   autumn    and   when  winter 
come, 

Shall  its  useful  berries  bear. 

We  would  taste  your  home-brew'd 
beer, — 

Give  not,  if  we've  had  enough, — 
May  it  strengthen,  may  it  cheer, 

Waste  not  e'er  the  precious  stuif. 

We  of  money  something  crave, 
For  ourselves  we  ask  no  share, 

John  and  Jane  the  whole  shall  have, 
They're  the  last  new  married  pair. 

May  it  comfort  to  them  prove, 
And  a  blessing  bring  to  you ; 

Blessings  of  connubial  love, 
Light  on  all  like  morning  dew. 

So  shall  May,  with  blessings  crown'd, 
Welcom'd  be  by  old  and  young, 

Often  as  the  year  comes  round, 
Shall  the  May-day  song  be  sung. 

Fare  ye  well,  good  people  all, 
Sweet  to  night  may  be  your  rest, 

Every  biessing  you  befall, 
Blessing  others  you  are  blest. 

As  the  day  advances,  a  ballad  suitable 
to  the  "village  sports"  is  sung  by  him 
who  has  the  honour  to  crown  his  lass  as 
the  "  May-day  queen." — 

f  HR  WREATH  OF  MAY. 

This   slender    rod  of    leaves    and 
flowers, 

So  fragrant  and  so  gay, 
Produce  of  spring's   serener  hours, 

Peculiarly  is  May. 

This  slender  rod,  the  hawthorn  bears, 

And  when  its  bloom  is  o'er, 
Its  ruby  berries  then  it  wears, 

The  songster's  winter  store. 

Then,  though  it  charm  the  sight  and 

smell, 

In  spring's  delicious  hours, 
The  feather'd  choir  its  praise  shall 

tell, 
'Gainst  winter  round  us  lowers. 

O  then,  my  love,  from  me  receive, 
This  beauteous  hawthorn  spray, 

A  garland  for  thy  head  I'll  weave, 
Be  thou  my  queen  of  May. 

Love  and  fragrant  as  these  flowers, 
Live  pure  as  thou  wert  born, 

And    ne'er  may    sin's   destructive 

powers, 
Assail  thee  with  its  thorn. 


573 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


574 


One  more  ditty,  a  favourite  in  many 
parts  of  England,  is  homely,  but  there  is 
a  prettiness  in  its  description  that  may 
reconcile  it  to  the  admirers  of  a  "country 
life:"— 

THE  MAY  DAY  HERD. 

Now  at  length  'tis  May-day  morn, 
And  the  herdsman  Mows  his  horn  ; 
Green  with  grass  the  common  now, 
Herbage  bears  for  many  a  cow. 

Too  long  in  the  straw  yard  fed, 
Have  the  cattle  hung  their  head, 
And  the  milk  did  well  nigh  fail, 
The  milk-maid  in  her  ashen  pail. 

Well  the  men  have  done  their  job, 
Every  horn  has  got  its  knob  ; 
Nor  shall  they  each  other  gore, 
Not  a  bag,  or  hide,  be  tore. 

Yet  they  first  a  fight  maintain, 
Till  one  cow  the  mastery  gain  ; 
They,  like  man,  for  mastery  strive, 
They  by  others'  weakness  thrive. 

Drive  them  gently  o'er  the  lawn, 
Keep  them  from  the  growing  corn ; 
When  the  common  they  shall  gain, 
Let  them  spread  wide  o'er  the  plain. 

Show  them  to  the  reedy  pool, 
There  at  noon  their  sides  they'll  cool, 
And  with  a  wide  whisking  tail, 
Thrash  the  dies  as  with  a  flail. 

Bring  them  gently  home  at  eve, 
That  their  bags  they  may  relieve, 
And  themselves  of  care  divest, 
Chew  the  cud  and  take  their  rest. 

Now  the  dairy  maid  will  please, 
To  churn  her  butter,  set  her  cheese  ; 
We  shall  have  the  clotted  cream, 
The  tea-table's  delightful  theme. 

Raise  the  song,  then,  let  us  now, 
Sing  the  healthful,  useful  cow, 
England  well  the  blessing  knows, 
A  laud  with  milk  that  richly  flows. 


May-day  is  a  Spring  day. 

Spring — "  the  innocent  spring,"  is  the 
firstling  of  revolving  nature ;  and  in  the 
first  volume,  is  symbolized  by  an  infant. 
In  that  engraving  there  is  a  sort  of  appeal 
to  parental  feeling;  yet  an  address  more 
touching  to  the  heart  is  in  the  following 
little  poem : — 


A  Mother  to  her  First-born. 

Tis  sweet  to  watch  thee  in  thy  sleep, 

When  thou,  my  boy,  art  dreaming ; 

'Tis  sweet,  o'er  thee  a  watch  to  keep, 

To  mark  the  smile  that  seems  to  creep 

O'er  thee  like  daylight  gleaming. 

Tis  sweet  to  mark  thy  tranquil  breast, 

Heave  like  a  small  wave  flowing ; 
To  see  thee  take  thy  gentle  rest, 
With  nothing  save  fatigue  opprest, 
And  health  on  thy  cheek  glowing. 

To  see  thee  now,  or  when  awake, 

Sad  thoughts,  alas  !  steal  o'er  me  • 
For  thou,  in  time,  a  part  must  take, 
That  may  thy  fortunes  mar  or  make, 
In  the  wide  world  before  thee. 

But  I,  my  chiki,  have  hopes  of  thee, 
And  may  they  ne'er  be  blighted  ! — 

That  I,  years  hence,  may  live  to  see 

Thy  name  as  dear  to  all  as  me, 
Thy  virtues  well  requited. 

I'll  watch  thy  dawn  of  joys,  and  mould 

Thy  little  mind  to  duty — 
I'll  teach  thee  words,  as  I  behold 
Thy  faculties  like  flowers  unfold, 

In  intellectual  beauty. 

And  then,  perhaps,  when  I  am  dead, 
And  friends  around  me  weeping — 

Thoul't  see  me  to  my  grave,  and  shed 

A  tear  upon  my  narrow  bed, 
Where  I  shall  then  be  sleeping  ! 

BARTON  WILFORO. 


The  Maypole  nearest  to  the  metropo- 
lis, that  stood  the  longest  within  the 
recollection  of  the  editor,  was  near  Ken- 
nington-green,  at  the  back  of  the  houses, 
at  the  south  corner  of  the  Workhouse- 
lane,  leading  from  the  Vauxhall-road  to 
Elizabeth-place.  The  site  was  then 
nearly  vacant,  and  the  Maypole  was  in 
the  field  on  the  south  side  of  the  Woik- 
house-lane,  and  nearly  opposite  to  the 
Black  Prince  public-house.  It  remained 
till  about  the  year  1 795,  and  was  much 
frequented,  particularly  by  milk  maids. 

A  delightfully  pretty  print  of  a  merry- 
making "  round  about  the  Maypole"  sup- 
plies an  engraving  on  the  next  page  illus- 
trative of  the  prevailing  tendency  of  this 
work,  and  the  simplicity  of  rural  man- 
ners. It  is  not  so  sportive  as  the  dancings 
about  the  Maypoles  near  London  for- 
merly ;  there  is  nothing  of  the  boister 
ous  rudeness  which  must  be  well  remem 
bered  by  many  old  Londoners  on  May- 
day. 


67,5 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


576 


Cmmtrp  jMagpoIe. 

It  is  a  pleasant  sight,  to  see 

A  little  village  company 

Drawn  out  upon  the  first  of  May 

To  have  their  annual  holiday  : — 

The  pole  hung  round  with  garlands  gay ; 

The  young  ones  footing  it  away; 

The  aged  cheering  their  old  souls 

"With  recollections  and  their  bowls ; 

Or,  on  the  mirth  and  dancing  failing, 

Their  oft-times-told  old  tales  re-taleing. 


The  innocent  and  the  unaspiring  may 
always  be  happy.  Their  pleasures  like 
their  knitting  needles,  and  hedging 
gloves,  are  easily  purchased,  and  when 
bestowed  are  estimated  as  distinctions. 
The  late  Dr.Parr,the  fascinating  converser, 
the  skilful  controverter,  the  first  Greek 
scholar,  and  one  of  the  greatest  and  most 
nfluential  men  of  the  age,  was  a  patron 
of  May-day  sports.  Opposite  his  par- 
sonage-house at  Hatton,  near  Warwick, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  road,  stood  tta 
parish  Maypole,  which  on  the  annual 


festival  was  dressed  with  garlands,  sur- 
rounded by  a  numerous  band  c<  villagers. 
The  doctor  was  "  first  of  tht  throng," 
and  danced  with  his  parishioners  the 
gayest  of  the  gay.  He  kept  the  large 
crown  of  the  Maypole  in  a  closet  of  his 
house,  from  whence  it  was  produced 
every  May-day,  with  fresh  flowers  and 
streamers  preparatory  to  its  elevation, 
and  to  the  doctor's  own  appearance 
in  the  ring.  He  always  spoke  of  this 
festivity  as  one  wherein  he  joined  with 
peculiar  delight  to  ikiniseif.  and  advantage 


577 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  l. 


578 


to  his  neighbours.  He  was  deemed  ec- 
centric, and  so  he  was  ;  for  he  was  never 
proud  to  the  humble,  nor  humble  to  the 
proud.  His  eloquence  and  wit  elevated 
humility,  and  crushed  insolence  ;  he  was 
the  champion  of  the  oppressed,  a  foe  to 
the  oppressor,  a  friend  to  the  friendless, 
and  a  brother  to  him  who  was  ready  to 
perish.  Though  a  prebend  of  the  church 
with  university  honours,  he  could  afford 
to  make  his  parishoners  happy  without 
derogating  from  his  ecclesiastical  dig- 
nities, or  abatement  of  self-respect,  or 
lowering  himself  in  the  eyes  of  any  who 
were  not  inferior  in  judgment,  to  the 
most  inferior  of  the  villagers  of  Hatton. 


Formerly  a  pleasant  character  dressed 
out  with  ribands  and  flowers,  figured 
in  village  May-games  under  the  name  of 


JACK-O'-THE-GREEN. 

The  Jack-o'-the-Greens  would  some- 
times come  into  the  suburbs  of  London, 
and  amuse  the  residents  by  rustic  danc- 
ing. The  last  of  them,  that  I  remember, 
were  at  the  Paddington  May-dance,  near 
the  "Yorkshire  Stingo,"  about  twenty 
years  ago,  from  whence,  as  I  heard,  they 
diverged  to  Bayswater,  Kentish-town,  and 
adjoining  neighbourhoods.  A  Jack-o'- 
the-Green  always  carried  a  long  walking 
stick  with  floral  wreaths ;  he  whisked  it 
about  in  the  dance,  and  afterwards  walked 
with  it  in  high  estate  like  a  lord  mayor's 
footman. 


On  this  first  of  the  month  we  cannot 
pass  the  poets  without  listening  to  their 
carols,  as  we  do,  in  our  walks,  to  the 
sones  of  the  spring  birds  in  their  thickets. 

VOL  II.— 71. 


To  MAY. 

Welcome  !  dawn  of  summer's  day, 
Youthful,  verdant,  balmy  May  ! 
Sunny  fields  and  shady  bowers, 
Spangled  meads  and  blooming  flowers, 
Crystal  fountains — limpid  streams, 
Where  the  sun  of  nature  beams, 
As  the  sigh  of  morn  reposes, 
Sweetly  on  its  bed  of  roses  ! 
Welcome  !  scenes  of  fond  delight, 
Welcome  !  eyes  with  rapture  bright — 
Maidens'  sighs — and  lovers'  vows — 
Fluttering  hearts — and  open  brows  ! 
And  welcome  all  that's  bright  and  gay, 
To  hail  the  balmy  dawn  of  May  !„ 

J.  L.  Stevens. 


The  most  ancient  of  our  bards  makes 
noble  melody  in  this  glorious  month. 
Mr.  Leigh  Hunt  selects  a  delightful  pas- 
sage from  Chaucer,  and  compares  it  with 
Dryden's  paraphrase : — 

It  is  sparkling  with  young  manhood 
and  a  gentle  freshness.  What  a  burst  of 
radiant  joy  is  in  the  second  couplet ; 
what  a  vital  quickness  in  the  comparison 
of  the  horse,  "  starting  as  the  fire ;"  and 
what  a  native  and  happy  case  in  the 
conclusion ! 

The  busy  lark,  the  messenger  of  day, 
Saleweth*  in  her  song  the  morrow  gray ; 
And  fiery  Phoebus  riseth  up  so  bright, 
That  all  the  orient  laugheth  of  the  sight ; 
And  with  his  stremes  drieth  in  the  grevesf 
The  silver  droppfcs  hanging  in  the  leaves ; 
And  Arcite,  that  is  in  the  court  realj 
With  Theseus  the  squier  principal, 
Is  risen,  and  looketh  on  the  merry  day  ; 
And  for  to  do  his  observance  to  May, 
Remembring  on  the  point  of  his  desire, 
He  on  the  courser,  starting  as  the  fire; 
Is  risen  to  the  fieldes  him  to  play, 
Out  of  the  court,  were  it  a  mile  or  tway  . 
And  to  the  grove,  of  which  that  I  you  told, 
By  aventure  his  way  he  gan  to  hold, 
To  inaken  him  a  garland  of  the  greves, 
Were  it  of  woodbind  or  of  hawthorn  leaves, 
And  loud  he  sung  against  the  sunny  sheen  : 
"  O  May,  with  all  thy  flowers  and  thy  green, 
Right  welcome  be  thou,  faire  freslie  May : 
I  hope  that  I  some  green  here  getten  may." 
And  from  his  courser,  with  a  lusty  heart, 
Into  the  grove  full  hastily  he  start, 
And  in  a  path  he  roamed  up  and  down. 

Dryden  falls  short  in  the  freshness  and 
feeling  of  the  sentiment.  His  lines  are 
beautiful ;  but  they  do  not  come  home 
to  us  with  so  happy  and  cordial  a  face. 


*  Saluteth. 


t  Groves. 


Royal. 


579  THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— MAY  1.  58* 

Here  they  are.     The  word  morning  in     second,  we  are  bound  to  consider  as  a 
the  first   line,  as   it  is   repeated  in  the     slip  of  the  pen ;  perhaps  for  mounting. 

The  morning-lark,  the  messenger  of  day, 

Saluteth  in  her  song  the  morning  gray ; 

And  soon  the  sun  arose  with  beams  so  bright, 

That  all  the  horizon  laughed  to  see  the  joyous  sight 

He  with  his  tepid  rays  the  rose  renews, 

And  licks  the  drooping  leaves,  and  dries  the  dews  ; 

When  Arcite  left  his  bed,  resolv'd  to  pay 

Observance  to  the  month  of  merry  May  : 

Forth  on  his  fiery  steed  betimes  he  rode, 

That  scarcely  prints  the  turf  on  which  he  trod  : 

At  ease  he  seemed,  and  prancing  o'er  the  plains, 

Turned  only  to  the  grove  his  horses'  reins, 

The  grove  I  named  before  ;  and,  lighted  there, 

A  woodbine  garland  sought  to  crown  his  hair 

Then  turned  his  face  against  the  rising  day, 

And  raised  his  voice  to  welcome  in  the  May 

"  For  thee,  sweet  month,  the  groves  green  liveries  wear, 

If  not  the  first,  the  fairest  of  the  year  : 

For  thee  the  Graces  lead  the  dancing  hours, 

And  Nature's  ready  pencil  paints  the  flowers  : 

When  thy  short  reign  is  past,  the  feverish  sun 

The  sultry  tropic  fears,  and  moves  more  slowly  on. 

So  may  thy  tender  blossoms  fear  no  blight, 

Nor  goats  with  venom' d  teeth  thy  tendrils  bite, 

As  thou  shalt  guide  my  wandering  steps  to  find 

The  fragrant  greens  I  seek,  my  brows  to  bind." 

His  vows  address'd,  within  the  grove  he  stray' d. 

"  How  poor,"  says  Mr.  Hunt,  "  is  this  at   St.  James's,   and   one   of  Chaucer's 

to  Arcite's  leaping  from  his  courser  l  with  lounges  on  the  grass,  of  a  May  morning, 

a  lusty  heart.'    How  inferior  the  common-  All  this  worship  of  May  is  over  now. 

place  of  the  '  fiery  steed,'  which  need  not  There  is  no  issuing  forth  in  glad  compa- 

involve  any  actual  notion  in  the  writer's  nies  to  gather  boughs ;   no  adorning  of 

mind,   to   the   courser   l  starting   as  the  houses   with    '  the   flowery   spoil ;'    no 

fire ;' — how  inferior  the  turning  his  face  songs,  no  dances,  no  village  sports  and 

to   '  the   rising   day,'   and   '  raising  his  coronations,  no  courtly-poetries,  no  sense 

voice/  to  the  singing  '  loud  against  the  and  acknowledgment  of   the  quiet  pre- 

sunny    sheen  ;'   and    lastly,    the    whole  sence  of  nature,  in  grove  or  glade. 
learned  invocation  and  adjuration  of  May, 

about  guiding  his  l  wandering  steps'  and  O  dolce  primavera,  o  fior  novelli, 

'  so  may  thy  tender  blossoms'  &c.  to  the  °  aure  °  arboscelli,  o  fresche  erbette, 

call  upon  the  fair  fresh  May,  ending  with  °  Pia^e  henedette,  o  colli  o  monti, 

that  simple,  quick-hearted  line,  in  which  °  yalli°  finm!  °f°ntl  ?  Verde  " ^ 

he  hopes  he  shall  get  «  some  green  here ;'  ™™^™  ed  ohve  edere  e  mirU ; 

atoucPh  in  the  happiest  taste  £  the  Italian  °  g^^Mo^  linfe, 

vivacity.     Dryden's  genius,  for  the  most  o  faretrate  ninfe  o  agresti  Pani, 

part,  wanted  faith  in  nature.     It  was  too  Q  Satiri  e  Silvani,  o  Fauni  e  Driadi, 

gross   and  sophisticate.      There  was  as  Naiadi  ed  Amadriadi,  o  Semidee, 

much   difference  between   him   and  his  Oreadi  e  Napee, — or  siete  sole. 

original,  as  between  a  hot  noon  in  perukes  Sannazze.t<. 

O  thou  delicious  spring,  O  ye  new  flowers, 

O  airs,  O  youngling  bowers ;  fresh  thickening  grass, 

And  plains  beneath  heaven's  face  ;  O  hills  and  mountains, 

Vallies,  and  streams,  and  fountains  ;  banks  of  green, 

Myrtles,  and  palms  serene,  ivies,  and  bays ; 

And  ye  who  warmed  old  lays,  spirits  o'  the  woods, 

Echoes,  and  solitu<J*s,  and  lakes  of  light ; 


A81 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


>82 


O  quivered  virgins  bright,  Pans  rustical, 
Satyrs  and  Sylvans  all,  Dryads,  and  ye 
That  up  the  mountains  be  ;  and  ye  beneath 
In  meadow  or  flowery  heath, — ye  are  alone. 


"  This  time  two  hundred  years  ago, 
our  ancestors  were  all  anticipating  their 
May  holidays.  Bigotry  came  in,  and 
frowned  them  away  ;  then  debauchery, 
and  identified  all  pleasure  with  the  town ; 
then  avarice,  and  we  have  ever  since 
been  mistaking  the  means  for  the  end. — 
Fortunately,  it  does  not  follow,  that  we 
shall  continue  to  do  so.  Commerce, 
while  it  thinks  it  is  only  exchanging  com- 
modities, is  helping  to  diffuse  knowledge. 
All  other  gains, — all  selfish  and  extrava- 
gant systems  of  acquisition, — tend  to 
over-do  themselves,  and  to  topple  down 
by  their  own  undiffused  magnitude.  The 
world,  as  it  learns  other  things,  may  learn 
not  to  confound  the  means  with  the  end, 
or  at  least,  (to  speak  more  philosophically,) 
a  really  poor  means  with  a  really  richer. 
The  veriest  cricket-player  on  a  green  has 
as  sufficient  a  quantity  of  excitement,  as 
a  fundholder  or  a  partizan ;  and  health, 
and  spirits,  and  manliness  to  boot. 
Knowledge  may  go  on  ;  must  do  so,  from 
necessity  ;  and  should  do  so,  for  the  ends 
we  speak  of:  but  knowledge,  so  far  from 
being  incompatible  with  simplicity  of 
pleasures,  is  the  quickest  to  perceive  its 
wealth.  Chaucer  would  lie  for  hours 
looking  at  the  daisies.  Scipio  and  Laelius 
could  amuse  themselves  with  making 
ducks  and  drakes  on  the  water.  Epami- 
nondas,  the  greatest  of  all  the  active  spi- 
rits of  Greece,  was  a  flute-player  and 
dancer.  Alfred  the  Great  could  act  the 
whole  part  of  a  minstrel.  Epicurus 
taught  the  riches  of  temperance  and  in- 
tellectual pleasure  in  a  garden.  The 
other  philosophers  of  his  country  walked 
between  heaven  and  earth  in  the  collo- 
quial bowers  of  Academus ;  and  '  the 
wisest  heart  of  Solomon,'  who  found  every 
thing  vain  because  he  was  a  king,  has 
left  us  panegyrics  on  the  spring  and  '  the 
voice  of  the  turtle/  because  he  was  a 
poet,  a  lover,  and  a  wise  man."* 

Aubrey  remarks,  that  he  never  remem- 
bers to  have  seen  a  Maypole  in  France  ; 
but  he  says,  "  in  Holland,  they  have  their 
May-booms,  which  are  streight  young 
trees,  set  up  ;  and  at  Woodstock,  in  Oxon, 
they  every  May-eve  goe  into  the  parke, 

*  The  Indicator. 


and  fetch  away  a  number  of  hawthorne- 
trees,  which  they  set  before  their  dores : 
'tis  pity  that  they  make  such  a  destruc- 
tion of  so  fine  a  tree." 


As  the  old  antiquary  takes  us  to  Wood* 
stock,  and  a  novel  by  the  "  Great  Un- 
known," bears  that  title,  we  will  "  inn" 
there  awhile,  agreeably  to  an  invitation 
of  u  correspondent  who  signs  nj/w^iAraroy, 
and  who  promises  entertainment  to  the 
readers  of  the  Every- Day  Book,  from  an 
account  of  some  out-of-the-way  doings  at 
that  place,  when  there  were  out-of-the- 
way  doings  every  where.  Our  friend 
with  the  Greek  name  is  critical ;  for  as 
regards  the  "  new  novel,"  he  says,  that 
"  Woodstock  would  have  been  much 
better  if  the  author  had  placed  the  inci- 
dents before  the  battle  of  Worcester,  and 
supposed  that  Charles  had  been  drawn 
over  to  England  to  engage  in  some  plot  of 
Dr.  Rochecliffes,  which  had  proved  un- 
successful. This  might  have  spared  him 
one  great  anachronism,  (placing  the 
pranks  of  the  merry  devil  of  Woodstock 
in  1651,  instead  of  1649,)  at  the  same 
time  that  it  would  throw  a  greater  air  of 
probability  over  the  story ;  for  the  reader 
who  is  at  all  acquainted  with  English 
history,  continually  feels  his  pleasure  de- 
stroyed by  the  recollection  that  in  Charles's 
escapes  after  the  battle  of  Worcester,  he 
never  once  visited  Woodstock.  Nor  does 
the  merry  devil  of  Woodstock  excite  half 
the  interest,  or  give  us  half  the  amuse- 
ment he  would  have  done,  if  the  author 
had  lately  read  the  narrative  I  am  now 
about  to  copy.  He  seems  to  have  perused 
it  at  some  distance  of  time,  and  then  to 
have  written  the  novel  with  imperfect  re- 
collection of  the  circumstances. — But  let 
me  begin  my  story ;  to  wit,  an  article  in 
the4 British  Magazine'  for  April,  1747, 
which  will  I  suppose  excite  some  curiosity, 
and  is  in  the  following  words  : — 

"  THE  GENUINE  HISTORY 

of  the 
"  GOOD  DEVIL  OF  WOODSTOCK, 

"  Famous  in  the  world  in  the  year  1649 
and  never  accounted  for,  or  at  all  under- 
stood to  this  time" 

The  teller  of  this  "  Genuine  History" 
proceeds  as  hereafter  verbatim. 


583 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


584 


Some  original  papers  having  lately 
fallen  into  my  hands  under  the  name  of 
"  Authentic  Memoirs  of  the  Memorable 
Joseph  Collins  of  Oxford,  commonly 
known  by  the  name  of  Funny  Joe,  and 
now  intended  for  the  press,"  I  was  ex- 
tremely delighted  to  find  in  them  a  cir- 
cumstantial and  unquestionable  account 
of  the  most  famous  of  all  invisible  agents, 
so  well  known  in  the  year  1649,  under  the 
name  of  the  good  devil  of  Woodstock, 
and  even  adored  by  the  people  of  that 
place  for  the  vexation  and  distress  it  oc- 
casioned some  people  they  were  not 
much  pleased  with.  As  this  famous 
story,  though  related  by  a  thousand  people, 
and  attested  in  all  its  circumstances  be- 
yond all  possibility  of  doubt  by  people  of 
rank,  learning,  and  reputation,  of  Oxford 
and  the  adjacent  towns,  has  never  yet 
been  accounted  for  or  at  all  understood, 
and  is  perfectly  explained  in  a  manner 
that  can  admit  of  no  doubt  in  these 
papers,  I  could  not  refuse  my  readers 
their  share  of  the  pleasure  it  gave  me  in 
reading 

As  the  facts  themselves  were  at  that 
time  so  well  known  that  it  would  have 
been  tedious  to  enumerate  them,  they  are 
not  mentioned  in  these  papers ;  but  that 
our  readers  may  have  a  perfect  account  of 
the  whole  transaction,  as  well  as  the  secret 
history  of  it,  I  shall  prefix  a  written  ac- 
count of  it,  drawn  up  and  signed  by  the 
commissioners  themselves,  who  were  the 
people  concerned,  and  which  I  believe 
never  was  published,  though  it  agrees  very 
•well  with  the  accounts  Dr.  Plot  and  other 
authors  of  credit  give  of  the  whole  affair. 
This  I  found  affixed  to  the  author's  memo- 
rial, with  this  title  : — 

"  A  particular  account  of  the  strange 
and  surprising  apparitions  and  works 
of  spirits,  which  happened  at  Woodstock, 
in  Oxfordshire,  in  the  months  of  October 
and  November,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord 
Christ  1649,  when  the  honourable  the 
commissioners  for  surveying  the  said 
manor-house,  park,  woods,  and  other 
demesnes  belonging  to  that  manor,  sat 
and  remained  there.  Collected  and  attested 
by  themselves.. 

"  The  honourable  the  commissioners 
arrived  at  Woodstock  manor-house,  Oc- 
tober 1 3th,  and  took  up  their  residence  in 
the  king's  own  rooms.  His  majesty's  bed- 
chamber they  made  their  kitchen,  the 
council  hall  their  pantry,  and  the  presence 
chamber  was  the  place  where  they  sat  for 
despatch  of  business.  His  majesty's  dining- 


room  they  made  their  wood  yard,  and 
stowed  it  with  no  other  wood  but  that  of 
the  famous  royal  oak*  from  the  high  park, 
which,  that  nothing  might  be  left  with  the 
name  of  the  king  about  it,  they  had  dug 
up  by  the  roots,  and  bundled  up  into 
faggots  for  their  firing. 

"  October  16.  This  day  they  first  sat 
for  the  despatch  of  business.  In  the 
midst  of  their  first  debate  there  entered  a 
large  black  dog  (as  they  thought)  which 
made  a  terrible  howling,  overturned  two 
or  three  of  their  chairs,  and  doing  some 
other  damage,  went  under  the.  bed,  and 
there  gnawed  the  cords.  The  door  this 
while  continued  constantly  shut,  when 
after  some  two  or  three  hours,  Giles 
Sharp,  their  secretary,  looking  under  the 
bed,  perceived  that  the  creature  was 
vanished,  and  that  a  plate  of  meat  which 
one  of  the  servants  had  hid  there  was 
untouched,  and  showing  them  to  their 
honours,  they  were  all  convinced  there 
could  be  no  real  dog  concerned  in  the 
case;  the  said  Giles  also  deposed  on  oath 
that  to  his  certain  knowledge  there  was 
not. 

"  October  17.  As  they  were  this  day 
sitting  at  dinner  in  a  lower  room,  they 
heard  plainly  the  noise  of  persons  walk- 
ing over  their  heads,  though  they  well 
knew  the  doors  were  all  locked,  and  there 
could  be  none  there  ;  presently  after  they 
heard  also  all  the  wood  of  the  king's  oak 
brought  by  parcels  from  the  dining-room, 
and  thrown  with  great  violence  into  the 
presence  chamber,  as  also  the  chairs, 
stools,  tables,  and  other  furniture,  forcibly 
hurled  about  the  room,  their  own  papers 
of  the  minutes  of  their  transactions  torn, 
and  the  ink-glass  broken.  When  all 
this  had  some  time  ceased,  the  said  Giles 
proposed  to  enter  first  into  these  rooms, 
and  in  presence  of  the  commissioners 
of  whom  he  received  the  key,  he  opened 
the  door,  and  entering  with  their  honours 
following  him,  he  there  found  the  wood 
strewed  about  the  room,  the  chairs  tossed 
about  and  broken,  the  papers  torn,  and 
the  ink-glass  broken  over  them,  all  as 
they  had  heard,  yet  no  footsteps  appear- 
ed of  any  person  whatever  being  there, 
nor  had  the  doors  ever  been  opened  to 
admit  or  let  out  any  persons  since  their 
honours  were  last  there.  It  was  therefore 


*  This  is  not  king  Charles  the  Second's  cele- 
brated "  Royal  Oak,"  but  the  "  King's  Oak"  so 
often  mentioned  in  the  novel.  Tft  make  it  stand 
ing  in  ]651  is  another  anachronism  by  the  by. 
Civ  <a<pl\TaTos. 


5H5 


THE  EVERY- DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


586 


voted  nem.  con.  that  the  person  who  did 
this  mischief  could  have  entered  no  other 
way  than  at  the  keyhole  of  the  said  doors. 

"  In  the  night  following  this  same  day, 
the  said  Giles  and  two  other  of  the  com- 
missioners' servants,  a^  they  were  in  bed 
at  the  same  room  with  their  honours,  had 
their  bed's  feet  lifted  up  so  much  higher 
than  their  heads,  that  they  expected  to 
have  their  necks  broken,  and  then  they 
were  let  fall  at  once  with  such  violence  as 
shook  them  up  from  the  bed  to  a  good 
distance ;  and  this  was  repeated  many 
times,  their  honours  being  amazed  spec- 
tators of  it.  In  the  morning  the  bed- 
steads were  found  cracked  and  broken,  and 
the  said  Giles,  and  his  fellows,  declared 
they  were  sore  to  the  bones  with  the  toss- 
ing and  jolting  of  the  beds. 

"  October  19.  As  they  were  all  in  bed 
together,  the  candles  were  blown  out  with 
a  sulphurous  smell,  and  instantly  many 
trenchers  of  wood  were  hurled  about  the 
room,  and  one  of  them  putting  his  head 
above  the  clothes,  had  not  less  than  six 
forcibly  thrown  at  him,  which  wounded 
him  very  grievously.  In  the  morning  the 
trenchers  were  all  found  lying  about  the 
room,  and  were  observed  to  be  the  same 
they  had  eaten  on  the  day  before,  none 
being  found  remaining  in  the  pantry. 

"  October  20.  This  night  the  candles 
were  put  out  as  before,  the  curtains  of  the 
bed  in  which  their  honours  lay,  were 
drawn  to  and  fro  many  times  with  great 
violence ;  their  honours  received  many 
cruel  blows,  and  were  much  bruised  be- 
side with  eight  great  pewter  dishes,  and 
three  dozen  wooden  trenchers  which  were 
thrown  on  the  bed,  and  afterwards  heard 
rolling  about  the  room. 

"  Many  times  also  this  night  they  heard 
the  forcible  falling  of  many  faggots  by 
their  bed  side,  but  in  the  morning  no 
faggots  were  found  there,  no  dishes  or 
trenchers  were  there  seen  neither,  and  the 
aforesaid  Giles  attests  that  by  their  dif- 
ferent arranging  in  the  pantry,  they  had 
assuredly  been  taken  thence  and  after 
put  there  again. 

"  October  21.  The  keeper  of  their  or- 
dinary and  his  bitch  lay  with  them;  this 
night  they  had  no  disturbance. 

"  October  22.  Candles  put  out  as  be- 
fore. They  had  the  said  bitch  with  them 
again,  but  were  not  by  that  protected  ;  the 
bitch  set  up  a  very  piteous  cry,  the  clothes 
of  their  beds  were  all  pulled  off,  and  the 
bricks,  without  any  wind,  were  thrown  off 
the  chimney  tops  into  the  midst. 


"  October  24.  The  candles  put  out  as 
before.  They  thought  all  the  wood  of  the 
king's  oak  was  violently  thrown  down  by 
their  bedsides  ;  they  counted  sixty-four  fag, 
gots  that  fell  with  great  violence,  and 
some  hit  and  shook  the  bed,  but  in  the 
morning  none  were  found  there,  nor  the 
door  of  the  room  opened  in  which  the 
said  faggots  were. 

"  October  25.  The  candles  put  out  as 
before.  The  curtains  of  the  bed  in  the 
drawing-room  were  forcibly  drawn  many 
times ;  the  wood  thrown  out  as  before  ; 
a  terrible  crack  like  thunder  was  heard, 
and  one  of  the  servants  running  to  see  if 
his  masters  were  not  killed,  found  at 
his  return  three  dozen  of  trenchers  laid 
smoothly  upon  his  bed  under  the  quilt. 

"  October  26.  The  beds  were  shaken 
as  before,  the  windows  seemed  all  broken 
to  pieces,  and  the  glass  fell  in  vast  quan- 
tities all  about  the  room.  In  the  morn- 
ing they  found  the  windows  all  whole, 
but  the  floor  strewed  with  broken  glass, 
which  they  gathered  and  laid  by. 

"  October  29.*  At  midnight,  candles 
went  out  as  before ;  something  walked 
majestically  through  the  room  and  opened 
and  shut  the  window ;  great  stones  were 
thrown  violently  into  the  room,  some 
whereof  fell  on  the  beds,  others  on  the 
floor ;  and  at  about  a  quarter  after  one  a 
noise  was  heard  as  of  forty  cannon  dis- 
charged together,  and  again  repeated  at 
about  eight  minutes  distance.  This 
alarmed  and  raised  all  the  neighbourhood, 
who  coming  into  their  honours'  room 
gathered  up  the  great  stones,  fourscore  in 
number,  many  of  them  like  common  peb- 
bles and  boulters,  and  laid  them  by  where 
they  are  to  be  seen  to  this  day  at  a  corner 
of  the  adjoining  field.  This  noise,  like  the 
discharge  of  cannon,  was  heard  through- 
out the  country  for  sixteen  miles  round. 
During  these  noises,  which  were  heard  in 
both  rooms  together,  both  the  commis- 
sioners and  their  servants  gave  one  ano- 
ther over  for  lost  and  cried  out  for  help, 
and  Giles  Sharp  snatching  up  a  sword  had 
well  nigh  killed  one  of  their  honours, 
taking  him  for  the  spirit  as  he  came  in  his 
shirt  into  the  room.  While  they  were  to- 
gether the  noise  was  continued,  and  part 
of  the  tiling  of  the  house  and  all  the  win- 
dows of  an  upper  room  were  taken  away 
with  it. 


*  Sic    in    orig.      Why    the    other   two    days 
are  passed    over    so    silently   I    know    not.— 


687 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1 


588 


"  October  30.  At  midnight,  something 
walked  into  the  chamber  treading  like  a 
bear :  it  walked  many  times  about,  then 
threw  the  warming-pan  violently  on  the 
floor,  and  so  bruised  it  that  it  was  spoiled. 
Vast  quantities  of  glass  were  now  thrown 
about  the  room,  and  vast  numbers  of  great 
stones  and  horses'  bones  thrown  in ;  these 
were  all  found  in  the  morning,  and  the 
floor,  beds,  and  walls,  were  all  much 
damaged  by  the  violence  they  were  thrown 
in. 

"  November  1.  Candles  were  placed  in 
all  parts  of  the  room,  and  a  great  fire 
made ;  at  midnight,  the  candles  all  yet 
burning,  a  noise  like  the  burst  of  a  cannon 
was  heard  in  the  room,  and  the  burning 
billets  were  tossed  all  over  the  room  and 
about  the  beds,  that  had  not  their  honours 
called  in  Giles  and  his  fellows,  the  house 
had  been  assuredly  burnt ;  an  hour  after 
the  candles  went  out  as  usual,  the  crack 
of  many  cannon  was  heard,  and  many 
pails  full  of  green  stinking  water  were 
thrown  on  their  honours  in  bed ;  great 
stones  were  also  thrown  in  as  before,  the 
bed  curtains  and  bedsteads  torn  and  bro- 
ken :  the  windows  were  now  all  really 
broken,  and  the  whole  neighbourhood 
alarmed  with  the  noises ;  nay,'  the  very 
rabbit-stealers  that  were  abroad  that  night 
in  the  warren,  were  so  frightened  at  the 
dismal  thundering,  that  they  fled  for  fear, 
and  left  their  ferrets  behind  them. 

"  One  of  their  honours  this  night  spoke, 
and  in  the  name  of  God  asked  what  it  was 
and  why  it  disturbed  them  so.  No  an- 
swer was  given  to  this,  but  the  noise  ceased 
for  a  while,  when  the  spirit  came  again, 
and  as  they  all  agreed  brought  with  it 
seven  devils  worse  than  itself.  One  of 
the  servants  now  lighted  a  large  candle, 
and  set  it  in  the  doorway  between  the 
two  chambers,  to  see  what  passed,  and  as 
he  watched  it  he  plainly  saw  a  hoof  strik- 
ing the  candle  and  candlestick  into  the 
middle  of  the  room,  and  afterwards  mak- 
ing three  scrapes  over  the  snuff  of  the 
candle  to  scrape  it  out.  Upon  this,  the 
same  person  was  so  bold  as  to  draw  a 
sword  ;  but  he  had  scarce  got  it  out  when 
he  perceived  another  invisible  hand  had 
hold  of  it  too,  and  pulled  with  him  for  it, 
and  at  length  prevailing,  struck  him  so 
violently  on  the  head  with  the  pummel, 
that  he  fell  down  for  dead  with  the  blow. 
At  this  instant  was  heard  another  burst 
like  the  discharge  of  a  broadside  of  a  ship 
of  war,  and  at  about  a  minute  or  two's 
distance  each,  no  less  than  nineteen  more 


such ;  these  shook  the  house  so  violently 
that  they  expected  every  moment  it  would 
fall  upon  their  heads.  The  neighbours  on 
this  were  all  alarmed,  and  running  to  the 
house,  they  all  joined  in  prayers  and 
psalm-singing,  during  which  the  noise 
still  continued  in  the  other  rooms,  and  the 
discharge  of  cannon  without  though  no 
one  was  there." 

Dr.  Plot  concludes  his  relation  of  this 
memorable  event  with  observing,  that 
though  tricks  have  been  often  played  in 
affairs  of  this  kind,  many  of  these  things 
are  not  reconcileable  to  juggling ;  such 
as — 1 .  The  loud  noises  beyond  the  power 
of  man  to  make  without  such  instruments 
as  were  not  there.  2.  The  tearing  and 
breaking  the  beds.  3.  The  throwing  about 
the  fire.  4.  The  hoof  treading  out  the 
candle ;  and,  5.  The  striving  for  the  sword, 
and  the  blow  the  man  received  from  the 
pummel  of  it. 

To  see,  however,  how  great  men  are 
sometimes  deceived,  we  may  recur  to  this 
one  tract,  where  among  other  things  there 
is  one  entitled  "  The  secret  history  of  the 
good  devil  of  Woodstock?'  in  which  we 
rind  it  under  the  author's  own  hand,  that 
he,  Joseph  Collins,  commonly  called  funny 
Joe,  was  himself  this  very  devil ;  that  he 
hired  himself  as  a  servant  to  the  commis- 
sioners under  the  feigned  name  of  Giles 
Sharp,  and  by  the  help  of  two  friends,  an 
unknown  trap-door  in  the  ceiling  of  the 
bedchamber,  and  a  pound  of  common 
gunpowder,  played  all  these  amazing 
tricks  by  himself,  and  his  fellow  servants, 
whom  he  had  introduced  on  purpose  to 
assist  him,  had  lifted  up  their  own  beds. 

The  candles  were  contrived  by  a  com- 
mon trick  of  gunpowder  put  in  them,  to 
put  themselves  out  by  a  certain  time. 

The  dog  who  began  the  farce  was,  as  he 
swore,  no  dog,  but  truly  a  bitch  who  had 
the  day  before  whelped  in  that  room  and 
made  all  this  disturbance  in  seeking  for 
her  puppies ;  and  which  when  she  had 
served  his  purpose,  he  let  out  and  then 
looked  for.  The  story  of  the  hoof  and 
sword  himself  alone  was  witness  to,  and 
was  never  suspected  as  to  the  truth  of 
them  though  mere  fictions.  By  the  trap- 
door his  friends  let  down  stones,  faggots, 
glass,water,  &c.which  they  either  left  there 
or  drew  up  again  as  best  suited  with  him ; 
and  by  this  way  let  themselves  in  and  out 
without  opening  the  doors  and  going 
through  the  key-holes ;  and  all  the  noises 
he  declares  he  made  by  placing  quanti- 
ties of  white  gunpowder  over  pieces  o» 


589 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


590 


burning  charcoal  on  plates  of  tin,  which 
as  they  melted  went  off  with  that  violent 
explosion. 

One  thing  there  was  beyond  all  these 
he  tells  us,  which  was  also  what  drove 
them  from  the  house  in  reality,  though 
they  never  owned  it.  This  was  they  had 
formed  a  reserve  of  part  of  the  premises 
to  themselves,  and  hid  their  mutual  agree- 
ment, which  they  had  drawn  up  in  writ- 
ing, under  the  earth  in  a  pot  in  a  corner 
of  the  room  in  which  they  usually  dined, 
in  which  an  orange  tree  grew  :  when  in 
Jhe  midst  of  their  dinner  one  day  this 
earth  of  itself  took  fire  and  burned  vio- 
lently with  a  blue  flame,  filling  the  room 
with  a  strong  sulphurous  stench ;  and  this 
he  also  professes  was  his  own  doing,  by  a 
secret  mixture  he  had  placed  there  the 
day  before. 

I  am  very  happy  in  having  an  oppor- 
tunity of  setting  history  right  about  these 
.-ernarkable  events  ;  and  would  not  have 
the  reader  disbelieve  my  author's  account 
of  them,  from  his  naming  either  .white 
gunpowder  going  off  when  melted,  or  his 
making  the  earth  about  the  pot  take  fire 
of  its  own  accord ;  since,  however  impro- 
ba  ole  these  accounts  may  appear  to  some 


readers,  and  whatever  secrets  they  might 
be  in  Joe's  time,  they  are  well  known  now 
in  chemistry.  As  to  the  last,  there  needs 
only  to  mix  an  equal  quantity  of  iron  fil- 
ings, finely  powered,  and  powder  of  pure 
brimstone,  and  make  them  into  a  paste 
with  fair  water.  This  paste,  when  it  has 
lain  together  about  twenty-six  hours,  will 
of  itself  take  fire,  and  burn  all  the  sulphur 
away,  with  a  blue  flame  and  great  stink. 
For  the  others,  what  he  calls  white  gun- 
powder, is  plainly  the  thundering  powder 
called  pulvis  fulminans  by  our  chemists. 
It  is  made  only  of  three  parts  of  saltpetre, 
two  parts  of  pearl-ashes,  or  salt  of  tartar, 
and  one  part  of  flower  of  brimstone,  mixed 
together  and  beat  to  a  fine  powder;  a 
small  quantity  of  this  held  on  the  point  of 
a  knife  over  a  candle  will  not  go  off  till  it 
melts,  and  then  give  a  report  like  a  pistol ; 
and  this  he  might  easily  dispose  of  in 
larger  quantities,  so  as  to  make  it  go  off 
of  itself,  while  he  was  with  his  masters. 


From  this  diversion  at  Woodstock, 
wherein  if  we  have  exceeded  be  it  remem- 
bered that  Aubrey  carried  us  thither,  we 
return  to  the  diversions  of  the  month. 


Ye  shepherdesses,  in  a  goodly  round, 

Purpled  with  health,  as  in  the  greenwood  shade, 

Incontinent  ye  thump  the  echoing  ground, 

And  deftly  lead  the  dance  along  the  glade ; 

(O  may  no  showers  your  merry  makes  affray  !) 

Hail  at  the  opening,  at  the  closing  day, 

All  hail,  ye  Bonnibels,  to  your  own  season,  May. 

Nor  ye  absent  yourselves,  ye  shepherd  swains, 

But  lead  to  dance  and  song  the  liberal  May, 

And  while  in  jocund  ranks  you  beat  the  plains, 

Your  flocks  shall  nibble  and  your  lambkins  play, 

Frisking  in  glee.     To  May  your  garlands  bring, 

And  ever  and  anon  her  praises  sing  : 

The  woods  shall  echo  May, — with  May  the  vallies  ring. 


MAY  DAY  IN  LONDON. 

The  traunt  schoolboy  now  at  eve  we  meet, 
Fatigued  and  sweating  thro'  the  crowded  street, 
His  shoe  embrown'd  at  once  with  dust  and  clay, 
With  whitethorn  loaded,  which  he  takes  for  May. 
Round  his  flapp'd  hat  in  rings  the  cowslips  twine, 
Or  in  cleft  osiers  form  a  golden  line. 
On  milk-pail  rear'd  the  borrow'd  salvers  glare, 
Topp'd  with  a  tankard,  which  two  porters  bear, 
Reeking  they  slowly  toil  o'er  rugged  stones, 
ind  joyless  milkmaids  dance  with  aching  bones. 


591 


THE  EVEIIY-DAY  BOOK.-MAY  1 


695 


'  fflawe, 


A  pageant  quite  as  gay,  of  less  estate, 
With  flowers  made  and  solid  silver  plate  — 
A  lesser  garland  —  on  a  damask  bed, 
Was  carried  on  a  skilful  porter's  head  ; 
It  stopp'd  at  every  customer's  street-door, 
And  all  the  milkmaids  ranged  themselves  before  ; 
The  fiddler's  quick'ning  elbow  quicker  flew, 
And  then  he  stamp'd,  and  then  the  galliard  grew. 

Then  cows  the  meadows  ranged  and  fed  on  grass, 
And  milk  was  sometimes  water'd  —  now,  alas  ! 
In  huge  first  floors  each  cow,  a  prison'd  guest, 
Eats  rancid  oil-cake  in  unnat'ral  rest, 
Bids  from  her  udder  unconcocted  flow 
A  stream  a  few  short  hours  will  turn  to  —  foh  ! 

Milk  manufactories  usurp  the  place 
Of  wholesome  dairies,  and  the  milkmaid's  face, 
And  garlands  go  no  more,  and  milkmaids  cease  — 
Yet  tell  me  one  thing,  and  I'll  be  at  peace  ; 
May  I,  ye  milk  companions,  hope  to  see 
Old  "  milk  mi-eau  "  once  more  dilute  my  tea  ? 


593 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1 


694 


planting  tfre 


Profitons  enfans  des  beaux  jour 
Cette  verdure  passagere 
Nous  apprend  qu'une  loy  severe 
En  doit  bientost  finir  le  cours. 


In  this  way  the  setting  up  of  the  May- 
pole is  represented  by  one  of  the  old 
French  prints  of  the  customs  of  the  sea- 
sons,published  "  a  Paris  chez  I.Mariette," 
with  the  preceding  lines  subjoined.  It 
is  wholly  a  rustic  affair.  In  an  English 
village  such  an  event  would  have  been 
celebrated  to  the  simple  sounds  from  a 


pipe  and  tabor,  or  at  most  a  fiddle  ;  but 
our  neighbours  of  the  continent  perform 
the  ceremony  by  beat  of  drum  and  sound 
of  trumpet  Their  merriments  are  showy 
as  themselves  ;  ours  are  of  a  more  sober 
character,  and  in  the  country  seem  nearer 
to  a  state  of  pastoral  simplicity. 


My  brown  Buxoma  is  the  featest  maid, 
That  e'er  at  wake  delightsome  gambol  play'd, 
Clean  as  young  lambkins  or  the  goose's  down, 
And  like  the  goldfinch  in  her  Sunday  gown. 
The  witless  lamb  may  sport  upon  the  plain, 
The  frisking  kid  delight  the  gaping  swain, 
The  wanton  calf  may  skip  with  many  a  bound, 
And  my  cur,  Tray,  play  deftest  feats  around  ; 


595 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK— MAY  1. 


596 


But  neither  lamb,  nor  kid,  nor  calf,  nor  Tray 

Dance  like  Buxoma  on  the  first  of  May.  Gay. 

Also,  on  May-day  we  have  the  super-  longing  to  different  seasons,  he  represents 

stitions   of   innocence,   or    ignorance    if  a   young   girl    divining    respecting    her 

the  reader  please — no  matter  which,  it  is  sweetheart,  with  as  much  certainty  as  the 

the  same  thing.  In  the  same  poet's  budget  Pythian   dame    concerning   the    fate   of 

of   country  charms  and  divinations  be-  nations. 

Last  May-day  fair  I  search'd  to  find  a  snail 

That  might  my  secret  lover's  name  reveal : 

Upon  a  gooseberry-bush  a  snail  I  found, 

For  always  snails  near  sweetest  fruit  abound. 

I  seiz'd  the  vermine  ;  home  I  quickly  sped, 

And  on  the  hearth  the  milk-white  embers  spread  , 

Slow  crawl'd  the  snail,  and  if  I  right  can  spell, 

In  the  soft  ashes  mark'd  a  curious  L  : 

Oh,  may  this  wond'rous  omen  lucky  prove ! 

For  L  is  found  in  LuberJdn  and  Love. 

With  my  sharp  heel  I  three  times  mark  the  ground, 
And  turn  me  thrice  around,  around,  around. 

Gay. 


MAY  DAY  IN  UUBLIN. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
On  the  first  day  of  May,  in  Dublin  and 
its  vicinity,  it  is  customary  for  young  men 
and  boys  to  go  a  few  miles  out  of 
town  in  the  morning,  for  the  purpose  of 
cutting  a  May-bush.  This  is  generally  a 
white  thorn,  of  about  four  or  five  feet 
high,  and  they  carry  it  to  the  street  or 
place  of  their  residence,  in  the  centre  of 
which  they  dig  a  hole,  and  having  planted 
the  bush,  they  go  round  to  every  house 
and  collect  money.  They  then  buy  a 
pound  or  more  of  candles,  and  fasten 
them  to  various  parts  of  the  tree  or  bush, 
in  such  a  manner  so  as  to  avoid  burning 
it.  Another  portion  of  "  the  collection" 
is  expended  in  the  purchase  of  a  heap  of 
turf,  sufficient  for  a  large  fire,  and,  if  the 
funds  will  allow,  an  old  tar  barrel.  For- 
merly it  was  not  considered  complete  with- 
out having  a  horse's  skull  and  other  bones 
to  burn  in  the  fire.  The  depots  for  these 
bones  were  the  tanners'  yards  in  a  part  of 
the  suburbs,  called  Kilmainham  ;  and  on 
May  morning,  groups  of  boys  drag  loads 
of  bones  to  their  several  destinations. 
This  practice  gave  rise  to  a  threat,  yet 
made  use  of: — "I  will  drag  you  like  a 
norse's  head  to  the  bone -fire."  About 
dusk  when  no  more  money  can  be  col- 
'ected,  the  bush  is  trimmed,  the  turf  and 
oones  are  made  ready  to  set  on  fire,  the 
candles  are  all  lighted,  the  bush  fully 
illuminated,  and  the  boys  giving  three 
huzzas,  begin  to  dance  and  jump  round 


it.  If  their  money  will  afford  the  expen- 
diture, they  have  a  pot  of  porter  to  drink 
round.  After  an  hour  or  so,  the  heap  01 
turf  and  bones  are  set  fire  to,  and  when 
the  candles  are  burnt  out,  the  bush  is  taken 
up  and  thrown  into  the  flames.  They  con- 
tinue playing  about  until  the  fire  is  burnt 
out ;  each  then  returns  to  his  home  ;  and 
so  ends  their  May-day. 

About  two  or  three  miles  from  Dublin, 
on  the  great  northern  road,  is  a  village 
called  Finglass ;  it  is  prettily  situated, 
and  is  the  only  place  I  know  of  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Dublin,  where  May-day 
is  kept  up  in  the  old  style.  A  high  pole 
is  decorated  with  garlands,  and  visiters 
come  in  from  different  parts  of  the 
country,  and  dance  round  it  to  whatever 
music  chance  may  have  conducted  there. 
The  best  male  and  female  dancer  are 
chosen  king  and  queen,  and  placed  on 
chairs. 

When  the  dancing  is  over,  they  are 
carried  by  some  of  the  party  to  an  ad- 
jacent public-house,  where  they  regale 
themselves  with  ham,  beef,  whiskey- 
punch,  ale,  cakes,  and  porter,  after  which 
they  generally  have  a  dance  in-doors,  and 
then  disperse. 

There  is  an  old  song  relating  to  the 
above  custom,  beginning — 

Ye  lads  and  lasses  all  to-day, 
To  Finglass  let  us  haste  away ; 
With  hearts  so  light  and  dresses  gay 
To  dance  around  the  Maypole. — 
A.  O.  B. 


597 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


598 


It  is  communicated  by  T.  A.  that  it 
was  formerly  a  custom  in  Cheshire  for 
young  men  to  place  birchen  boughs  on 
May-day  over  the  doors  of  their  mis- 
tresses, and  marke  the  residence  of  a 
scold  by  an  alder  bough.  There  is  an  old 
rhyme  which  mentions  peculiar  boughs 
for  various  tempers,  an  oivler  (alder)  for  a 
scolder,  a  nut  for  a  slut,  &c.  Mr. 
Ormerode,  the  county  historian,  presumes 
the  practice  is  disused;  but  he  mentions 
that  in  the  main  street  of  Weverham,  in 
Cheshire,  are  two  Maypoles,  which  are  de- 
corated on  this  day  with  all  due  attention 
to  the  ancient  solemnity  :  the  sides  are 
hung  with  garlands,  and  the  top  terminat- 


ed by  a  birch,  or  other  tall  slender  tree 
with  its  leaves  on  ;  the  bark  being  peeled, 
and  the  stem  spliced  to  the  pole,  so  as  to 
give  the  appearance  of  one  tree  from  the 
summit. 

ORIGIN  OF  MAY  DAY. 

Our  usages  on  this  day  retain  the  cha- 
racter of  their  ancient  origin. 

Tha  Romans  commenced  the  festival  of 
Flora  on  the  28th  of  April,  and  continued 
it  through  several  days  in  May.  Ovid 
records  the  mythological  attributes  and 
dedication  of  the  season  to  that  god- 
dess : — 


Fair  Flora  !  now  attend  thy  sportful  feast, 

Of  which  some  days  I  with  design  have  past ; — 

A  part  in  April  and  a  part  in  May 

Thou  claims't,  and  both  command  my  tuneful  lay  ; 

And  as  the  confines  of  two  months  are  thine 

To  sing  of  both  the  double  task  be  mine. 

Circus  and  stage  are  open  now  and  free — 

Goddess  !  again  thy  feast  my  theme  must  be. 

3ince  new  opinions  oft  delusive  are 

Do  tliou,  O  Flora,  who  thou  art  declare  ; 

Why  should  thy  poet  on  conjectures  dwell  ? 

Thy  naine  and  attributes  thou  best  can'st  tell. 

Thus  I . — to  which  she  ready  answer  made, 

And  rosy  sweets  attended  what  she  said ; 

Though,  now  corrupted,  Flora  be  my  name, 

From  the  Greek  Chloris  that  corruption  came  : — 

In  fields  where  happy  mortals  whilome  stray'd 

Chloris  my  name,  I  was  a  rural  maid  ; 

To  praise  herself  a  modest  nymph  will  shun, 

But  yet  a  god  was  by  my  beauty  won. 


Flora  then  relates,  that  Zephyr  became 
enamoured  of  her  as  Boreas  had  been, 
that  "  by  just  marriage  to  his  bed/'  she 
was  united  to  Zephyr,  who  assigned 


her  the  dominion  over  Spring,  and  that 
she  strews  the  earth  with  flowers  and  pre- 
sides over  gardens.  She  further  says,  as 
the  deity  of  flowers, — 


I  also  rule  the  plains. 

When  the  crops  flourish  in  the  golden  field  ; 
The  harvest  will  undoubted  plenty  yield  ; 
If  purple  clusters  flourish  on  the  vine, 
The  presses  will  abound  with  racy  wine  ; 
The  flowering  olive  makes  a  beauteous  year, 
And  how  can  bloomless  trees  ripe  apples  bear  ? 
The  flower  destroyed  of  vetches,  beans,  and  peas, 
You  must  expect  but  small  or  no  increase  ; 
The  gift  of  honey's  mine,  the  painful  bees, 
That  gather  sweets  from  flowers  or  blooming  trees, 
To  scented  shrubs  and  violets  I  invite, 
In  which  I  know  they  take  the  most  delight ; 
A.  flower  an  emblem  of  young  years  is  seen, 
With  all  its  leaves  around  it  fresh  and  green  ; 
So  youth  appears,  when  health  the  body  sways, 
And  gladness  in  the  mind  luxuriant  plays. 


From  these  allegorical  ascriptions,  the 
Roman    people  worshipped    Flora,  and 


celebrated  her  festivals  by  ceremonies  and 
rejoicings,  and  offerings  of  spring  flowers 


599 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


600 


and  the  branches  of  trees  in  bloom,  which 
through  the  accommodation  of  the  Romish 
church  to  the  pagan  usages,  remain  to  us 
at  the  present  day. 


WEI.IINGTON,  UNDER  THE  WREKIN. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

It  has  been  usual  for  the  people  in  this 
neighbourhood  to  assemble  on  the  Wre- 
kin-hill,  on  the  Sunday  after  May-day, 
and  the  three  successive  Sundays,  to  drink 
a  health  "  to  all  friends  round  the  Wre- 
kin ;"  but  as  on  this  annual  festival, 
various  scenes  of  drunkenness  and  other 
licentiousness  were  frequently  exhibited, 
its  celebration  has,  of  late,  been  very 
properly  discouraged  by  the  magistracy, 
and  is  going  deservedly  to  decay. 

February,  1826.  W.  P. 


the  place,  of  a  late  bishop  of  Carlisle  pas- 
sing through  in  his  carriage  on  this  par- 
ticular day,  when  his  attention  being 
attracted  by  the  group  of  persons  assem- 
bled together,  very  naturally  inquired  the 
cause.  His  question  was  readily  an- 
swered by  a  full  statement  of  facts  which 
brought  from  his  lordship  a  severe  lecture 
on  the  iniquity  of  such  a  proceeding;  and 
at  the  conclusion,  he  said,  "  For  my  part 
I  never  told  a  lie  in  my  life."  This  was 
immediately  reported  to  the  judges,  upon 
which,  without  any  dissent,  the  hone  was 
awarded  to  his  lordship  as  most  deserv- 
ing of  it;  and,  as  is  reported,  it  was 
actually  thrown  into  his  carriage. 

For  the  truth  of  the  anecdote  I  cannot 
venture  to  assert ;  but  the  existence  of  the 
custom  is  a  well-known  fact  to  many  of 
your  readers  in  the  metropolis. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

C.  T. 


MAY  DAY  STORY-TELLING. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
slpriZZb,  1826. 

Sir, — At  a  village  in  Westmoreland 
called  Temple  Sowerby,  perhaps  if  not 
the  most,  at  least  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
in  the  north  of  England,  there  has  been, 
"  from  time  whereof  the  memory  of  man 
is  not  to  the  contrary,"  and  still  is,  a 
custom  on  the  first  day  of  May  for  a 
number  of  individuals  to  assemble  on  the 
green,  and  there  propose  a  certain  number 
as  candidates  for  contesting  the  various 
prizes  then  produced,  which  consist  of  a 
grindstone  as  the  head  prize  ;  a  hone  or 
whetstone,  for  a  razor,  as  the  second ;  and 
whetstones  of  an  inferior  description,  for 
those  who  can  only  reach  a  state  of  me- 
diocrity in  "  the  noble  art  of  lying." 

The  people  are  the  judges :  each  can- 
didate in  rotation  commences  a  story, 
such  as  his  fertile  genius  at  the  moment 
prompts  ;  and  the  more  marvellous 
or  improbable  his  story  happens  to  be,  so 
much  the  greater  chance  is  there  of  his 
success. 

After  being  amused  in  this  manner  for 
a  considerable  length  of  time,  and  award- 
ing the  prizes  Jto  the  most  deserving,  the 
host  of  candidates,  judges,  and  other 
attendants,  adjourn  to  the  inns,  where  the 
sports  of  the  day  very  often  end  in  a  few 
splendid  battles. 

There  is  an  anecdote,  very  current  in 


FLORAL  GAMES  OF  TOULOUSE. 

Over  a  door  in  the  consistory  of  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  at  Toulouse,  is  a  small 
marble  figure  of  Clemence  Isaure.  In 
this  consistory,  the  meetings  were  held 
for  distributing  the  prizes  in  the  floral 
games  ;  the  figure  had  flowers  in  her 
hand,  but  they  are  broken  off.  Below  it 
on  a  tablet  of  brass,  is  a  Latin  inscrip- 
tion, in  Roman  capitals,  but  with  so 
many  abbreviations,  and  some  of  these  of 
a  nature  so  unintelligible,  that  the  mean- 
ing is  scarcely  to  be  deciphered.  Thus 
much,  however,  is  to  be  collected  from  it, 
that  Clemeace  Isaure  is  represented  to 
have  been  the  daughter  of  L.  Isaurus,  ol 
the  ancient  and  illustrious  family  of  the 
Isaurae  of  Toulouse  ;  that  the  institution 
of  the  "  floral  games"  is  ascribed  to 
her ;  that  she  is  said  to  have  built  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  at  her  own  expense ;  to 
have  bequeathed  to  the  city  the  markets 
for  corn,  wine,  fish,  and  vegetables ;  and 
to  have  left  the  remainder  of  her  pro- 
perty in  perpetuity  to  the  city  for  the 
support  of  the  floral  games  ;  yet,  it  does 
not  mention  her  age,  or  at  what  period 
she  lived,  or  whether  she  was  maiden, 
wife,  or  widow. 

"  Le  Roman  de  Clemence  Isaure,"  an  old 
ballad  story,  represents  her  to  have 
been  a  fair  lady  of  Toulouse,  with  whom 
the  handsome  Lautrec  was  deeply  en- 
amoured, and  that  she  returned  his  love 
with  equal  passion.  Alphonso,  her  fa- 


601 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


602 


ther,  having  chosen  another  husband  for 
Clemence,  she  resisted  the  union,  declar- 
ing that  her  life  was  at  his  disposal,  but 
that  as  long  as  she  should  live,  her  heart 
must  be  wholly  Lautrec's.  Then  Al- 
phonso  caused  her  to  be  chained,  and 
shut  her  up  in  a  strong  tower,  and  threat- 
ened Lautrec's  life  if  he  could  get  him 
into  his  power;  and  Lautrec,  having 
found  the  place  of  his  mistress's  impri- 
sonment, like  a  true  lover  despised  her 
cruel  father's  threats,  and  went  to  the 
tower  and  repeated  his  vows  and  sorrows 
to  the  fair  Clemence,  who  came  to  the 
grate  and  tcld  him  of  his  danger,  and 
prayed  him  to  enter  into  the  service  of 
the  French  king,  and  follow  military 
glory,  and  chase  the  recollection  of  their 
loves  and  their  misfortunes ;  and  as  a 
pledge,  she  presented  him  with  three 
flowers,  a  violet,  an  eglantine,  and  a  ma- 
rigold. The  first  she  gave  him  as  her 
colour,  that  he  might  appear  as  her 
knight;  the  second  was  her  favourite 
flower ;  and  the  third  an  emblem  of  the 
chagrin  and  sorrow  by  which  her  heart 
was  consumed.  Then  Clemence  kissed 
the  flowers,  and  let  her  tears  fall  on  them, 
and  threw  them  to  her  lover,  and  her 
father  appeared,  and  Lautrec  gathered  up 
the  flowers,  and  hastily  withdrew.  In 
obedience  to  the  injunctions  of  his  mis- 
tress, he  departed  from  Toulouse  for  the 
French  king's  court ;  but  before  he  had 
proceeded  far  on  his  journey,  he  heard 
that  the  English  were  marching  against 
the  city ;  and  he  returned  when  the  inha- 
bitants were  flying  before  the  enemy,  and 
abandoning  the  ramparts,  and  leaving  them 
defenceless  :  and  only  one  old  man  re- 
sisted and  valiantly  maintained  his  ground. 
Then  Lautrec  fled  to  his  assistance,  and 
discovered  hinT  to  be  Alphonso,  the  fa- 
ther of  Clemence:  and  at  the  moment 
when  a  fatal  stroke  was  aimed  at  the  old 
man,  he  rushed  forward  and  received  the 
mortal  wound  himself,  and  died  in  Al- 
phonso's  arms,  and  gave  him  the  flowers 
he  received  from  Clemence,  and  conjured 
him  to  deliver  them  to  his  daughter,  and 
to  console  her  under  the  distress  his  fate 
would  bring  upon  her.  And  Alphonso 
elented,  and  in  great  sorrow  carried  the 
lowers  to  Clemence,  and  related  the  un- 
timely death  of  Lautrec ;  and  her  afflic- 
«ons  were  too  heavy  for  her  to  bear,  and 
she  fell  a  victim  to  despair  and  anguish, 
and  followed  her  lover  to  the  grave.  But 
in  remembrance  of  their  sad  story,  she 


bequeathed  her  whole  property  to  the  city 
of  Toulouse  for  the  celebration  of  annual 
games,  at  which,  prizes  of  golden  flowers, 
like  those  she  had  given  to  Lautrec,  were 
to  be  distributed  to  the  skilful  troubadours 
who  should  compose  the  best  poem,  upon 
the  occasion.  This  is  the  history  of  the 
gallant  Lautrec  and  the  fair  Clemence, 
in  the  poetical  romance. 

But  according  to  Pierre  Caseneuve,  the 
author  of  an  "  Inquiry  into  the  Origin  of 
the  Floral  Games  at  Toulouse,"  there  is 
strong  reason  to  doubt  whether  such  a 
person  as  Clemence  ever  existed.  Among 
the  archives  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  are  se- 
veral chronicles  of  the  floral  games, 
the  oldest  of  which  states,  that  in  the 
year  1324,  seven  of  the  principal  inhab- 
itants of  Toulouse,  desirous  to  promote 
the  fame  and  prosperity  of  the  city,  re- 
solved to  establish  an  annual  festival 
there,  for  the  cultivation  of  the  Pro- 
venpal  poetry,  a  spirit  of  piety,  and  sua- 
vity of  manners.  They  therefore  pro- 
posed that  all  persons  skilled  in  Provencal 
poetry,  should  be  invited  to  assemble  at 
Toulouse  every  year  in  the  beginning  of 
May,  to  recite  their  compositions,  and 
that  a  violet  of  gold  should  be  given  to 
him  whose  verses  the  judges  should  de- 
termine the  most  worthy;  and  a  circula. 
letter  in  the  Provencal  poetry  was  dis- 
persed over  the  province  of  Languedoc, 
inviting  competitors  to  assemble  in  the 
beginning  of  May  the  following  year,  to 
celebrate  this  festival. 

The  poetical  compositions  were  not  to 
be  confined  to  the  lays  of  lovers  reciting 
their  passion,  and  the  fame  of  their  mis- 
tresses; but  the  honour  of  God,  and 
glorifying  his  name,  was  to  be  their  first 
object.  It  was  wished  that  poetry  should 
conduce  to  the  happiness  of  mankind, 
and  by  furnishing  them  a  source  of  in- 
nocent and  laudable  amusement,  make 
time  pass  pleasantly,  repress  the  unjust 
sallies  of  anger,  and  dissipate  the  dark 
vapours  of  sadness.  For  these  reasons  it 
was  termed,  by  the  institutors,  the 
"  Gay  Science." 

In  consequence  of  this  invitation,  a 
large  concourse  of  competitors  resorted 
to  Toulouse  ;  and  in  May,  1325,  the  fir$ 
festival  of  the  floral  games  was  celft 
brated.  Verses  were  recited  by  the 
candidates  before  a  numerous  assembly 
The  seven  persons  with  whom  the  meet- 
ing originated,  presided  under  the  title 
of  the  chancellor  of  the  "  Gay  Science. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


604 


nnd  his  six  assessors,  and  there  also 
sat  with  them,  the  capitouls  or  chief 
magistrates  of  the  town  as  judges  ;  and 
there  was  a  great  assemblage  of  knights, 
of  gentlemen,  and  of  ladies.  The  prize 
was  given  to  the  candidate  whose  verses 
were  determined  by  the  majority  of  the 
judges  to  be  the  most  worthy. 

The  "floral  games"  of  Toulouse 
continued  to  be  celebrated  in  like  man- 
ner, at  the  sole  expense  of  the  institutors, 
till  the  magistrates  seeing  the  advantage 
they  were  of  to  the  town,  by  the  vast 
concourse  of  people  brought  thither,  and 
considering  that  their  continuance  must 
be  precarious  while  they  depended  upon 
the  ability  and  disposition  of  a  few  in- 
dividuals for  their  support,  resolved  to 
convert  the  institution  into  a  public  con- 
cern ;  and,  with  the  concurrence  of  the 
principal  inhabitants,  it  was  determined 
that  the  expense  should  in  future  be  de- 
frayed by  the  city,  that  to  the  original 
prize  two  others  should  be  added,  a  silver 
eglantine,  and  a  silver  marigold ;  and 
that  occasional  ones  might  be  distributed 
at  the  option  of  the  judges  to  very  young 
poets,  as  stimulants  to  them  to  aim  at 
obtaining  the  principal  prizes. 

After  about  thirty  years  it  was  judged 
expedient  to  appoint  a  committee,  who 
should  draw  up  such  a  code  of  statutes 
as  might  include  every  possible  case  that 
could  occur,  and  these  statutes  were  laid 
before  the  judges  for  their  approbation. 

Among  these  decrees  the  principal 
were,  that  no  prize  could  be  given  to  a 
heretic,  a  schismatic,  or  an  excommuni- 
cated person;  that  whoever  was  a 
candidate  for  any  of  the  prizes,  should 
take  a  solemn  oath  that  the  poetry  was 
his  own  composition,  without  the  least 
assistance  from  any  other  person ;  that 
no  woman  should  be  admitted  to  the 
competition,  unless  her  talents  in  com- 
posing verses  were  so  celebrated  as  to 
leave  no  doubt  of  her  being  capable  of 
writing  the  poetry  offered  : — that  no  one 
who  gained  a  prize  was  allowed  to  be  a 
candidate  again  till  after  a  lapse  of  three 
years,  though  he  was  expected  in  the 
intervening  years  to  compose  verses  for 
the  games,  and  recite  them ;  and  that  if 
any  or  all  the  prizes  remained  undisposed 
of,  from  no  verses  being  produced  that 
were  judged  worthy  of  them,  the  prizes 
were  to  remain  over  to  the  next  year, 
then  to  be  given  away  in  addition  to  the 
regular  prizes  of  the  year. 


Under  these  and  other  regulations 
the  "  floral  games"  became  celebrated 
throughout  Europe  ;  and  within  fifty  years 
from  their  first  institution  they  were  the 
resort  of  all  persons  of  distinction.  In 
1 388,  the  reigning  king  of  Arragon  sent 
ambassadors  to  Charles  the  Sixth  of 
France,  with  great  pomp  and  solemnity, 
requesting  that  some  of  the  poets  of  the 
"  floral  games"  at  Toulouse  might  be 
permitted  to  come  to  the  court,  and  assist 
in  establishing  similar  games  there  ;  pro- 
mising that,  when  they  had  fulfilled  their 
mission,  they  should  receive  rewards 
equal  to  their  merits,  and  consistent  with 
his  royal  munificence. 

This  account  of  the  institution  of  the 
"  floral  games"  is  from  the  oldest  re- 
gisters relative  to  them ;  wherein  there  is 
no  mention  made  of  the  lady  Clemence 
Isaure  till  1513,  nearly  two  hundred  years 
after  their  institution;  and  it  is  well 
known  that  the  statue  of  the  lady  Cle- 
mence in  the  consistory,  was  not  put  up 
till  the  year  1557.  In  that  year  it  had 
been  proposed  in  the  college  of  the  Gay 
Science  to  erect  a  monument  to  her  me- 
mory in  the  church  of  La  Dorade,  where 
she  was  reputed  to  have  been  buried ; 
but  this  idea  was  afterwards  changed  for 
putting  up  her  statue  in  the  room  where 
the  "  floral  games"  were  held.  From 
that  time  the  statue  was  always  crowned 
with  flowers  at  the  time  of  the  celebration 
of  the  games,  and  a  Latin  oration  pro- 
nounced in  honour  of  her.  A  satirical 
sonnet  in  the  Provencal  language  upon 
the  idea  of  erecting  either  a  monument 
or  a  statue  to  a  lady  who  never  had  any 
eixstence  in  the  world,  is  preserved  in 
Pierre  Caseneuve's  "  Inquiry  into  the 
Origin  of  the  Floral  Games." 

But  by  whomsoever  the  "  floral 
games"  of  Toulouse  were  instituted,  it  is 
remarkable,  that  the  festival  was  con- 
stantly observed  for  more  than  four  cen- 
turies and  a  half  without  interruption. 
It  did  not  cease  to  be  celebrated  till  the 
revolution.  It  was  not,  however,  con- 
tinued entirely  according  to  the  original 
institution,  since  for  a  considerable  time 
the  use  of  the  Provencal  language,  in 
the  poetry  for  the  prizes,  had  been  aban- 
doned, and  the  French  substituted  for  it. 
At  what  period  this  change  took  place 
does  not  seem  to  be  well  ascertained. 
The  number  of  prizes,  too,  was  increased 
to  five,  the  principal  of  which  was  still 
the  golden  violet;  but  instead  of  one 


605 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


600 


eglantine,  and  one  mangold  of  si'vcr, 
two  of  each  were  given.  The  violet  was 
appropriated  to  the  best  ode ;  the  others 
were  for  a  piece  in  heroic  poetry,  for 
one  in  pastoral  poetry,  for  a  satirical 
piece,  and  for  a  sonnet,  a  madrigal,  a 
song,  or  some  other  minor  effusion. 

Three  of  the  deputies  to  the  parliament 
had~  for  some  time  presided  at  these 
games,  instead  of  the  chancellor  of  the 
Gay  Science  with  his  six  assessors ;  and 
with  them  were  associated  the  capitouls, 
or  chief  magistrates  of  the  town.  All 
the  other  magistrates,  and  the  whole 
body  of  the  parliament,  attended  in  their 
robes  of  office,  with  the  principal  gen- 
tlemen of  the  town,  and  a  brilliant  as- 
semblage of  ladies  in  full  dress.  These 
were  ranged  round  the  room  in  seats 
raised  like  an  amphitheatre,  and  the 
students  of  the  university  sat  on  benches 
in  the  centre.  The  room  was  ornamented 
with  festoons  of  flowers  and  laurel,  and 
the  statue  of  Clemence  Isaure  was 
crowned  with  them.  After  the  oration 
in  honour  of  her  was  pronounced,  the 
judges,  having  previously  consulted  to- 
gether in  private,  and  assigned  the  prizes 
to  the  pieces  which  they  thought  most 
worthy  of  them,  stood  up,  and,  naming 
the  poem  to  which  one  was  given,  pro- 
nounced with  an  audible  voice,  "  Let 
the  author  come  forward."  The  author 
then  presented  himself;  when  his  name 
was  declared,  it  was  followed  by  a 
grand  flourish  of  music.  The  same  cere- 
mony was  repeated  as  each  piece  was 
announced.  The  whole  concluded  with 
each  author  publicly  reading  his  poem. 

Many  of  these  prize  poems  are  to  be 
found  in  different  collections.  Several 
prizes  were  in  latter  times  adjudged 
to  females,  without  any  strict  investiga- 
tion having  been  previously  made  into 
the  possibility  of  the  pieces  to  which 
they  were  decreed  being  female  com- 
positions. It  was  owing  to  having 
gained  a  silver  eglantine  at  one  of  these 
festivals  that  the  celebrated  Fabre  d'Eg- 
lantine  assumed  the  latter  part  of  his 
name.  He  was  a  Languedocian  by 
birth,  a  native  of  Limoux,  a  small  town 
about  four  leagues  from  Toulouse.* 


Without  such  encouragements  to  be 
poetical,  as  were  annually  offered  by  the 
conductors  of  the  "floral  games"  at 

*  Plumptre. 


Toulouse,  our  kind  feelings  have  been 
cultivated,  and  our  literature  is  enriched 
by  a  race  of  poets,  whom  we  may  venture 
to  array  against  the  united  armies  of  con- 
tinential  bards.  It  may  be  doubted 
whether  a  May  prize  of  Toulouse  was 
ever  awarded  for  sweeter  verses,  than 
Matt.  Prior's  on  Chloe's  May  flowers. 

IHE  GARLAND. 

The  pride  of  every  grove  I  chose 

The  violet  sweet  and  lily  fair, 
The  dappled  pink,  and  blushing  rose, 

To  deck  my  charming  Chloe's  hair. 

At  morn  the  nymph  vouchsaf  d  to  place 
Upon  her  brow  the  various  wreath  ; 

The  flowers  less  blooming  than  her  face, 
The  scent  less  fragrant  than  her  breath. 

The  flowers  she  wore  along  the  day, 
And  every  nymph  and  shepherd  said, 

That  in  her  hair  they  looked  more  gay 
Than  glowing  in  their  native  bed. 

Undrest  at  evening,  when  she  found 
Their  odour  lost,  their  colours  past, 

She  changed  her  look,  and  on  the  ground 
Her  garland  and  her  eye  she  cast. 

The  eye  dropt  sense  distinct  and  clear, 
As  any  muse's  tongue  could  speak, 

When  from  its  lid  a  pearly  tear 

Ran  trickling  down  her  beauteous  cheek.  » 

Dissembling  what  I  knew  too  well, 
"  My  love,  my  life,"  said  I,  "  explain 

This  change  of  humour  ;  pr'ythee  tell  : 
That  falling  tear — what  does  it  mean  ?" 

She  sighed ;  she  smil'd  ;  and,  to  the  flowers 
Pointing,  the  lovely  moralist  said, 

"  See,  friend,  in  some  few  fleeting  hours 
See  yonder,  what  a  change  is  made  ! 

"  Ah,  me  !  the  blooming  pride  of  May, 

And  that  of  beauty  are  but  one, 
At  morn  both  flourish  bright  and  gay ; 

Both  fade  at  evening,  pale  and  gone. 

"  At  dawn  poor  Stella  danc'd  and  sung ; 

The  amorous  youth  around  her  bowed, 
At  night  her  fatal  knell  was  rung ; 

I  saw  and  kissed  her  in  her  shroud. 

"  Such  as  she  is,  who  died  to-day  r 
Such  I,  alas  !  may  be  to  morrc'w  ; 

Go,  Damon,  bid  thy  muse  display 
The  justice  of  thy  Chloe's  sorrow.' 

Prior. 

A    beautiful   ode   by   another  of  our 
poets  graces  the  loveliness  of  the  season, 


607 


THE  EVERY-DA\   BOOK.— MAY  1. 


608 


and  finally  "  points  a  moral"  of  sovereign 
virtue  to  all  who  need  the  application, 
and  will  take  it  to  heart. 

SPRING. 

Lo  !  where  the  rosy  hosom'd  hours, 

Fair  Venus'  train  appear, 
Disclose  the  long  expected  flowers, 

And  wake  the  purple  year  ! 
The  attic  warbler  pours  her  throat, 
Responsive  to  the  cuckoo's  note. 

The  untaught  harmony  of  spring  : 
While  whispering  pleasure  as  they  fly, 
Cool  zephyrs  through  the  cleat  blue  sky 

Their  gathered  fragrance  fling. 

Where'er  the  oak's  thick  branches  stretch 

A.  broader,  browner  shade  ; 
Where'er  the  rude  and  moss-grown  beech 

O'er-canopies  the  glade, 
Beside  some  water's  rushy  brink 
With  me  the  muse  shall  sit,  and  think 

(At  ease  reclined  in  rustic  state) 
How  vain  the  ardour  of  the  crowd, 
How  low  how  little  are  the  proud, 

How  indigent  the  great ! 

Still  is  the  toiling  hand  of  care ; 

The  panting  herds  repose  : 
Yet  hark,  how  through  the  peopled  air 

The  busy  murmur  glows  ! 
The  insect  youth  are  on  the  wing, 
Eager  to  taste  the  honied  spring, 

And  float  amid  the  liquid  noon  : 
Some  lightly  o'er  the  current  skim, 
Some  slow,  their  gayly-gilded  trim 

Quick-glancing  to  the  sun. 

To  Contemplation's  sober  eye 

Such  is  the  race  of  man : 
And  they  that  ci-eep  and  they  that  fly, 

Shall  end  where  they  began. 
Alike  the  busy  and  the  gay 
But  flutter  through  life's  little  day 

In  fortune's  varying  colours  drest . 
Brushed  by  the  hand  of  rough  mischance  ; 
Or  chill'd  by  age,  their  airy  dance 

They  leave  in  dust  to  rest. 


Methinks  I  hear  in  accents  low 

The  sportive  kind  reply  ; 
"  Poor  moralist !  and  what  art  thou  ? 

A  solitary  fly  ! 

Thy  joys  no  glittering  female  meets, 
No  hive  hast  thou  of  hoarded  sweets, 

No  painted  plumage  to  display  : 
On  hasty  wings  thy  youth  is  flown  . 
Thy  sun  is  set,  thy  spring  is  gone — 

We  frolic  while  'tis  May." 

Gay. 

Then,  too,  a  bard  of  the  preceding 
centuries  introduces  "the  Shepherd's 
Holiday,"  the  day  we  now  memorialize, 
with  nymphs  singing  his  own  sweet 
verses  in  "  floral  games." 
Nymph  1. 

Thus,  thus  begin,  the  yearly  rites 
Are  due  to,  Pan  on  these  bright  nights  , 
His  morn  now  riseth,  and  invites 
To  sports,  to  dances,  and  delights  : 
All  envious,  and  profane  away, 
This  is  the  shepherd's  holiday. 

Nymph  2. 

Strew,  strew,  the  glad  and  smiling  ground, 
With  every  flower,  yet  not  confound 
The  primrose  drop,  the  spring's  own  spouse, 
Bright  daisies,  and  the  lips-of-cows, 

The  garden-star,  the  queen  of  May, 

The  rose,  to  crown  the  holiday. 

Nymph  3. 

Drop  drop  your  violets,  change  your  hues, 
Now  red,  now  pale,  as  lovers  use, 
And  in  your  death  go  out  as  well 
As  when  you  lived  unto  the  smell  : 

That  from  your  odour  all  may  say, . 

This  is  the  shepherd's  holiday. 

Jonson. 

It  is  to  be  observed  as  a  remarkable 
fact,  that  among  the  poets,  the  warmest  ad- 
vocates and  admirers  of  the  popular  sports 
and  pastimes  in  village  retreats,  uniformly 
invigorate  and  give  keeping  to  their 
pictures,  by  sparkling  lights  and  har- 
monizing shadows  of  moral  truth. 


But  hark  !  the  bagpipe  summons  on  the  green, 

The  jocund  bagpipe,  that  a.waketh  sport ; 
The  blithsome  lasses,  as  the  morning  sheen, 

Around  the  flower-crown'd  Maypole  quick  resort ; 
The  gods  of  pleasure  here  have  fix'd  their  court. 

Quick  on  the  wing  the  flying  moment  seize, 
Nor  build  up  ample  schemes,  for  life  is  short, 

Short  as  the  whisper  of  the  passing  breeze. 


609 


THE   EVLUY-DAY   BOOK— MAY  1. 


610 


GATHERING  OF  MAY  DEW. 

This  engraving  represents  certain  lads 
a«d  lasses  of  "  auld  Reekie,"  who  are 
early  gatherers  of  "  May-dew,"  in  tlw  act 
of  dancing  to  the  piper's  "  skirl."  From 


a  slight  sketch  accompanying  the  commu- 
nication, Mr.  George  Cruikshank's  pencil 
depicts  the  "  action,"  which  it  should 
be  observed  takes  place  on  a  hill. 


Darner*  at  9rtl;tur'tf*0eat. 


Strathspeys  and  reels, 

Put  life  and  metal  in  their  heels. 


Burns. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book. 
Edinburgh,  April  20,  1826. 

My  Dear  Sir, — Allow  me,  without  pre- 
face, to  acquaint  you  with  a  custom  of 
gathering  the  May-dew  here  on  the  first  of 
May. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  there 
is  an  unusual  stir;  a  great  opening  of 
area  gates,  and  ringing  of  bells,  and  a 
"  gathering"  of  folk  of  all  clans,  arrayed 
in  all  thp  colours  of  the  rainbow ;  and  a 

VOL.  II.— 72. 


hurrying  of  gay  throngs  of  both  sexes 
through  the  King's-park  to  Arthur's-seat 
In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  the  entire 
hill  is  a  moving  mass  of  all  sorts  and  sizes 
At  the  summit  may  be  seen  a  company  or 
bakers,  and  other  craftsmen,  dressed  in 
kilts,  dancing  round  a  Maypole.  On  the 
more  level  part  "  next  door,"  is  usually 
an  itinerant  vender  of  whiskey,  or  moun- 
tain (not  May)  dew,  your  approach  to 
whom  is  always  indicated  by  a  number  of 
"  bodies "  carelessly  lying  across  your 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


612 


path,  not  dead,  but  drunk.  In  another 
place  you  may  descry  two  parties  of  Irish- 
men, who,  not  content  with  gathering  the 
superficial  dew,  have  gone  "  deeper  and 
deeper  yet,"  and  fired  by  a  liberal  desire 
to  communicate  the  fruits  of  their  industry, 
actively  pelt  each  other  with  clods. 

These  proceedings  commence  with  the 
daybreak.  The  strong  lights  thrown  upon 
the  various  groups  by  the  rising  sun,  give 
a  singularly  picturesque  effect  to  a  scene, 
wherein  the  e.ver-varying  and  unceasing 
sounds  of  the  bagpipes,  and  tabours  and 
fifes,  et  hoc  genus  omne,  almost  stun  the 
ear.  About  six  o'clock,  the  appearance  of 
the  gentry,  toiling  and  pechin  up  the 
ascent,  becomes  the  signal  for  serving  men 
and  women  to  march  to  the  right-about ; 
for  they  well  know  that  they  must  have 
the  house  clean,  and  every  thing  in  order 
earlier  than  usual  on  May-morning. 

About  eight  o'clock  the  "  fun"  is  all 
over  ;  and  by  nine  or  ten,  were  it  not  for 
the  drunkards  who  are  staggering  towards 
the  "  gude  town,"  no  one  would  know 
that  any  thing  particular  had  taken  place. 

Such,  my  dear  sir,  is  the  gathering  of 
May-dew.  I  subjoin  a  sketch  of  a  group 
of  dancers,  and 

I  am,  &c. 

P.  P.,  Jun. 


It  is  noticed  in  the"  MorningPost"  of  the 
second  of  May,  1791,  that  the  day  before, 
"  being  the  first  of  May,  according  to 
annual  and  superstitious  custom,  a  num- 
ber of  persons  went  into  the  fields  and 
bathed  their  faces  with  the  dew  on  the 
grass,  under  the  idea  that  it  would  render 
them  beautiful." 


May -dew  was  held  of  singular  virtue  in 
former  times.  Pepys  on  a  certain  day  in 
May  makes  this  entry  in  his  diary  : — 

"  My  wife  away,  down  with  Jane  and 
W.  Hewer  to  Woolwich,  in  order  to  a 
little  ayre,  and  to  lie  there  to  night,  and 
so  to  gather  May-dew  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, which  Mrs.  Turner  hath  taught  her  is 
the  only  thing  in  the  world  to  wash  her 
face  with  ;  and"  Pepys  adds,  "  I  am  con- 
tented with  it."  His  "  reasons  for  con- 
tentment" seem  to  appear  in  the  same 
line  ;  for  he  says,  "  I  (went)  by  water  to 
Fox-hall,  and  there  walked  in  Spring- 
garden  ;"  and  there  he  notices  "  a  great 
deal  of  company,  and  the  weather  and 
garden  pleasant :  and  it  is  very  pleasant 


and  cheap  going  thither,  for  a  man  may 
go  to  spend  what  he  will,  or  nothing — all 
as  one :  but  to  hear  the  nightingale  and 
other  birds;  and  here  a  fiddler,  and  there 
a  harp ;  and  here  a  jew's-trump,  and  here 
laughing,  and  there  fine  people  walking, 
is  mighty  diverting,"  says  Mr.  Pepys, 
while  his  wife  is  gone  to  lie  at  Woolwich, 
"  in  order  to  a  little  ayre,  and  to  gather 
May-dew." 


GERARD'S  HALL  MAYPOLE. 

Basing  Lane. 

Whence  this  lane  derived  its  name  of 
Basing,  Stow  cannot  tell.  It  runs  out 
of  Bread-street,  and  was  called  the  Bake- 
house, but,  "  whether  meant  for  the  king's 
bakehouse,  or  bakers  dwelling  there,  and 
baking  bread  to  serve  the  market  in 
Bread-street,  where  the  bread  was  sold,  I 
know  not,"  says  Stow ;  "but  sure  I  am, 
I  have  not  read  of  Basing  or  of  Gerard, 
the  gyant,  to  have  any  thing  there  to 
doe!" 

It  seems  that  this  Maypole  was  fabled 
to  have  been  "  the  justing  staff  of  Gerard, 
a  gyant."     Stow's  particulars   concerning 
it,  and  his  account  of  Gerard's-hall,  which 
at  this  time  is  an  inn  for  Bath  and  West 
of  England   coaches   and  other   convey- 
ances,  are   very  interesting.      He    says, 
"  On  the  south  side  of  this  (Basing)  lane 
is  one  great  house,  of  old  time  builded 
upon   arched    vaults,   and    with    arched 
gates   of  stone,  brought  from    Cane    in 
Normandie ;  the  same  is  now  a  common 
ostrey  for   receit  of  travelers,    commonly 
and  corruptly  called  Gerard's-hall,  of  a 
gyant  said  to  have  dwelled  there.    In  the 
high  roofed  hall  of  this  house,  sometime 
stood  a  large  Firre-Pole,  which  reached  to 
the  roofe  thereof,  and  was  said  to  be  one 
of  the  staves  that  Gerard  the  gyant  used 
in    the  warres,  to  runne  withall.     There 
stood  also  a  ladder  of  the  same  length, 
which  (as  they  said)  served  to  ascend   to 
the  top  of  the  staffe.     Of  later  yeeres  this 
hall  is    altered    in    building,    and    divers 
roomes  are  made  in  it.     Notwithstanding, 
the  pole  is  removed  to  one  corner  of  the 
hall,  and  the  ladder  hanged  broken  upon 
a  wall  in  the  yard.     The  hosteler  of  that 
house  said  to  rnee,  the  pole  lacked  half  a 
foote  of  forty  in  length.     I  measured  the 
compasse   thereof,  and   found  it  fifteene 
inches.      Reason  of  the  pole  could    the 
master  of  the  hosiery  give  me  none,  but 
bade  mee  reade  the  Chronicles,  for  there 


613 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


614 


he  heard  of  it.  Which  answer,"  says 
Stow,  "seemed  to  me  insufficient:  for 
he  meant  the  description  of  Britaine,  for 
the  most  part  drawne  out  of  John  Ley  land, 
his  commentaries  (borrowed  of  myselfe) 
and  placed  before  Reynes  Wolfe's 
Chronicle,  as  the  labours  of  another." 
It  seems  that  this  chronicle  has  "  a  chap- 
ter of  gyants  or  monstrous  men — of  a 
man  with  his  mouth  sixteene  foote  wide, 
and  so  to  Gerard  the  gyant  and  his 
staffe,"  which  Stow  speaks  of  as  "  these 
fables,"  and  then  he  derives  the  house 
called  Gerard 's-hall,  from  the  owner 
thereof,  "  John  Gisors,  maior  of  London, 
in  the  yeere  1245,"  and  says,  "  The  pole  in 
the  hall  might  bee  used  of  old  time  (as 
then  the  custome  was  in  every  parish)  to 
bee  set  up  in  the  summer,  a  Maypole, 
before  the  principall  house  in  the  parish 
or  streete,  and  to  stand  in  the  hall  before 
the  scrine,  decked  with  hollie  and  ivie  at 
the  feast  of  Christmas.  The  ladder  served 
for  the  decking  of  the  Maypole,  and 
reached  to  the  roof  of  the  hall." 

To  this  is  added,  that  "  every  man.-; 
house  of  old  time  was  decked  with  holly 
and  ivie  in  the  winter,  especially  at 
Christmas;'*  whereof,  gentle  reader,  be 
pleased  to  take  notice,  and  do  "  as  they 
did  in  the  old  time." 


Wethink  we  remember  something  about 
milkmaids  and  their  garlands  in  our  boyish 
days;  but  even  this  lingering  piece  of 
professional  rejoicing  is  gone ;  and  in- 
stead of  intellectual  pleasures  at  courts, 
manly  games  among  the  gentry,  the  vernal 
appearance  every  where  of  boughs  and 
flowers,  and  the  harmonious  accompani- 
ment of  ladies'  looks,  all  the  idea  that  a 
Londoner  now  has  of  May-day,  is  the 
dreary  gambols  and  tinsel-fluttering  squa- 
lidness  of  the  poor  chimney-sweepers! 
What  a  personification  of  the  times; — 
paper-gilded  dirt,  slavery,  and  melan- 
choly, bustling  for  another  penny  ! 

Something  like  celebrations  of  May-day 
still  loiter  in  more  remote  parts  of  the 
country,  such  as  Cornwall,  Devonshire, 
and  Westmoreland  ;  and  it  is  observable, 
that  most  of  the  cleverest  men  of  the  time 
come  from  such  quarters,  or  have  other- 
wise chanced  upon  some  kind  of  insula- 
tion from  its  more  sophisticated  common- 
places.— Should  the  subject  come  before 
the  consideration  of  any  persons  who  have 
not  had  occasion  to  look  at  it  with  refer- 
ence to  the  general  character  of  the  age, 


they  will  do  a  great  good,  and  perhaps 
help  eventually  to  alter  it,  by  fanning  the 
little  sparks  that  are  left  them  of  a  bright- 
er period.  Our  business  is  to  do  what 
we  can,  to  remind  the  others  of  what  they 
may  do,  to  pay  honours  to  the  season 
ourselves,  and  to  wait  for  that  alteration 
in  the  times,  which  the  necessity  of  things 
must  produce,  and  which  we  must  endea- 
vour to  influence  as  genially  as  possible 
in  its  approach.* 


From  Mr,  Leslie's  pencil,  there  is  a 
picture  of  May-day,  "  in  the  old  time" — 
the  "golden  days  of  good  queen  Bess" 
— whereon  a  lady,  whose  muse  delights 
in  agreeable  subjects,  has  written  the 
following  descriptive  lines  : — 

ON  MAY  DAY. 
By  Leslie. 

Beautiful  and  radiant  May, 

Is  not  this  thy  festal  day  ? 

Is  not  this  spring  revelry 

Held  in  honour,  queen,  of  okee  ? 

"Pis  a  fair  :  the  booths  are  gay, 

With  green  boughs  and  quaint  display 

Glasses,  where  the  maiden's  eye 

May  her  own  sweet  face  espy  ; 

Ribands  for  her  braided  hair, 

Beads  to  grace  her  bosom  fair  j 

From  jron  stand  the  juggler  plays 

With  the  rustic  crowd's  amaze  ; 

There  the  morris-dancers  stand, 

Glad  bells  ringing  ou  each  hand  ; 

Here  the  Maypole  rears  its  crest. 

With  the  rose  and  hawthorn  drest  j 

And  beside  are  painted  bands 

Of  strange  beasts  from  other  lands. 

In  the  midst,  like  the  young  queen, 

Flower-crowned,  of  the  rural  green, 

Is  a  bright-cheeked  girl,  her  eye 

Blue,  like  April's  morning  sky, 

With  a  blush,  like  what  the  rose 

To  her  moonlight  minstrel  shows  ; 

Laughing  at  her  love  the  while, — 

Yet  such  softness  in  the  smile, 

As  the  sweet  coquette  would  hide 

Woman's  love  by  woman's  pride. 

Farewell,  cities  !  who  could  bear 

All  their  smoke  and  all  their  care, 

All  their  pomp,  when  wooed  away 

By  the  azure  hours  of  May  ? 

Give  me  woodbine,  scented  bowers 

Blue  wreaths  of  the  violet  flowers, 

Clear  sky,  fresh  air,  sweet  birds,  and  trees, 

Sights  and  sounds,  and  scenes  like  these  I 

L.  E.  L. 


*  The  Examiner. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— TvlAY  1 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Northampton,  April,  1826. 

Sir, — Having  received  much  inform- 
ation from  your  Every-Day  Book,  I 
shall  be  very  happy  to  afford  any  that  I 
may  be  able  to  glean  ;  but  my  means  are 
extremely  limited.  1  however  mention  a 
custom  at  Northampton  on  the  first  ot 
May,  with  some  hope  that  I  am  not 
troubling  you  with  a  "  twice-told  tale." 

The  girls  from  the  neighbouring  villages 
of  Kingsthorpe,  &c.  on  the  morning  of 
May-day,  come  into  the  town  with  May 
garlands,  which  they  exhibit  from  house 
to  house,  (to  show,  as  the  inhabitants  say, 
vhat  flowers  are  in  season,)  and  usually 
receive  a  trifle  from  each  house.  The 
garland  is  composed  of  two  hoops  cross- 


<§arlaria. 


ing  each  other  vertically,  and  covered 
with  flowers  and  streamers  of  various 
coloured  ribands ;  these  are  affixed  to  a 
staff  about  five  feet  long  by  which  it  is  car- 
ried, and  in  each  of  the  apertures  between 
the  hoops  is  placed  a  smartly  dressed  doll. 
The  accompanying  sVetch  will  convey 
some  idea  of  the  garland.  There  are 
numerous  streamers  attached  to  it,  of  all 
the  colours  of  the  rainbow.  Should  you 
think  this  notice  worth  inserting,  I  shall 
feel  obliged  by  your  substituting  any  sig- 
nature you  please  for  my  name,  which, 
agreeable  to  your  request  to  correspond- 
ents who  communicate  accounts  of  cus- 
toms, &c.,  I  subjoin. 

1  am,  &c. 

B  S  G.  S 


THE-EVEIIY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


last  Cljunnep  £>toeeper, 

A  large  brush  made  of  a  number  of  small  whalebone  sticks,  fastened  into  a  round  ball  of 
wood,  and  extending  in  most  cases  to  a  diameter  of  two  feet,  is  thrust  up  the  chimney  by 
means  of  hollow  cylinders  or  tubes,  fitting  into  one  another  like  the  joints  of  a  fishing  rod, 
with  a  long  cord  running  through  them  ;  it  is  worked  up  and  down,  as  each  fresh  joint  is 
added,  until  it  reaches  the  chimney  pot  ;  it  is  then  shortened  joint  by  joint,  and  on  each 
joint  being  removed,  is  in  like  manner  worked  up  and  down  in  its  de 
—" 


yon    have    your 
a  Scandiscope. 


chimney    swept    perfectly   clean 


escent;  and  thus 
by  this   machine,   which    is   called 


Some  wooden  tubes,  a  brush,  and  rope, 

Are  all  you  need  employ; 
Fray  order,  maids,  the  Scandiscope, 

And  not  the  climbing  boy. 


Copy  of  a  printed  hand-bill,  distributed  before  May-day,  1826. 

lio 


CAUTION. 

e  inhabitants  of  this  parish  are  most  respectfully  informed,  that  the   UNITED  SOCIETY  or 
MASTEII  CIIIMNFV  SwEEPEus  intend  giving  their  apprentices  a  dinner,  at  the  Eyre  Anns 


619 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


620 


St  John's  Wood,  on  the  first  of  May,  instead  of  suffering  them  to  collect  money  as 
heretofore ;  the  public  are  therefore  cautioned  against  encouraging  in  any  way  such 
collections,  as  they  are  too  frequently  obtained  by  persons  of  the  worst  descriptions,  or  for 
the  sinister  purposes  of  their  employers. 

N.  B.  The  procession  will  start  from  the  Bedford  Arms,  Charlotte-street,  Bedford-square,  at 
eleven  o'clock. 


On  Monday,  the  first  of  May,  1826, 
(pursuant  to  the  above  notice,)  the  first 
anniversary  dinner  of  the  "  United  So- 
cietyv  of  Master  Chimney  Sweepers,"  took 
place  at  the  Eyre  tavern,  St.  John's-wood, 
Marylebone. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  two  hundred  of 
their  apprentices  proceeded  in  great  regu- 
larity through  the  principal  streets  and 
squares  at  the  west  end  of  the  town,  ac- 
companied by  an  excellent  band  of  music. 
The  clean  and  wholesome  appearance  of 
the  lads,  certainly,  reflected  much  credit 
on  their  masters,  and  attracted  crowds  of 
persons  to  the  above  tavern,  where  the 
boys  were  regaled  with  a  substantial  re- 
past of  roast  beef  and  plum-pudding ; 
after  which  the  masters  themselves  sat 
down  to  a  very  excellent  dinner  provided 
for  the  occasion. 

On  the  cloth  being  removed,  and  the 
usual  routine  of  loyal  toasts  drank,  the 
chairman  addressed  his  brother  trades- 
men, congratulating  them  on  the  formation 
of  a  society  that  was  calculated  to  do 
such  essential  service  to  the  trade  in 
general.  It  would  be  the  means  of  pro- 
moting the  welfare  of  their  apprentices, — 
which  was  a  feeling  he  was  convinced 
every  one  of  them  had  at  heart, — who,  in- 
stead of  being  permitted  to  loiter  and 
dance  about  the  streets  on  the  first  of  May, 
dressed  up  in  tawdry  apparel,  and  solicit- 
ing money,  should  in  future  be  regaled 
with  substantial  fare  on  each  forthcoming 
day  of  the  anniversary  of  the  society,  in 
order  to  put  an  end  to  the  degrading 
practice  which  had  for  such  a  length  of 
time  stigmatized  the  trade.  (Applause.) 

"  Success  to  the  United  Society  of 
Chimney  Sweepers,"  having  been  drank 
with  thunders  of  applause, 

Mr.  BENNETT,  of  Welbeck-street,  ad- 
dressed the  company  on  the  subject  of 
cleansing  chimnies  with  the  machine,  the 
introduction  of  which  he  was  confident 
would  never  answer  the  intended  pur- 
poses. He  urged  the  absolute  necessity 
of  employing  climbing  boys  in  their 
trade ;  and  instanced  several  cases 
in  which  the  machines  were  rendered 
perfectly  useless  :  most  of  the  chimnies  in 
Ihe  great  houses  at  the  west  end  of  the 


town  were  constructed  in  such  a  manner 
that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  clear 
them  of  soot,  unless  a  human  being  was 
sent  up  for  that  purpose.  He  admitted 
that  some  houses  had  chimnies  which 
were  built  perpendicular;  but  even  in 
those  were  frequently  to  be  met  with  what 
the  trade  called  "  cores,"  which  were  large 
pieces  of  mortar  that  projected  out  from 
the  brick -work,  and  that  collected  vast 
quantities  of  soot  on  their  surface,  so  that 
no  machine  could  get  over  the  difficulty. 
When  the  subject  of  the  climbing  boys 
was  before  the  house  of  lords,  he  (Mr. 
Bennett)  was  sent  for  by  the  earl  of 
Hardwicke,  who  was  desirous  of  person- 
ally ascertaining  whether  the  practice  of 
allowing  boys  to  ascend  chimnies  could 
be  dispensed  with  entirely.  He  (Mr. 
Bennett)  had  attended  at  his  lordship's 
residence  with  the  machine,  which  was 
tried  in  most  of  the  chimnies  in  the 
huose,  but  the  experiment  failed  ;  one  of 
his  apprentices  having  been  ultimately 
obliged  to  ascend  for  the  purpose  of  ex- 
tricating the  machine  from  impediments 
which  were  only,  to  be  surmounted  by  the 
activity  of  climbing  boys.  The  result  was, 
that  his  lordship  subsequently  expressed 
his  opinion  that  the  machines  could  never 
answer  the  purposes  for  which  they  were 
originally  intended,  and  therefore  had  his 
chimnies  swept  by  the  old  method.  Mr. 
Bennett  concluded  by  making  some  ob- 
servations on  the  harsh  manner  in  which 
the  trade  had  been  aspersed.  He  said 
it  had  been  insinuated  that  their  ap- 
prentices, in  consequence  of  being  per- 
mitted to  ascend  chimnies,  were  often 
rendered  objects  for  the  remainder  of 
their  lives.  There  were,  he  admitted,  a 
few  solitary  instances  of  accidents  hap- 
pening in  their  trade  as  well  as  in  every 
other.  He  now  only  wished  that  their 
opponents  might  have  an  opportunity  of 
witnessing  the  healthy  and  cheerful  state 
in  which  their  apprentices  were. 

A  master  chimney-sweeper,  with  great 
vehemence  of  action  and  manner,  said, 
"lam  convinced,  Mr.  Chairman,  that  it 
is  a  thing  impossible  to  do  away  with  our 
climbing  boys.  For  instance,  look  at  the 
duke  of  York's  fifty-one  new  chimnies. 


621 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


623 


Let  me  ask  any  one  of  you  in  company, 
is  it  possible  a  machine  could  be  poked 
up  any  one  of  them  ?  I  say,  no  ;  and  for 
this  reason — that  most  of  them  run  in  a 
horizontal  line,  and  then  abruptly  turn 
up,  so  that  you  see  a  machine  would  be  of 
no  more  use  than  if  you  were  to  thrust  up 
an  old  broomstick  ;  and  I  mean  to  stick 
to  it,  that  our  opponents  may  as  well  try 
to  put  down  chimney-sweepers  in  the  old 
way,  as  the  Equitable  Loan  Bank  Com- 
pany endeavoured  to  cut  up  the  business 
of  the  pawnbrokers.  (Applause.)  When 
I  look  round  the  table,  (said  the  speaker,) 
and  see  such  respectable  gentlemen  on 
my  right  and  on  my  left,  and  in  front  of 
me,  who  dares  to  say  that  the  United 
Society  of  Master  Chimney  Sweepers  are 
not  as  respectable  a  body  of  tradesmen  as 
any  in  London  ?  and  although,  if  I  may 
be  excused  the  expression,  there  is  not  a 
gentleman  now  present  that  has  not  made 
his  way  in  the  *  profession/  by  climbing 
up  chimnies.  (There  was  a  universal  nod 
of  assent  at  this  allusion.)  Therefore, 
continued  the  speaker,  the  more  praise  is 
due  to  us,  and  I  now  conclude  by  wishing 
every  success  to  our  new  society."  The 
above  animated  address  was  received 
with  the  loudest  plaudits. 

Several  other  master  chimney-sweepers 
addressed  the  company,  after  which  the 
ladies  were  introduced  into  the  room,  and 
dancing  commenced,  which  was  kept  up 
to  a  late  hour.* 


On  the  first  of  May,  1807,  the  slave 
trade  in  the  West  Indies  was  proscribed 
by  the  British  parliament,  and  we  see  by 
the  proceedings  at  the  Eyre  tavern,  St. 
John's-wood,  that  on  the  first  of  May, 
1 826,  an  effort  was  made  to  continue  the 
more  cruel  black  slavery  of  white  infants. 
Some  remarks  reported  to  have  been  made 
by  these  gentlemen  in  behalf  of  their 
"  black  art,"  require  a  word  or  two. 

We  are  told  that  after  the  usual  routine 
of  loyal  toasts,  the  chairman  congratulated 
his  "  brother  tradesmen"  on  the  formation 
of  a  society  that  was  calculated  to  do 
"  essential  service  to  the  trade  in  general." 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  "  the  king" 
was  the  first  name  on  their  list  of  toasts, 
yet  it  happens  that  his  majesty  is  at  the 
head  of  an  association  for  abolishing  their 
"  trade."  The  first  names  on  the  roll  of 
"  The  Society  for  suspending  Climbing 


The  Times,  May  3,  1826. 


Boys  by  the  use  of  the  Scandiscope,"  are 
those  of  the  "  patron,"  and  the  president, 
vice-presidents,  committee,  and  treasurer. 
These  are  chiefly  prelates,  peers, and  mem- 
bers of  the  house  of  commons;  but  the 
"  patron"  of  the  society  is  "  the  king,"  in 
opposition  to  whom,  in  the  capacity  of 
"  patron,"  Mr.  Bennett,  the  master-sweep, 
of  Welbeck-street,  urges  the  "  absolute 
necessity"  of  employing  climbing  boys. 
One  of  his  reasons  is,  that  in  some  chim- 
nies the  bricklayers  have  "  cores"  of  mor- 
tar whereon  the  soot  accumulates  so  that, 
no  machine  can  get  over  the  difficulty  ; 
but  this  only  shows  the  "  absolute  neces- 
sity" of  causingthe  "  cores"  to  be  removed 
from  chimnies  already  so  deformed,  and  ot 
making  surveyors  of  future  houses  respon- 
sible for  the  expenses  of  alteration,  if  they 
suffer  them  to  be  so  improperly  con- 
structed. Mr.  Bennett  says,  that  lord 
Hardwicke  was  convinced  "  the  machines 
could  never  answer  the  purposes  for  which 
they  were  originally  intended,  and  there- 
fore had  his  chimnies  swept  by  the  old 
method."  If  his  lordship  did  express  that 
opinion,  it  is  in  opposition  to  the  opinion 
of  the  king,  as  "  patron,"  the  late  bishop 
of  Durham,  the  present  bishop  of  Oxford, 
the  duke  of  Bedford,  the  lords  Grosvenor, 
Morley,  Harrowby,  Gwydir,  Auckland, 
and  other  distinguished  individuals,  who 
as  president  and  vice-presidents  of  the 
society,  had  better  opportunities  of  deter- 
mining correctly,  than  Mr.  Bennett  pro- 
bably afforded  to  earl  Hardwicke. 

Another  "  master  chimney-sweeper"  is 
reported  to  have  said,  «'  look  at  the  duke 
of  York's  fifty-one  new  chimnies : — most 
of  them  run  in  a  horizontal  line,  and  then 
abruptly  turn  up,  so  that,  you  see,  a  ma- 
chine would  be  of  no  more  use  than  if  you 
were  to  thrust  up  an  old  broomstick  :"  and 
then  he  asks,  "  who  dares  to  say  that  the 
United  Society  of  Master  Chimney  Sweep- 
ers are  not  as  respectable  a  body  of  trades- 
men as  any  in  London  ?"  and  triumphant- 
ly adds,  that  "  there  is  not  a  gentleman 
now  present  that  has  not  made  his  way  in 
the  profession  by  climbing  up  chimnies." 
To  this  "  there  was  a  universal  nod  of  as-» 
sent."  But  a  universal  admission  by  all 
"  the  gentlemen  present"  that  they  had 
climbed  to  respectability  by  climbing  up 
chimnies,  is  of  very  little  weight  with  those 
who  observe  and  know  that  willing  slaves 
become  the  greatest  and  most  effective 
oppressors  ;  and  as  to  the  duke  of  York's 
new  chimnies,  it  is  not  credible  his  royal 
highness  can  be  informed  that  the  present 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


624 


construction  of  his  chimnies  necessarily 
dooms  unborn  infants  to  the  certain  fate 
of  having  the  flesh  torn  from  their  joints 
oefore  they  can  sweep  such  chimnies.  The 
scandalous  default  of  a  surveyor  has 
subjected  the  duke  of  York  to  the  odium 
of  being  quoted  as  an  authority  in  oppo- 
sition to  a  society  for  abolishing  a  cruel 
and  useless  trade,  wherein  servitude  is 
misery,  and  independence  cannot  be  at- 
tained but  by  the  continual  infliction  of 
blows  and  torture  on  helpless  children. 
Yet  as  an  act  of  parliament  abated  the 
frequency  of  conflagrations,  by  empower- 
ing district  surveyors  to  cause  the  erection 
of  party  walls,  so  a  few  clauses  added  to 
the  building  act  would  authorize  the  sur- 
veyors to  enforce  the  building  of  future 
chimnies  without  "  cores,"  and  of  a  form 
to  be  swept  by  the  "  Scandiscope."  Master 
chimney-sweepers  would  have  no  reason  to 
complain  of  such  enactment,  inasmuch  as 
they  would  continue  to  find  employment, 
till  the  old  chimnies  and  the  prejudices  in 
favour  of  cruelty  to  children,  disappeared 
by  eJHuxion  of  time. 

The  engraving  at  the  head  of  this  arti- 
cle is  altered  from  a  lithographic  print  re- 
presenting a  "  Scandiscope."  Perhaps  the 
machine  may  be  better  understood  from 
the  annexed  diagram.  It  simply  consists 
of  a  whalebone  brush,  and  wooden  cylin- 
ders strung  on  rope,  and  put  into  action 
by  the  method  described  beneath  the  larger 
engraving. 

Mr.  George  Smart  obtained  two  gold 
medals  from  the  Society  of  Arts  for  this 
invention.  The  names  of  the  machine 
chimney-sweepers  in  different  parts  of 


London  may  be  obtained  from  Mr.  Wilt, 
secretary  of  the  "  Society  for  superseding 
Climbing  Boys,"  No.  125,  Leadenhall- 
street ;  the  treasurer  of  the  institution  is 
W.  Tooke,  esq.,  F.  R.  S,  Any  person  may 
become  a  member,  and  acquaint  himself 
with  the  easy  methods  by  which  the  ma- 
chine is  adopted  to  almost  any  chimney. 
As  the  climbing  chimney-sweepers  are 
combining  to  oppose  it,  all  humane  indivi- 
duals will  feel  it  a  duty  to  inquire  whether 
they  should  continue  willing  instru- 
ments in  the  hands  of  the  "  profession  " 
for  the  extension  of  the  present  cruel 
practice. 


an 


The    late    Mrs.    Montagu    gave 
annual  dinner  to  the  poor  climbing  boys 
which  ceased  with  her  death. 


And  is  all  pity  for  the  poor  sweeps  fled, 

Since  Montagu  is  numbered^with  the  dead  ?  „ 

She  who  did  once  the  many  ^sorrows  weep, 

That  met  the  wanderings  of  the  woe-worn  sweep  ! 

Who,  once  a  year,  bade  all  his  griefs  depart, 

On  May's  sweet  morn  would  doubly  cheer  his  h^art ! 

Washed  was  his  little  form,  his  shirt  was  clean, 

On  that  one  day  his  real  face  was  seen, 

His  shoeless  feet,  now  boasted  pumps — and  new. 

The  brush  and  shovel  gaily  held  to  view  ! 

The  table  spread,  his  every  sense  was  charmed. 

And  every  savoury  smell  his  bosom  warmed  ; 

His  light  heart  joyed  to  see  such  goodly  cheer, 

And  much  he  longed  to  taste  the  mantling  beer  : 

His  hunger  o'er — the  scene  was  little  heaven — 

If  riches  thus  can  bless,  what  blessings  might  be  given ! 


625 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1 . 


€26 


But,  she  is  gone !  none  left  to  soothe  their  grief, 
Or,  once  a  year,  bestow  their  meed  of  beef ! 
Now  forth  he's  dragged  to  join  the  beggar's  dance ; 
With  heavy  heart,  he  makes  a  slow  advance, 
Loudly  to  clamour  for  that  tyrant's  good, 
Who  gives  with  scanty  hand  his  daily  food  ! 


It  is  the  interest  of  the  "  United  Society 
of  Master  Chimney  Sweepers"  to  appear 
liberal  to  the  wretched  beings  who  are"  the 
creatures  of  their  mercy ;  of  the  variation 
and  degrees  of  that  mercy,  there  is  evi- 
dence before  the  committee  of  the  house 
of  commons.  Sympathy  for  the  oppressed 
in  the  breast  of  their  oppressors  is  reason- 
ably to  be  suspected.  On  the  minutes  of  the 
"  Society  for  superseding  Climbing  Boys," 
there  are  cases  that  make  humanity  shud- 
der ;  against  their  recurrence  there  is  no 
security  but  the  general  adoption  of  ma- 
chines in  chimnies — instead  of  children. 


Mr. Montgomery's  "  Chimney  Sweeper's 
Friend,  and  Climbing  Boys'  Album,"  is  a 
volume  of  affecting  appeal,dedicatedtothe 
king, "  in  honour  of  his  majesty's  condes- 
cending and  exemplary  concern  for  the 
effectual  deliverance  of  the  meanest,  the 
poorest,  and  weakest  of  British  born  sub- 
iects,  from  unnatural,  unnecessary,  and 
unjustifiable  personal  slavery  and  moral 
degradation."  It  contains  a  variety  of 
beautiful  compositions  in  prose  and  verse : 
one  of  them  is — 


THE  CHIMNEY  SWEEPER. 

Communicated  by  Mr.  Charles  Lamb,  from  a  very  rare  and  curious  little  work, 
Mr.  Blake's  "  Songs  of  Innocence  " 

When  my  mother  died  I  was  very  young, 
And  my  father  sold  me,  while  yet  my  tongue 
Could  scarcely  cry,  "  Weep  !  weep  !  weep !" 
So  your  chimnies  I  sweep,  and  in  soot  I  sleep. 

There's  little  Tom  Toddy,  who  cried  when  his  head, 
That  was  curl'd  like  a  lamb's  back,  was  shaved,  so  1  said, 
"  Hush,  Tom,  never  mind  it  for  when  your  head's  bare, 
You  know  that  the  soot  cannot  spoil  your  white  hair." 

And  so  he  was  quiet,  and  that  very  night 

As  Tom  was  a  sleeping,  he  had  such  a  sight, 

That  thousands  of  sweepers,  Dick,  Joe,  Ned,  and  Jack, 

Were  all  of  them  locked  up  in  coffins  so  black. 

And  by  came  an  angel,  who  had  a  bright  key, 
And  he  opened  the  coffins,  and  set  them  all  free ; 
Then  down  a  green  plain,  leaping,  laughing,  they  run, 
And  wash  in  a  river,  and  shine  in  the  sun, 

Then  naked  and  white,  all  their  bags  left  behind, 
They  rise  upon  clouds,  and  sport  in  the  wind  ; 
And  the  angel  told  Tom,  if  he'd  be  a  good  boy 
He'd  have  God  for  his  father,  and  never  want  joy. 

And  so  Tom  awoke,  and  we  rose  in  the  dark, 
And  got  with  our  bags  and  our  brushes  to  work ; 
Though  the  morning  was  cold,  Tom  was  happy  and  warm, 
So  if  all  do  their  duty  they  need  not  fear  harm. 


Dining  with  Duke  Humphrey, 

MAY  DAY  HONOURS  TO  HIM. 
In  old  St.  Paul's  cathedral  "  within  a 
proper  chappel  purposely  made  for  him/' 


and  in  a  proper  tomb,  sir  John  Beau- 
champ,  constable  of  Dover,  and  warden  or 
the  cinque  ports,  was  buried  in  the  year 
1358.  "  This  deceased  nobleman,"  says 
Stow,  "  by  ignorant  people  hath  been 
erroneously  mistermed  and  said  to  be 


627 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


628 


duke  Humfrey,  the  good  duke  of  Glou- 
cester, who  lyeth  honourably  buried  at 
Saint  Albans  in  Hartfordshire,  twenty 
miles  from  London;  in  idle  and  frivolous 
opinion  of  whom,  some  men,  of  late  times, 
have  made  a  solemne  meeting  at  his 
tombe  upon  Saint  Andrewe's  day  in  the 
morning  (before  Christmasse)  and  con- 
cluded on  a  breakfast  or  dinner,  as  assur- 
ing themselves  to  be  servants,  and  to  hold 
diversity  of  offices  under  the  good  duke 
Humfrey." 

Stow's  continuator  says,  "  Likewise,  on 
May-day,  tankard  bearers,  watermen,  and 
some  other  of  like  quality  beside,  would 
use  to  come  to  the  same  tombe  early  in 
the  morning,  and,  according  as  the  other, 
deliver  serviceable  presentation  at  Ihe 
same  monument,  by  strewing  herbes,  and 
sprinkling  faire  water  on  it,  as  in  the 
duty  of  servants,  and  according  to  their 
degrees  and  charges  in  office  :  but  (as 
Master  Stow  hath  discreetly  advised 
such  as  are  so  merrily  disposed,  or  simply 
profess  themselves  to  serve  duke  Hum- 
frey in  Pauls)  if  punishment  of  losing 
their  dinners  daily,  there,  be  not  sufficient 
for  them,  they  should  be  sent  to  St. 
Albans,  to  answer  there  for  their  disobe- 
dience, and  long  absence  from  their  so 
highly  well  deserving  lord  and  master,  as 
in  their  merry  disposition  they  please  so 
to  call  him." 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  mock 
solemnity  on  May-day,  and  the  feast  of 
St.  Andrew,  on  pretence  of  attending  a 
festival  in  Paul's,  on  the  invitation  of  a 
dead  nobleman  in  another  place,  gave  rise 
to  the  saying  concerning  "  dining  with 
duke  Humfrey."  It  is  still  used  respect- 
ing persons  who  inquire  "  where  shall  I 
dine  ?"  or  who  have  lost,  or  are  afraid  of 
"  losing  their  dinners." 


PRINTERS'  MAY  FESTIVAL 

The  following  particulars  of  a  very 
curious  celebration  is  remarkable,  as 
being  a  description  of  the  old  mode  of 
festivous  enjoyment,  "  according  to 
order,''  and  the  wearing  of  garlands  by 
the  stewards,  with  "  whifflers"  in  the  pro- 
cession.* It  is  extracted  from  Handle 
Holme's  "Storehouse  of  Armory,  1688." 

Stationers'  Hall  May  Feast. 

The  Printers,  Journeymen,  with  the 
Founders  and  Ink-makers  have  every 

*  Wk\fflers,  see  vol.  i.  p,  1444,  note,  and  1188. 


year  a  general  Feast,  which  is  kept  in  the 
Stationers  Hall  on  or  about  May  Day. 
It  is  made  by  4  Stewards,  2  Masters,  and 
2  Journeymen  ;  and  with  the  Collection 
of  half  a  Crown  a  piece  of  every  Guest, 
the  charges  of  the  whole  Feast  is  de- 
frayed. 

About  10  of  the  Clock  in  the  Morning 
on  the  Feast  day,  the  Company  invited 
meet  at  the  place  appointed,  and  from 
thence  go  to  some  Church  thereabouts  in 
this  following  Order.  First,  4  Whifflers 
(as  Servitures)  by  two  and  two,  walking 
before  with  white  Staves  in  their  Hands, 
and  red  and  blew  Ribbons  hung  Belt- 
wise  upon  their  Shoulders :  these  make 
way  for  the  Company. 

Then  walks  the  Beadle  of  the  Company 
of  Stationers,  with  the  Companies  Staff  in 
his  Hand,  and  Ribbons  as  afore. 

Then  the  Minister,  whom  the  Stewards 
have  engaged  to  Preach  the  Sermon,  and 
his  Reader  or  Clerk. 

Then  the  Stewards  walk,  by  two  and 
two,  with  long  white  wands  in  their 
Hands,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  Company 
follow  in  like  order,  till  they  enter  the 
Church,  &c.  Service  ended,  and  a  Ser- 
mon suitable  for  the  occasion  finished, 
they  all  return  to  their  Hall  in  the  same 
order,  where  upon  their  entrance  each 
Guest  delivers  his  Ticket  to  a  Person 
appointed,  which  gives  him  admittance ; 
where  every  one  Feasts  himself  with  what 
he  likes  best,  being  delighted  all  the  while 
with  Musicks  and  Songs,  &c. 

After  Dinner  the  Ceremony  of  Electing 
new  Stewards  for  the  next  Year  begins : 
then  the  Stewards  withdraw  into  another 
Room,  and  put  Garlands  of  Laurel  or 
Box  on  their  Heads,  and  white  wands  in 
their  Hands,  and  are  Ushered  out  of  the 
withdrawing  Room  thus ; — 

First,  the  Companies  Beadle  with  his 
Staff  in  his  Hand,  and  Musick  sounding 
before  him ; 

Then  one  of  the  Whifflers  with  a  great 
Bowl  of  White  wine  and  Sugar  in  his 
right  Hand,  and  his  Staff  in  the  left :  after 
him  follows  the  eldest  Steward. 

Then  another  Whiffler  as  aforesaid, 
before  the  second  Steward  ;  in  like  man- 
ner another  Whiffler  before  the  third ; 
and  another  before  the  fourth  Steward. 

And  thus  they  walk,  with  Musick 
sounding  before  them,  three  times  round 
the  Hall;  and,  in  the  fourth  round,  the 
first  Steward  takes  the  Bowl  from  his 
Whiffler,  and  Drinks  to  one  (whom  be- 
fore he  resolved  on)  by  the  Title  of  Mr 


629 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  « 


630 


Steward  Elect ;  and  taking  the  Garland 
off  his  own  Head,  puts  it  on  the  Steward 
Elect's  Head,  at  which  all  the  Company 
clap  their  Hands  in  token  of  Joy. 

Then  the  present  Steward  takes  out 
the  Steward  elect,  and  Walks  with  him, 
hand  in  hand,  (giving  him  the  right 
Hand,)  behind  the  three  other  Stewards, 
another  round  the  Hall ;  and  in  the  next 
round  as  aforesaid,  the  second  Steward 
drinks  to  another  with  the  same  Cere- 
mony as  the  first  did  ;  and  so  the  third, 
and  so  the  fourth.  And  then  all  walk 
one  round  more,  hand  in  hand,  about  the 
Hall,  that  the  Company  may  take  Notice 
of  the  Stewards  Elect :  and  so  ends  the 
Ceremony  of  the  Day. 


They  are  both  represented  in  an  en- 
graving published  by  the  late  Mr.  Nath-i 
niel  Smith,  of  Great  May's  buildings, 
from  whence  the  preceding  views  are 
copied  for  the  purpose  of  more  especially 
marking  the  discovery  of  the  old  tower  on 
this  festival  day. 


A  rare  tract,  connected  with  the  his- 
tory of  the  opera  in  England,  records  a 
jeu  d'esprit,  which,  together  with  the 
tract,  are  attributed  to  the  author  of  the 
'*  Pursuits  of  Literature :"  it  will  be  seen 
to  relate  to  the  present  day  from  the 
following  extracts  from  the  pamphlet. 


Cofotfr 

OF  THE  CITY  WALL. 
This  is  a  front  view  of  a  watch  tower, 
or  one  of  the  barbicans,  on  the  city  wall, 
which  was  discovered  near  Ludgate-hill 
on  the  first  of  May,  1792.  Below  is  a 
section  of  Ludgate-hill  from  a  plan  of 
London  by  Hollar,  wherein  this  tower  is 
described. 


THE  EDITOR 

TO 

THE  READER. 

Mai/  5,  1800. 
Piu  non  si  turbi  all'  anima 

La  sua  tranquillitA : 
Pen&iamo  solo  a  ridere  ; 
SARA  QUEL  CHE  SARA'. 

Aria  ;  Gli  Zingari  in  Fiera.  A.  2. 


THE  following  poetical  Composition 
appeared  in  the  Morning  Herald  of  May 
1,  1800;  and  it  is  reprinted  at  the  very 
particular  request  of  several  persons, 
votaries  of  the  Opera,  Fashion,  Wit,  and 
Poetry,  who  were  desirous  that  it  should 
be  preserved  in  a  less  perishable  form 
than  that  of  a  Newspaper. 

The  occasion  of  THE  ARM-CHAIRS 
being  placed  in  the  Pit  at  the  Opera  House 
was  this.  Before  the  opening  of  the 
Opera  House  this  season,  it  was  generally 
understood,  that  His  MAJESTY  had  gra- 
ciously signified  to  Lord  Salisbury  his 
concern,  that  any  of  the  Subscribers 
should  be  deprived  of  their  Boxes  on  the 
nights  when  His  MAJESTY  honoured  the 
Theatre  with  his  presence.  This  being 
communicated  to  Mr.  Taylor,  he  observed 
that  the  ROYAL  objection  might  easily  be 
obviated,  by  detaching  the  last  Row  from 
the  Pit,  on  these  occasions,  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  Subscribers.  This  was  done 
accordingly,  and  a  Row  of  ARM-CHAIRS, 
with  Locks  and  Keys  to  the  bottoms  of 
them,  were  placed  there,  which  on  every 


63 1 


THE  EVERY-DAV  BOOK.— MAY  i. 


632 


other  night  were  to  be  free  for  general 
accommodation.  But  about  two  months 
after,  the  Arm-Chairs  were  removed,  and 
a  long  bench  was  substituted. 

On  this  great  event,  the  Editor  has 
no  Intercepted  Letters  to  lay  before  the 
public  by  authority,  and  therefore  he  has 
not  applied  to  Mr.  Canning  for  a  Preface, 
nor  for  Notes  to  Mr.  GifFord.  There  is 
no  Egyptian  Fast  to  be  solemnized,  nor 
Festival  to  be  celebrated.  He  can  assure 
them  also,  that  neither  the  Mustapha 
Raschid  EfFendi  and  Mustapha  Ressichi 
Effendi  for  the  Grand  Vizir ;  nor  General 
Dessaix  and  Citizen  Poussielgue  for 
General  Kleber,  were  Commissioners  on 
signing  this  Convention.  But  THE  EVA- 
CUATION OF  THE  ARM-ED  CHAIRS  was 
effected  without  bloodshed  or  loss  on 
either  side,  by  LORD  GALLOWAY  and  Mr. 
BELL,  Commissioners  on  the  part  of  the 
Amateurs  and  Conoscenti,  and  by  Signer 
LORENZO  DA  PONTE,  Poet  to  the  Opera 
House,  and  Mr.  SOLOMON,  Leader  of  the 
Band,  Commissioners  on  the  part  of 
General  Taylor  and  the  Dramatic  Field 
Marshal  THE  MARQUIS  OF  SALISBURY. 
The  Arm-ed  Chairs  were  surrendered 
three  days  after  the  signing  of  the  Capi- 
tulation, without  the  intervention  of  any 
gallant  Knight*  from  Sweden  or  from 
Malta. 

Thus  far  is  from  the  preface,  and  after 
a  few  remarks  and  a  "  Scena"  in  Italian, 
the  poem  alluded  to,  and  here  reprinted 
verbatim,  is  introduced  in  the  following 
manner : — 

March  19,  1800. 
THE  ARGUMENT. 

A  month  or  two  ago,  Lord  Galloway 
came  to  the  Opera,  and  on  the  Pit-door 
near  the  Orchestra  being  opened,  he 
perceived,  to  his  confusion  and  astonish- 
ment, that  a  long  Bench  was  substituted 
in  the  place  of  the  Row  of  ARM-CHAIRS 
at  the  bottom  of  the  Pit,  the  principal 
or  central  of  tvhich  he  had  filled  for  so 
many  nights  with  discernment  and  dig- 
nity, and  to  the  general  satisfaction  of 
every  person  present.  His  Lordship 

*  This  differs  a  little  from  THE  ARGUMENT 
prefixed  to  the  Poem,  but  the  impartial  His- 
torian of  a  future  age  will  weigh  the  authori- 
ties on  either  side,  and  record  the  truth  ac- 
cording to  the  evidence. 

THE  EDITOR. 


conceiving,  rather  hastily,  that  this 
measure  was  intended  as  a  personal 
slight  to  himself,  retired  disconcerted, 
without  taking  his  seat ;  and,  as  he  is 
a  votary  of  the  Muses,  penned  the  fol- 
lowing Lamentation,  which  he  sent  to 
Lord  Salisbury  the  next  day,  and  re- 
covered his  wonted  good  humour, 
cheerfulness,  and  gayety. 


PANDOLFO  ATTONITO! 

OR, 

LORD  GALLOWAY'S 
POETICAL  LAMENTATION 

ON  THE 

REMOVAL  OF  THE  ARM-CHAIRS 

FROM  THE 

PIT  AT  THE  OPERA  HOUSE  ! 


WHAT  ! — the  proud  honours  of  the  chair 
Must  I  no  more,  with  CECIL  (a),  share  ?— 

Still  be  my  soul  serene 
VlrtA,  or  virtue's  but  a  name, 
Brutus  and  Galloway  exclaim, 

And  sighing  quit  the  scene. 

Too  sure  I  heard  a  warning  knell, 
And  told  my  Critic  Brother  BELL  (£) 

The  fall  of  seats  (c)  and  stocks; 
Yet  fondly  sooth'd  by  BOLLA'S  airs, 
Thought  TAYLOR'S  bottom,  and  his  chairs 

Secure  with  keys  and  locks,  (rf) 

But  ah  !  how  Fortune  loves  to  joke  ! 
Expell'd  am  I,  who  sung  and  spoke 

As  loud  as  at  the  Fair  :  (e) 
While  yearly,  with  six  thousand  pound, 
The  Commons  ADDINGTON  have  bound 

Their  Servant  TO  THE  CHAIR. 

My  purer  taste,  my  classic  eye, 
Unzon'd  Thalia  could  descry, 

Who  stepp'd  beyond  her  place  : 

(a)  "  Our  Midas  sits  Lord  Chancelkn  ,, 
Plays"  Dunciad. 

(5)  Mr.  BELL,  an  ingenious  Gentleman, 
very  conversant  in  the  Stocks  and  Funds, 
Grand  Amateur,  and  Connoisseur  of  the 
Lower  Bench. 

(c)  It  is  feared  that  the  Noble  Lord  alludes 
to  the  value  of  seats  in  a  certain  House,  after 
the  Union.  EDITOR. 

(d)  The  bottoms  of  these  lamented  Chairs 
were  kept  under  lock  and  key. 

(f)  i.  e.  As  loud  as  the  very  Gipsies  them- 
selves on  the  Stage  at  the  Fair.  This  is 
poetry,  but  no  fiction.  EDITOR. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1. 


6£4 


How  oft  I  warn'd,  in  either  house, 
That  charms  too  plain  at  last  would  rouse 
The  Mitre  and  the  Mace  ! 

I  with  Pandolfo  watch'd  the  sphere, 
When  Mars  on  Venus  shone  so  clear, 

That  Saturn  (/)  felt  the  shock  : 
Grave  SHUTE  and  HENRY  shrunk  at  Love, 
And  at  the  loose  flesh-colour'd  glove, 

That  blush'd  at  twelve  o'clock. 

I  said,  some  folks  would  thunder  Greek 
At  HILLIGSBERG'S  Morale  lubrique, 

And  PARISOT'S  costume  !  (g) 
Where  shall  Paullim'a,  tight  and  round,  (k) 
In  vest  appropriate  now  be  found, 

With  India's  palm  and  plume  ? 

Old  Q — NSB — RY  feels  his  dotard  qualm, 
TerpsichorS  can  pour  no  balm 

O'er  half  his  visual  ray  ; 
Nor  WILLIAM  (i)  can  console  the  Sag, 
Nor  Elise*e  (£)  his  pain  assuage, 

Nor  Yarmouth  smooth  his  way. 

When  MARINARI'S  (/)  magic  hand 
Traced  the  bold  view  in  fabled  land, 

For  Fawns  and  Wood-nymphs  meet  • 
Ah,  soon,  I  cried,  may  SAL'SB'RY  think, 
'Tis  just,  that  they  who  dance  should  drink, 

And  they  who  sing,  should  eat.  (If) 


(/)     "  Quel   Saturno    briccon   ti    guarda 
trino." 

Gli  Zingari  in  Fiera,  A.  !. 
(g]  Contecta  levi  velatum  pectus  amictu, 
Et  tereti  strophio  luct antes  vine t a  pa- 

pillas.  Catullus. 

(A)  Alluding  to  the  fascinating  Ballet  of 
Paul  et  Vir ginie.  BACCHUS  AND  ARIADNE  too 
are  now  constrained  to  appear  in  patch-work 
dresses.  The  Costume  is  lost,  and  the  Graces 
mourn.  Jacet  semisepulta  Venus.  So  says 
the  D.  of  Q.  and  many  others  of  the  ton  hold 
the  same  doctrine. 

If  Propertius  were  Ballet  Master  he  would 
cast  the  parts  of  the  HILLISBERG  toujours  gaie 
et  int&ressante,  of  the  PARISOT  au  geste  amme 
et  sublime,  and  of  the  LABORIE  a  sourire  doux 
et  tnchanteur,  with  exquisite  and  approptiate 
taste. 
Hate  hederas  legat  in  thyros,  Haec  carmina 

nervis 

Apte4t  et  Ilia  manu  texat  utraque  rosam  ! 
(i)  Lord  William  Gordon. 
(A)  PEREELISE'E,  Conoscente  e  Medico  di 
camera  al  Serenissimo  Duca. 

"  Corpo  dotato  di  Sanita." 

Gli  Zingari  in  Fiera. 

(/)  The  painter  of  various  exquisite  scenes 
at  the  Opera  House 

(//)  Les  Chanteurs  et  les  Danseurs,  des 
deux  Sexes,  a  Monsieur  T.  si  tendre  et  si  cruel ; 
"  //  faut  que  nous  vivions." — REPONSE  de 
Monsiur  11.  "  Jt  n'en  vois  pas  la  nfaessite." 


For  this,  in  arbitrating  state, 

In  presence  of  the  wise  and  great, 

I  sung  the  Sovereign's  air  :  (T») 
Firm  was  my  voice,  for  TAYLOR  smil'd  , 
Nor  deem'd  I  then,  (too  well  beguil'd,) 

How  slippery  was  the  Chair. 

Nor  G — rd — n's  coarse  and  brawny  Grace, 
The  last  new  Woman  IN  THE  PLACE  (») 

With  more  contempt  could  blast ; 
Not   Marlb'rough's   damp   on   Bland  ford's 

purse 
To  me  could  prove  a  heavier  curse ; 

My  fame,  my  glory  past. 

Fall'n  though  I  am,  I  ne'er  shall  mourn, 
Like  the  dark  Peer  on  STORER'S  urn,  (m) 

Reflecting  on  his  seat  ! 
In  vain  that  mean  mysterious  Sire 
In  embers  would  conceal  the  fire  ; 

While  Honour's  pulse  can  beat. 

For  me  shall  droop  th*  Assyrian  Queen,  ( 
With  softest  train  and  tragic  mien, 

The  SIDDONS  in  her  art ; 
E'en  BOLLA  (p}  shall  forget  to  please, 
With  sparkling  eye  and  playful  ease, 

And  Didelot  shall  start. 


LE  TABLEAU, 
Pre'sente'  a  Monseigneur  le  Chambellan  POLO- 

NIUS  ! 

"  Chanteurs,  Danseurs,  assailants,  assaillis, 
Battans,  battus,  dans  ce  grand  chamaillis: 
Ciel,  que  decris,  etque  de  hurlemens  ! 
PERE  ELISE'E  reprit  un  peu  ses  sens  ; 
II  se  tenoit  les  deux  cfites  de  rire, 
Et  reconnut  que  ce  fatal  empire 
De  1'Opera,  des  Jeux,  et  du  grand  Ton, 
Etoit  sansdoute  uneoeurre  du  Demon." 
THE  EDITOR. 

(»)  The  Air  of  Midas  in  the  Barletta,  be- 
ginning thus  : 
"  I'm  given  to  understand  that  you're  all  in 

a  pother  here, 
Disputing  whether,  &c." 
(»)    An  expression   used,  with   a  curiout 
felicity,  by  her  Grace  fov  "  the  Manufactured 
Ladies  of  Fashion"  imported  from  Yorkshire 
and  other  Counties  into  Portland  Place,  £c. 
whose  houses  she  condescended  to  enter.     But 
once  she  was  most  unfortunately  mistaken. 
Car  Madame  M — LLS,  ouvrant  un  large  bee, 
(Ayant  en  un  Palais  changee  sa  chaumieref 
Son  air  de  drap  devint  demarche  ficre ;) 
Disoit  tout  haut,  que  G — RD — N  par/oil  Grec. 
Les  Grands  surpris  admirent  sa  hauteur, 
Et  les  Petits  Cappellcnt  Dame  d'hunncur. 

LESON  a  deux  tranchans,  tttnt  a  la 
Bourgeoisie,  qiia  la  Noblesse. 

THE  EDITOR. 

(tin]     ANTONY     STORER,    Esq.     formerly 
Member  for  Morpeth,  (as  some  persons  may 
possibly  recollect,)  a  gentleman  well   known 
in  the  circles  of  fashion  and  polite  literature. 
(o)   BANTI  la  Sovrana. 
(p)  BOLLA  la  Vcztosa. 


635 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  1,3,4. 


626 


Leo  enthron'd  bade  Querno  sit ; 
And  GIANNI'S  (y)  verse  and  regal  wit 

THE  CONSUL  lovet  to  share  : 
Pye  has  the  laurel  and  the  sack, 
And  C— mbe  the  foolscoat  on  his  back, 

But  Galloway,  no  Chair. 

Yet  though,  reduc'd  by  Taylor's  pranks, 
I  sit  confounded  in  the  ranks, 

Good  Humour's  still  my  own  ; 
Still  shall  I  breathe  in  rapt'rous  trance, 
"  Eternal  be  the  Song,  the  Dance, 

THE  OPERA  AND  THE  THRONE  '" 

(a)  GIANNI,  the  Italian  Poet  Laureat  to 
Buonaparte,  as  Camillo  Querno  was  to  Pope 
Leo  X.  For  a  specimen  of  Gianni's  Poetry, 
see  THE  TIMES  of  Dec.  31,  1800. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  52  •  75. 


DEMONSTRATIVE  PROOF. 

It  is  noticed  in  the  journals  of  May, 
1817,  that  in  the  preceding  summer,  Mr. 
J.  Welner,  a  German  chemist,  retired  to 
his  house  in  the  country,  there  to  devote 
himself,  without  being  disturbed,  to  the 
study  and  examination  of  poisonous  sub- 
stances for  the  purpose  of  producing 
a  complete  "  Toxicology,"  established 
by  undeniable  proof.  He  tried  his 
poisons  upon  himself,  and  appeared  in- 
sensible to  the  great  alterations  which 
such  dangerous  trials  produced  upon  his 
health.  At  the  latter  end  of  the  month 
of  October,  he  invented  some  unknown 
poisonous  mixture  ;  and  wished  to  be  as- 
sured of  its  effect.  The  following  is  the 
account  which  he  gives  of  it  in  the  last 
page  of  his  manuscript  :  —  "  A  potion 
composed  of  —  (here  the  substances  are 
named,  and  the  doses  indicated)  —  is 
mortal  ;  and  the  proof  of  it  is  —  that  I  am 
dying  .'" 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  52  •  55. 


3. 


INVENTION  OF  THE  CROSS. 

For  the  origin  of  this  church  of  England 
holiday,  see  vol.  i.  p.  611. 


"A  PIE  SAT  ON  A  PEAR  TREE." 
To  the  Editor  oft/te  Every-Day  Book. 

May  3,  1826. 

Sir, — There  is  a  custom  at  Yarmouth 
dinners,  which  in  my  opinion  would  be 
"  more  honoured  in  the  breach  than  the 
observance."  After  the  cloth  has  been 
removed,  and  the  ladies  have  retired,  some 
one  in  the  company,  who  is  an  adept  in 
the  game,  sings  the  following  lines, — . 

"  A  pie  sat  on  a  pear  tree, 
A  pie  sat  on  a  pear  tree, 
A  pie  sat  on  a  pear  tree, 
Heigh  oh  !  heigh  oh  !  heigh  oh  !" 

At  the  conclusion,  the  person  sitting  next 
to  the  singer  continues  the  strain  thus, — 

"  And  once  so  merrily  hopp'd  she  ;" 
during  which  the  first  singer  is  obliged  to 
drink  a  bumper,  and  should  he  be  unable 
to  empty  his  glass  before  the  last  line  is 
sung,  he  must  begin  again  until  he  suc- 
ceeds. 

The  difficulty  consists  in  swallowing  the 
liquor  fast  enough,  many  getting  tipsy 
before  they  are  able  to  accomplish  it; 
This  of  course  goes  round  the  party,  until 
the  whole  are  either  completely  "  knocked 
up,"  save  a  few  who  from  the  capacity  of 
their  throats  are  so  fortunate  as  to  escape. 
Your  inserting  the  above  in  the  Every- 
Day  Book  will  much  oblige,  Sir,  &c. 

J.F. 

The  preceding  is  from  a  valued  corres- 
pondent, on  whose  veracity  full  reliance  is 
placed  by  the  editor  ;  he  will  neverthe- 
less be  happy  to  hear  that  this  usage  is  on 
the  decline. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  52  •  67. 


1826.  HOLY  THURSDAY, 

Or  Ascension  Day. 

For  this  movable  feast  see  vol.  i.  p.  651, 
641. 


TISSINOTON  WELL  DRESSING. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Unless  the  historians  of  Derbyshire 
have  been  very  negligent  in  their  in- 
quiries, the  peak  differs  exceedingly  from 
mountainous  tracts  in  general,  where  the 
customs,  manners,  and  language  of  anti- 
quity are  preserved  with  peculiar  care. 


637 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  4. 


638 


The  language,  indeed,  has  retained  its 
olden  character,  but  of  peculiar  customs 
little  is  known.  In  Lysons'  "  Magna 
Britannia,"  the  practices  of  rush-bearing, 
of  hanging  up  white  gloves  and  garlands 
of  roses  in  the  churches,  at  the  funerals  of 
young  maidens, — of  foot-ball  plays,  now 
confined  to  Derby,  and  this  well-dressing 
of  Tissington  are  the  sum  total  of  those 
notices  under  the  head  of  "Country  Cus- 
toms." A  correspondent  communicated 
to  the  Every-Day  Book  in  March,  a 
custom  existing  near  Tideswell ;  and  I 
have  seen  it  stated  in  a  provincial  paper, 
that  a  right  is  claimed  in  the  Peak  Forest 
of  marrying  after  the  fashion  of  Gretna 
Green,  and  that  such  a  wedding  actually 
took  place  not  very  long  ago.  Some- 
thing more  of  this  should  be  known. 

Tissington  well-dressing  is  a  festivity, 
which  not  only  claims  a  high  antiquity, 
but  is  one  of  the  few  country  fetes  which 


are  kept  up  with  any  thing  like  the  ancient 
spirit.  It  is  one  which  is  heartily  loved 
and  earnestly  anticipated.  One  which 
draws  the  hearts  of  those  who  were 
brought  up  there,  but  whom  fortune  has 
cast  into  distant  places,  homewards  with 
an  irresistible  charm.  I  have  not  had 
the  pleasure  of  witnessing  it,  but  I  have 
had  that  of  seeing  the  joy  which  sparkled 
in  the  eyes  of  the  Tissingtonians  as  they 
talked  of  its  approach,  and  of  their  pro- 
jected attendance.  Long  before  the  time 
arrives,  they  have  canvassed  the  neigh- 
bourhoods where  they  reside,  for  flowers 
to  take  with  them  :  and  these  flowers,  in 
all  the  instances  which  have  come  under 
my  notice  have  been  red  daisies,  and 
none  else.  If,  however,  John  Edwards, 
in  his  poem,  "  The  Tour  of  the  Dove," 
be  correct,  others  must  be  used,  and  those 
wild  flowers : — 


*'  Still  Dovedale  yield  thy  flowers  to  deck  the  fountains 

Of  Tissington,  upon  its  holyday  ; 
The  customs  long  preserved  among  the  mountains 

Should  not  be  lightly  left  to  pass  away. 
They  have  their  moral ;  and  we  often  may 

Learn  from  them  how  our  wise  forefathers  wrought, 
When  they  upon  the  public  mind  would  lay 

Some  weighty  principle,  some  maxim  brought 
Home  to  their  hearts,  the  healthful  product  of  deep  thought.'' 


In  a  note  he  adds ; — "  The  custom  of 
decorating  wells  with  flowers,  and  attend- 
ing them  with  religious  services  and 
festive  rejoicings  on  Holy  Thursday,  is 
not  peculiar  to  Tissington.  Many  other 
wells  have  been  committed  to  the  patronage 
of  the  saints,  and  treated  with  reverence; 
some  on  account  of  the  purity,  and  others 
for  the  medicinal  virtues  of  their  waters. 
St.  Alkmund's  well  at  Derby,  is  an  in- 
stance of  the  former  class,  where  the 
name  has  been  continued  long  after  the 
superstition  which  gave  it  has  passed 
away.  In  the  dark  ages  of  popery,  this 
veneration  for  holy  wells  was  carried 
to  an  idolatrous  excess,  insomuch,  that  in 
the  reigns  of  Edgar  and  Canute,  it  was 
found  necessary  to  issue  edicts  prohibiting 
well-worship.  But  the  principle  of  vene- 
ration for  waters,  if  restricted  within  its 
proper  bounds,  is  amiable  :  indeed,  it 
seems  to  have  been  implanted  in  the 
breast  of  man  in  all  ages.  A  fountain  is 
the  emblem  of  purity  and  benevolence. 
From  the  days  when  the  patriarchs 
journeyed  in  the  wilderness,  down  to  the 


present  period — whether  bursting  from 
the  arid  sands  of  the  African  desert,  or 
swelling  out  its  genial  waters  amid  the 
Greenland  snows — its  soft  melody,  its 
refreshing  virtues,  and  its  transparency, 
have  ever  been  a  subject  of  delight  and 
interest  to  the  human  race.  Who  could 
have  approached  the  Bethesda  of  the  Jews 
with  a  callous  heart  ?  Who  could  have 
listened  to  the  song  of  Israel  with  indiffer- 
ence, when  her  princes  had  digged  the 
well,  and  her  nobles  and  lawgiver  stood 
around  it  ?" 

Rhodes,  who  has  traversed  almost  every 
part  of  the  peak  with  indefatigable  zeal, 
gives  the  following  account  in  his  "  Peak 
Scenery."  "  An  ancient  custom  still  pre- 
vails in  the  village  of  Tissington,  to  which 
indeed  it  appears  to  be  confined,  for  I 
have  not  met  with  any  thing  of  a  similar 
description  in  any  other  part  of  Derby- 
shire. It  is  denominated  tvell-Jloiver- 
ing,  and  Holy  Thursday  is  devoted  to  the 
rites  and  ceremonies  of  this  elegant  cus- 
tom. This  day  is  regarded>  as  a  festival ; 
and  all  the  wells  in  the  place,  five  in  num- 


639 


THE  EVERY- DAY  BOOK.— MA  t  4. 


640 


her,  are  decorated  with  wreaths  and  gar- 
.ands  of  newly-gathered  flowers,  disposed 
in  various  devices.  Sometimes  boards  are 
used,  which  are  cut  to  the  figure  intended 
to  be  represented,  and  covered  with  moist 
clay,  into  which  the  stems  of  the  flowers 
are  inserted  to  preserve  their  freshness; 
and  they  are  so  arranged  as  to  form  a 
beautiful  mosaic  work,  often  tasteful  in 
design,  and  vivid  in  colouring  :  the  boards, 
thus  adorned,  are  so  placed  in  the  spring, 
that  the  water  appears  to  issue  from 
amongst  beds  of  flowers.  On  this  occa- 
sion the  villagers  put  on  their  best  attire, 
and  open  their  houses  to  their  friends. 
There  is  service  at  the  church,  where  a 
sermon  is  preached:  afterwards  a  pro- 
cession takes  place,  and  the  wells  are 
visited  in  succession :  the  psalms  for  the 
day,  the  epistle  and  gospel  are  read,  one 
at  each  well,  and  the  whole  concludes 
with  a  hymn  which  is  sung  by  the  church 
singers,  and  accompanied  by  a  band  of 
music.  This  done,  they  separate,  and  the 
remainder  of  the  day  is  spent  in  rural 
sports  and  holiday  pastimes. 

The  custom  of  well-flowering  as  it  exists 
at  Tissington,  is  said  to  be  a  popish  re- 
lic; but  in  whatever  way  it  originated, 
one  would  regret  to  see  it  discontinued. 
That  it  is  of  great  antiquity  cannot 
be  disputed;  it  seems  to  have  existed 
at  different  periods  of  time,  in  coun- 
tries far  remote  from  each  other. 
In  the  earliest  ages  of  poetry  and  ro- 
mance, wherever  fountains  and  wells 
were  situated,  the  common  people  were 


accustomed  to  honour  them  with  the  till* 
of  saints.  In  our  own  country  innuiner. 
able  instances  occur  of  wells  being  so 
denominated."  "  Where  a  spring  rises  01 
a  river  flows,"  says  Seneca,  "  there  shou:d 
we  build  altars,  and  offer  sacrifices."  At 
the  fountain  of  Arethusa  in  Syracuse,  of 
which  every  reader  of  poetry  and  history 
has  often  heard,  great  festivals  were  cele- 
brated every  year.  In  Roman  antiquity 
the  fontmalia  were  religious  feasts,  held 
in  honour  of  the  nymphs  of  wells  and 
fountains ;  the  ceremony  consisted  in 
throwing  nosegays  into  fountains,  and 
putting  crowns  of  flowers  upon  wells. 
Many  authorities  might  be  quoted  in  sup- 
port of  the  antiquity  of  this  elegant  cus- 
tom, which  had  its  origin  anterior  to  the 
introduction  of  Christianity.  It  was  min- 
gled with  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the 
heathens,  who  were  accustomed  to  wor- 
ship streams  and  fountains,  and  to  suppose 
that  the  nymphs,  whom  they  imagined  the 
goddesses  of  the  waters,  presided  over 
them.  Shaw  in  his  "  History  of  the  Pro- 
vince of  Morray,"  says,  that  "heathen 
customs  were  much  practised  amongst  the 
people  there;"  and  he  cites  as  an  in- 
stance, "  that  they  performed  pilgrimages 
to  wells,  and  built  chapels  to  fountains." 
From  this  ancient  usage,  which  has  been 
continued  through  a  long  succession  of 
ages,  and  is  still  in  existence  at  Tissington, 
arose  the  practice  of  sprinkling  the  Severn 
and  the  rivers  of  Wales  with  flowers,  as 
alluded  to  by  Dyer  in  his  poem  of  the 
Fleece  and  by  Milton  in  his  Comus. — 


— . With  light  fantastic  toe  the  nymphs 

Thither  assembled,  thither  every  swain  ; 

And  o'er  the  dimpled  stream  a  thousand  flowers, 

Pale  lilies,  roses,  violets  and  pinks, 

Mixed  with  the  green  of  burnet,  mint,  and  thyme, 

And  trefoil,  sprinkled  with  their  sportive  arms  : 

Such  custom  holds  along  the  irriguous  vales, 

From  Wreakin's  brow  to  archy  Dolvoryn. 


Dyer 


-The  shepherds  at  their  festivals 


Carol  her  good  deeds  loud  in  rustic  lays, 

And  throw  sweet  garland  wreaths  into  her  stream, 

Of  pancies,  pinks,  and  gaudy  daffodils. 


Milton 


I  hope  some  of  your  correspondents  will     of  well-dressings   in  other  parts 
contribute  to  our  information  by  accounts     kingdom. 


•he 


641 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  5 


642 


SHAFTESBURY  "  BYZAMT." 

The  town  of  Shaftesbury  from  its  sit- 
uation on  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  is  entirely 
destitute  of  springs-;  except  at  the  foot  of 
the  hills  in  St.  James's  parish,  where  are 
two  wells,  in  the  possession  of. private 
persons.  At  the  foot  of  Castle-hill  were 
formerly  some  water-works,  to  supply  the 
town,  their  reservoir  was  on  the  top  of 
the  Butter  cross;  but  the  inhabitants  have 
from  time  immemorial  been  supplied 
with  water  brought  on  horse's  backs,  or 
on  people's  heads,  from  three  or  four 
large  wells,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below  the 
town  in  the  hamlet  of  Motcomb,  and 
parish  of  Gillingham  ;  on  which  account 
there  is  this  particular  custom  yearly  ob- 
served by  ancient  agreement,  dated  1 662, 
between  the  lord  of  the  manor  of  Gilling- 
ham, and  the  mayor  and  burgesses  of 
Shaftesbury.  The  mayor  is  obliged  the 
Monday  before  Holy  Thursday  to  dress 
up  a  prize  besom,  or  byzant,  as  they  call 
it,  somewhat  like  a  May  garland  in  form, 
with  gold  and  peacock's  feathers,  and 
carry  it  to  Enmore  Green,  half  a  mile 
below  the  town,  in  Motcomb,  as  an 
acknowledgment  for  the  water  ;  together 
with  a  raw  calfs  head,  a  pair  of  gloves, 
a  gallon  of  beer,  or  ale,  and  two  penny 
loaves  of  white  wheaten  bread,  which 
the  steward  receives,  and  carries  away  to 
his  own  use.  The  ceremony  being  over, 
the  "  byzant"  is  restored  to  the  mayor,  and 
brought  back  by  one  of  his  officers  with 
great  solemnity.  This  "  byzant"  is  gene- 
rally so  richly  adorned  with  plate  and 
jewels,  borrowed  from  the  neighbouring 
gentry,  as  to  be  worth  not  less  than 
1500*.* 


the  cart  was  diawn  by  mules  orna- 
mented with  bunches  of  flowers  and 
ribands  ;  a  number  of  people  stuck  over 
withflo\,ers  and  little  twigs  of  trees,  who 
were  called  the  "  wild  men,"  followed  the 
cart  and  closed  the  procession.  After 
parading  about  the  town  all  day,  towards 
evening  the  whole  company  repaired  to 
the  chapel  of  the  Blue  Penitents,  where  it 
was  met  by  the  chapter  of  the  cathedral, 
who  had  previously  also  gone  in  proces- 
sion round  the  town,  and  then  a  large 
quantity  of  bread  was  given  away  by  the 
chapter  among  the  poor. 

Another  part  of  the  ceremonies  of  the 
day  was,  that  the  peasants  from  the 
country  assembled  in  the  streets  with 
crooks  in  their  hands,  and  ranging  them- 
selves in  long  files  on  each  side,  made 
mock  skirmishes  with  their  crooks,  aiming- 
strokes  at  each  other,  and  parrying  them 
with  great  dexterity.  Each  of  these 
skirmishes  ended  with  a  dance  to  the  fife 
and  tabourine.  The  inhabitants  threw 
sugar-plums  and  dried  fruits  at  each 
other  from  their  windows,  or  as  they 
passed  in  the  streets. 

The  day  usually  concluded  by  a  fa- 
vourite dance  among  the  young  men  and 
women,  called  la  danse  des  treilles.  Every 
dancer  carried  a  cerceau,  as  it  is  called, 
that  is  a  half  hoop,  twined  with  vine 
branches ;  and  ranging  themselves  in 
long  files  on  each,  side  of  the  street, 
formed  different  groups.  The  young 
men  were  all  dressed  in  white  jackets 
and  trowsers,  and  the  young  women  in 
white  jackets  with  short  petticoats,  and 
ornaments  of  flowers  and  ribands.  These 
sports  of  Beziers  were  suspended  during 
the  revolution.* 


"PROCESSION  OF  THE  CAMEL. 

Holy  Thursday  was  formerly  a  day  of 
great  festivity  at  Beziers,  in  France,  and 
was  celebrated  with  a  variety  of  little 
sports. 

"  The  Procession  of  the  Camel"  consti- 
tuted one  part  of  them.  A  figure  repre- 
senting that  animal,  with  a  man  in  the 
inside,  was  made  to  perform  ridi- 
culous tricks.  The  municipal  officers, 
attended  by  the  companies  of  the  dif- 
ferent trades  and  manufactures,  preceded 
the  camel.  It  was  followed  by  a  cart, 
over  which  were  branches  of  trees  twined 
into  an  arbour,  filled  with  people  : 


*  Hutchins's  Dorset. 
VOL.  TL— 73. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  52  .  77. 


11  A  PARTICULAR  FACT/ 
THE  INDEXES,  &c.  to  the  EVERY-DAY 
BOOK,  VOL.  I.  were  .published  on  the  5th 
of  May,  1826. 

The  new  preface  to  the  volume  is  par- 
ticularly addressed  to  the  notice  of  cor- 
respondents,  and  I  shall  be  particularly 
obliged  if  every  reader  of  the  work  will 
favour  it  with  attentive  perusal. 

*  Miss  Plumptre. 


643 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  5. 


644 


CHRONOLOGY. 

It  should  be  observed  of  Joseph  Baretti, 
who  died  on  this  day  in  the  year  1789, 
that  he  was  the  friend  and  associate  of 
Johnson,  who  introduced  him  to  the 
Thrale  family,  and  whom  he  assisted  in 
the  compilation  of  his  "  Dictionary  of  the 
English  Language." 

Baretti  was  a  native  of  Turin ;  he  had 
received  a  good  education,  and  inherited 
paternal  property,  which  in  his  youth  he 
soon  gambled  away,  and  resorted  to  a 
livelihood  by  teaching  Italian  to  some 
English  gentlemen  at  Venice ;  whence  he 
repaired  to  England,  and  distinguished 
himself  as  a  teacher  of  Italian.  By  his 
employment  under  Dr.  Johnson,  he  ac- 
quired such  a  knowledge  of  our  language 
as  to  be  enabled  to  compile  the  "  Italian 
and  English  Dictionary, '  which  is  still  in 
use.  He  then  revisited  his  native  coun- 
try, and  after  an  absence  of  six  years  re- 
turned through  Spain  and  Portugal,  and 
in  1768  published  "  An  Account  of  the 
Manners  and  Customs  of  Italy,"  in  reply 
to  some  querulous  strictures  on  that  coun- 
try in  the  "  Letters  from  Italy''  by  surgeon 
Sharp,  which  Baretti's  book  effectually 
put  down,  with  no  small  oortion  both  of 
humour  and  argument.  Not  long  after- 
wards, he  was  accosted  in  the  Hay  market 
by  a  woman,  whom  he  repulsed  with  a 
degree  of  roughness  which  was  resented 
by  her  male  confederates,  and  in  the 
scuffle,  he  struck  one  of  them  with  a 
French  pocket  desert  knife.  On  this,  the 
man  pursued  and  collared  him ;  when 
Baretti,  still  more  alarmed,  stabbed  him 
repeatedly  with  the  knife,  of  which  wounds 
he  died  on  the  following  day.  He  was 
immediately  taken  into  custody,  and  tried 
for  murder  at  the  Old  Bailey,  when  John- 
son, Burke,  Goldsmith,Garrick,  Reynolds, 
and  Beauclerk  g?ve  testimony  to  his  good 
character  ;  and  although  he  did  not  escape 
censure  for  his  too  ready  resort  to  a  knife, 
he  was  acquitted.  Domesticated  in  the 
Thrale  family,  he  accompanied  them  and 
Dr.  Johnson  to  Paris,  but  in  a  fit  of  un- 
reasonable disgust,  quitted  them  the  next 
year;  and  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life 
was  harassed  with  pecuniary  difficulties, 
which  were  very  little  alleviated  by  his 
honorary  post  of  foreign  secretary  to  the 
Royal  Academy,  and  an  ill-paid  pension 
of  eighty  pounds  per  annum  under  the 
Nortn  administration.  Among  other 
works  he  published  one  with  the  singular 
title  of  "  Tolondron  :  Speeches  to  John 
Bowles  about  his  edition  of  Don  Quixote, 


together  with  some  account  of  Spanish 
Literature."  This  was  his  last  production  ; 
his  constitution  was  broken  by  uneasiness 
of  mind  and  frequent  attacks  of  the  gout, 
and  he  died  in  May,  1789. 

Baretti  was  rough  and  cynical  in  ap- 
pearance, yet  a  pleasant  companion  ;  and 
of  his  powers  in  conversation  Johnson 
thought  very  highly. 

He  communicated  several  of  Dr.  John* 
son's  letters  to  the  "  European  Magazine,' 
and  intended  to  publish  several  more  ;  bu*. 
on  his  decease  his  papers  fell  into  the 
hands  of  ignorant  executors,  who  barbar- 
ously committed  them  to  the  flames.* 

It  is  remarkable  that  with  Johnson's 
scrupulous  attachment  to  the  doctrines  and 
ceremonies  of  the  church  of  England,  he 
was  sincerely  attached  to  Baretti,  whose 
notions  on  religious  matters  widely  dif- 
fered from  the  opinions  of  "  the  great 
lexicographer."  Johnson  seems  to  have 
been  won  by  his  friend's  love  of  literature 
and  independence  of  character.  Baretti 
often  refused  pecuniary  aid  when  it  was 
greatly  needed  by  his  circumstances  :  his 
morals  were  pure,  and  his  conduct,  except 
in  the  unhappy  instance  which  placed  his 
life  in  jeopardy,  was  uniformly  correct. 
He  died  with  the  reputation  of  an  honest 
man. 


There  is  an  engraving  representing 
Diogenes  at  noon-day  with  his  lantern 
in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  a  circular 
picture  frame,  which  is  left  vacant,  that  a 
purchaser  of  the  print  may  insert  the 
portrait  of  the  man  he  delights  to  honour 
as  the  most  honest.  Hence  the  vacancy 
is  sometimes  supplied  by  the  celebrated 
John  Wilkes,  the  prophetic  Richard 
Brothers,  the  polite  lord  Chesterfield, 
Churchill,  the  satirist,  Sam  House,  or 
Joseph  Baretti,  or  any  other.  "  Cornelius 
May,"  of  whose  existence,  however,  there 
is  reason  to  doubt,  would  scarcely  find  a 
head  to  grace  the  frame. 

"  POETRY." 

"  The  Knaverie  of  the  Worlde,  sette  forthe  m 
homelic  verse,  by  Cornelius  May"  front 
"  The  Seven  Starrs  of  Witte,"  1647- 

Ah  me  throughoute  the  worldc 

Doth  wickednesse  abounde  ! 
And  well  I  wot  on  neither  hande 

Can  honestie  be  founde. 


*  General  Biog.  Dicv. 


645 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  6. 


643 


The  wisest  man  in  Athens 

Aboute  the  citie  ran 
With  a  lunthorne  in  the  light  of  daie 

To  find  an  honeste  man  ; 

And  when  at  night  he  sate  him  downe 

To  reckon  on  his  gaines, 
He  onely  founde — alack  poore  man  ! 

His  labour  for  his  paines. 
And  soe  thou  now  shalt  fir.de 

Alle  men  of  alle  degree 
Striving,  as  if  their  onely  trade 

Were  that  of  cheating  thee. 

Thy  friend  will  bid  thee  welcome, 

His  servantes  at  thy  calle — 
The  dearest  friend  he  has  on  earthe 

Till  he  has  wonne  thy  alle  ; 
He  will  play  with  thee  at  dice 

Till  thy  golde  is  in  his  hande, 
He  will  meete  thee  at  the  tennis  court 

Till  he  winne  alle  thy  lande. 

The  brother  of  thy  youth 

When  ye  shared  booke  and  bedde 
Would  eat  himself  the  sugar  plums 

And  leave  thee  barley  bread  : 
But  growing  up  to  manhode 

His  hart  is  colder  grown, 
Aske  in  thy  neede  for  barley  bread 

And  he'll  give  thee  a  stone, 

The  wife  whom  thou  dost  blesse 

Alack ,  she  is  thy  curse— 
A  bachelor's  an  evil  state, 

But  a  married  man's  is  worse. 

The  lawyer  at  his  deske 

Good  lawe  will  promise  thee 
Untill  thy  very  last  groat 

Is  given  for  his  fee. 
Thy  baker,  and  thy  brewer 

Doe  wronge  thee  night  and  morne  ; 
And  thy  miller,  he  doth  grinde  thee 

In  grinding  of  thy  corne. 

Thy  goldsmith  and  thy  jeweller 
Are  leagu'd  in  knavish  sorte, 

And  the  elwande  of  thy  tailor 
It  is  an  inche  too  shorte. 


Thy  cooke  hath  made  thy  dish 
From  the  offals  on  the  shelfe, 

While  fishe  and  fowle  and  savourie  herbes 
Are  served  to  himselfe. 

The  valet  thou  dost  trust, 

Smooth-tongued  and  placid-faced, 
Dothe  weare  thy  brilliantes  in  his  cappc 

And  thou  wear'st  his  of  paste. 

Alack  !  thou  canst  not  finde 

Of  high  or  lowe  degree 
In  cott  or  courte  or  cabinett 

A  man  of  honestie. 

There  is  not  in  the  worlde, 

Northe,  southe,  or  easte,  or  weste, 
Who  would  tnaintaine  a  righteous  cause 

Against  his  interest©. 

Ah  me  !  it  grieves  me  sore, 

And  I  sorrowe  nighte  and  daie, 

To  see  how  man's  arch  enemie 
Doth  leade  his  soule  astraie. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR, 
Mean  Temperature  ...  53  •  22. 


BIRDS. 

The  bird-catchers  are  now  peering 
about  the  fields  and  thickets  in  search  of 
different  species  of  song-birds,  for  the 
purpose  of  netting  and  training  them  for 
sale. 


Old  bird-fanciers  treat  the  younger  ones 
with  disdain,  as  having  corrupted  the 
rich  melodies  of  the  birds,  by  battling 
them  against  each  other,  in  singing 
matches,  for  strength  of  pipe. 


For  (he  Every-Day  Book. 

SONNET, 

Written  on  hearing  my  Blackbird,   while  confined  to  my  Bed  by  Illness. 
Bird  of  the  golden  beak,  thy  pensive  song 

Floats  visions  of  the  country  to  my  mind  ; 
And  sweet  sounds  heard  the  pleasant  woods  among, 

I  hear  again,  while  on  my  bed  reclined. 
Weaken'd  in  frame,  and  harass'd  by  my  kind, 

I  long  for  fair-green  fields  and  shady  groves, 
Where  dark-eyed  maids  their  brows  with  wild  flowers  bind, 

And  rosy  health  with  meditation  roves. 


647 


4pril\&,  1826. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  7,  8. 

Sing  on,  my  bird — as  in  thy  native  tree, 
Sing  on — and  I  will  close  my  burning  eyes, 

Till  in  my  fav'rite  haunts  again  I  be. 
And  sweetest  music  on  my  ears  arise ; 

And  waving  woods  their  shades  around  me  elose, 

And  sounds  of  waters  lull  me  to  repose. 


61* 


S.  R.  J. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR 

Mean  Temperature  ...  54  •  57. 


THE  SEASON. 
Thunny  Fishing. 

The  Mediterranean  produces  many 
sorts  of  fish  unknown  to  us,  the  thunny 
among  others.  The  manner  in  which 
these  fish  are  caught  is  somewhat  curious  ; 
it  is  a  sort  of  hunting  at  sea.  The  nets 
are  extended  in  the  water  so  as  to  close 
upon  the  fish  when  they  come  within 
reach  of  them,  and  then  the  boats  chase 
them  to  that  part  where  they  are  taken  : 
they  have  great  force  in  their  tails,  so  that 
much  caution  is  required  in  getting  them 
aboard.  Vernet  among  his  other  sea- 
pieces  has  a  very  good  one  of  this  fishery. 
There  are  four  principal  places  near  Mar- 
seilles where  it  is  carried  on,  called  the 
vnadragues,  which  are  rented  out  to  the 
fishers,  by  the  town,  at  a  considerable 
advantage.  When  Louis  XIII.  visited 
Marseilles  in  1662,  he  was  invited  to  a 
thunny  fishing  at  the  principal  madrague 
of  Morgion,  and  found  the  diversion  so 
much  to  his  taste,  that  he  often  said  it  was 
the  pleasantest  day  he  had  spent  in  his 
whole  progress  through  the  south. 

The  thunnies  come  in  such  shoals,  that 
in  the  height  of  the  season,  that  is,  in  the 
months  of  May  and  June,  from  five  to  six 
hundred  are  sometimes  taken  in  a  day  at 
one  madrague  only  :  they  commonly 
weigh  from  about  ten  to  twenty  or  twenty- 
five  pounds  each,  but  they  have  been 
known  to  weigh  even  as  much  as  fifty 
pounds.  Th£y  are  very  delicious  food, 
but  the  flesh  is  so  solid  that  it  seems 
something  between  fish  and  meat  ;  it  is 
cxS  firm  as  sturgeon,  but  beyond  all  com- 
parison finer  flavoured.  They  dress  this 
foh  in  France  in  a  great  variety  of  ways, 
and  always  excellent:  it  makes  capital 
soup,  or  it  is  served  as  a  ragout,  or 
plain  fried  or  broiled  ;  pies  are  made  of 
it,  which  are  so  celebrated  as  to  be  sent 


all  over  France ;  they  will  keep  good  ibr 
six  weeks  or  two  months.  There  is  also 
a  way  of  preserving  it  to  keep  the  whole 
year  round  with  salt  and  oil,  called  than 
marine :  this  is  eaten  cold,  as  we  eat 
pickled  salmon,  and  is  delicious.  Be- 
sides the  great  season  in  May  and  June, 
they  are  caught  in  considerable  numbers 
in  the  autumn,  about  November,  which  is 
the  great  season  for  making  the  pies.  A 
large  quantity  of  them  were  sent  to  Paris 
against  Buonaparte's  coronation.  Strag- 
glers of  these  fish  are  occasionally  taken 
the  whole  year  round.  They  are  an  ugly 
fish  to  the  eye. 

The  palamede,  though  much  smaller 
than  the  thunny,  seems  so  much  of  the 
same  nature  that  some  persons  have  sup- 
posed it  only  the  young  thunny  ;  but  na- 
turalists say  that  it  is  a  distinct  species  of 
fish.  It  is  mentioned  by  Gibbon  in  his 
description  of  Constantinople,  as,  at  the 
time  of  the  foundation  of  that  city,  the 
most  celebrated  among  the  variety  of 
excellent  fish  taken  in  the  Propontis.* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  54  •  70. 


8. 


"THE  FURRY." 
For  the  Every  -Day  Book. 
On  the  eighth  of  May,  at  Helston,  in  Corn- 
wall, is  held  what  is  called  "the  Furry." 
The  word  is  supposed  by  Mr.  Polwhele 
to  have  been  derived  from  the  old  Cornish 
word/er,  a  fair  or  jubilee.  The  morning 
is  ushered  in  by  the  music  of  drums  and 
kettles,  and  other  accompaniments  of  a 
song,  a  great  part  of  which  is  inserted  in 
Mr.  Polwhele's  history,  where  this  cir- 
cumstance is  noticed.  So  strict  is  the 
observance  of  this  day  as  a  general 
holiday,  that  should  any  person  be  found 
at  work,  he  is  instantly  seized,  set  astride 
on  a  pole,  and  hurried  on  men's  shoulders 

*  MiM  Plumptre. 


649 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  8. 


650 


to  the  river,  where  he  is  sentenced  to 
leap  over  a  wide  place,  which  he  of  course 
fails  in  attempting,  and  leaps  into  the 
water.  A  small  contribution  towards 
the  good  cheer  of  the  day  easily  com- 
pounds for  the  leap.  About  nine  o'clock 
the  revellers  appear  before  the  grammar- 
school,  and  demand  a  holiday  for  the 
schoolboys.  After  which  they  collect 
contributions  from  house  to  house.  They 
then  fade  into  the  country,  (fade  being  an 
old  English  word  for  go,')  and,  about  the 
middle  of  the  day,  return  with  flowers 
and  oak  branches  in  their  hats  and  caps. 
From  this  time  they  dance  hand  in  hand 
through  the  streets,  to  the  sound  of  the 
fiddle,  playing  a  particular  tune,  running 
into  every  house  they  pass  without  oppo- 
sition. In  the  afternoon,  a  select  party 
of  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  make  a  pro- 
gress through  the  street,  and  very  late  in 
the  evening  repair  to  the  ball-room.  A 
stranger  visiting  the  town  on  the  eighth  of 
May,  would  really  think  the  people  mad ; 
so  apparently  wild  and  thoughtless  is  the 
rrerriment  of  the  day. 

There  is  no  doubt  of  "  the  Furry"  ori- 
ginating from  the  "  Floralia,"  anciently 
observed  by  the  Romans  on  the  fourth  of 
the  calends  of  May.* 


"  Every  pot  has  two  handles."  This 
means  "  that  one  story's  good,  till  ano- 
ther story's  told ;"  or,  "  there  is  no  evil 
without  its  advantages." 

If  it  is  generally  "  good"  to  anticipate 
festival  days  in  the  Every-Day  Book,  it 
is  an  "  evil"  to  be  "  behind-hand ;"  and 
yet  "  advantages"  have  sometimes  re- 
sulted from  it.  For  instance,  the  day  of 
"  the  Furry'  at  Helston,  elapsed  before 
this  sheet  was  sent  to  press ;  but  a  cor~ 
respondent  who  was  present  at  the  festival 
on  that  day  in.  the  present  year,  1826, 
sends  an  account  of  the  manner  where- 
in it  is  conducted  at  present ;  and 
though  the  former  "  story's  good,"  his 
particular  description  of  thie  last  Furry, 
is  a  lively  picture  of  the  pleasant  manner, 
wherein  it  continues  to  be  celebrated : 
thus  is  illustrated  the  ancient  saying,  that 
"  eveiy  pot  has  two  handles." 

It  would  be  ill  acknowledgment  of  the 
annexed  letter  to  abridge  it,  by  omitting 
its  brief  notice  of  the  origin  of  the  Furry, 
already  adverted  to,  and  therefore  the 
whole  is  inserted  verbatim. 


*  Guide  to  Mount's  Bay. 


HELSTON  "  FURRY,  or  FLORA  DAT." 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Bosk. 

Sir, — Having  for  several  years  past 
resided  in  Cornwall,  (from  whence  I  have 
lately  returned,)  I  beg  to  inform  you  of 
one  of  their  gayest  days  of  amusement, 
which  is  regularly  kept  up  in  the  borough 
of  Helston  on  the  eighth  day  of  May. 

It  originated  from  the  Roman  custom 
of  paying  an  eaily  tribute  of  respect  to 
the  goddess  Flora ;  the  garlands  of 
flowers  worn  on  the  occasion  confirms  this 
opinion.  This  festival  commences  at  an 
early  hour :  the  morning  is  enlivened  by 
the  sound  of  "  drum  and  fife  ;"  and  music, 
harmony,  and  dance  are  the  sports  of 
u  high  and  low" — «'  from  morn  to  night." 
Some  of  the  oldest  townsmen  chant  some 
ancient  ditties — not  very  comprehensible, 
"  nor  is  the  melody  thereof  enchanting." 

The  hilarity  of  the  day  precludes  the 
possibility  of  doing  business  ;  every  con- 
sideration but  mirth,  music,  and  feasting 
is  set  at  naught.  Should  any  persons  be 
found  at  work,  they  are  instantly  seized, 
set  astride  on  a  pole,  and  jolted  away  on 
men's  shoulders,  amidst  thousands  of  huz- 
zas, &c.,  and  at  last  sentenced  to  leap 
over  the  river,  (which  by  the  by  is  none 
of  the  narrowest,).the  result  which  therefore 
frequently  happens  is — they  jump  into  it* 
The  payment  of  a  certain  fine  towards  the 
expenses  of  the  day  saves  them  from  this 
cooling. 

At  nine  in  the  morning  the  mob  gathers 
round  the  various  seminaries,  and  count- 
less voices  demand  a  holiday  for  all  in 
them,  which  is  acceded  to  :  a  collection 
from  the  housekeepers  is  then  commenced 
towards  the  general  fund.  While  this  is 
going  on,  the  young  folks  of  both  sexes  go 
to  the  gardens  of  the  neighbourhood,  and 
return  at  twelve  with  their  heads  dressed 
out  with  gay  flowers,  oak  branches,  &c. 
On  entering  the  town  they  are  joined  by 
a  band  of  music ;  they  dance  through  the 
streets  to  the  "  Flora  Tune."  In  theit 
progress  they  go  through  every  house  and 
garden  they  please  without  distinction  ; 
all  doors  are  opened,  and,  in  fact,  it  is 
thought  much  of  by  the  householders  to 
be  thus  favoured. 

The  older  branch  of  the  population 
dance  in  the  same  manner,  for  it  is  to  be 
noticed  they  have  select  parties,  and  at 
different  hours ;  no  two  sets  dance  toge- 
ther, or  at  the  same  time.  Then  follows 
the  gentry,  which  is  really  a  very  pli  asms? 
sight  on  a  fine  day  from  the  noted  respect- 


651 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— MAY  9, 10. 


652 


ability  of  this  rich  borough.  In  this  set 
the  sons  and  daughters  of  some  of  the  first 
and  noblest  families  of  Cornwall  join. 
The  appearance  of  the  ladies  is  enchant- 
ing. Added  to  their  personal  charms,  in 
Ball-room  attire,  each  tastefully  adorned 
with  beautiful  spring  flowers,  in  her- 
self appears  to  the  gazer's  eye  a  Flora,  and 
leads  us  to  conceive  the  whole  a  scene 
from  fairy  land.  The  next  set  is,  the  sol- 
diers and  their  lasses ;  then  come  the 
tradesmen  and  their  wives;  journeymen 
and  their  sweethearts ;  and,  "  though  last 
not  least,"  the  male  and  female  servants 
in  splendid  livery ;  best  bibs  and  tuckers 
are  in  request,  and  many  pretty  brunettes 
are  to  be  found  in  their  Sunday  finery, 
with  healthy  smiling  looks,  which  on  such 
a  day  as  this  are  sure  to  make  sad  havoc 
with  the  hearts  of  the  young  men. 

In  the  evening  a  grand  ball  is  always 
held  at  the  assembly  rooms  ;  to  which, 
this  year,  were  added  the  performance  of 
the  "  Honey  Moon"  at  the  theatre,  by 
Dawson's  company  of  comedians,  Powell's 
celebrated  troop  of  horse  at  the  Circus, 
and  Mr.  Ingleby's  sleight  of  hand  at  the 
rooms.  The  borough  was  thronged  with 
visiters  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  It 
is  a  pleasing  task  to  conclude  by  being 
able  to  state,  that  Aurora  rose  on  the  ninth 
without  any  account  of  accident  or  dis- 
appointment being  experienced  by  any  of 
its  numerous  attendants.  I  have  many 
other  anecdotes  of  Cornwall,  which  I  shall 
forward  you  in  case  you  deem  them 
worthy  a  place  in  your  Every-Day  Book, 
to  which  I  wish  the  success  it  really  de- 
serves. I  am,  Sir, 

Your's  truly, 

SAM  SAM'S  SON. 

London,  May  16,  1826. 

\*  This  communication  was  almost 
past  the  time  ;  yet,  as  we  set  out  with  a 
proverb,  we  may  end  with  "  better  late 
than  never ;""  and,  * "  not  to  ride  a  free 
horse  to  death,"  but  merely  to  "  drive  the 
nail  that  will  go,"  thanks  are  offered  to 
"Sam  Sam's  Son,"  with  the  hope  of 
early  receiving  his  "  future  agreeable 
favours." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  ,  55  •  07. 

^lap  9. 

A  MATCH. 

A  New  York  paper  of  the  ninth  of  May, 
1817,   announces   that    in    Montgomery 


county,  Mr.  Jesse  Johnson,  being  eighteen 
or  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  four  feef 
one  inch  high,  and  weighing  about  seven- 
ty-five  pounds,  was  married  to  Miss 
Nancy  Fowler  about  twenty-six  or  twen- 
ty-seven years  of  age,  six  feet  two  inches 
high,  and  weighing  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds.  "  Sure  such  a  pair 
were  never  seen  " 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature ...  54-20 

10. 

JUSTICE. 

In  May,  1736,  Henry  Justice,  of  the 
Middle  Temple,  Esq.,  was  tried  at  the 
Old  Bailey,  for  stealing  books  out  of 
Trinity-college  library  in  Cambridge. 
He  attempted  to  defeat  the  prosecution 
by  pleading,  that  in  the  year  1734,  he 
was  admitted  fellow-commoner  of  the 
said  college,  whereby  he  became  a  member 
of  that  corporation,  and  had  a  property 
in  the  books,  and  therefore  could  not  be 
guilty  of  felony,  and  read  several  clauses 
of  their  charter  and  statutes  to  prove  it. 
But  after  several  hours'  debate,  it  appear- 
ed he  was  only  a  boarder  or  lodger,  by 
the  words  of  the  charter  granted  by  Henry 
VIII.  and  queen  Elizabeth.  He  was 
found  guilty. 

On  the  tenth  of  the  month,  having  been 
put  to  the  bar  to  receive  sentence,  he 
moved,  that  as  the  court  had  a  discre- 
tionary power,  he  might  be  burnt  in  the 
hand  and  not  sent  abroad ;  first,  for  the 
sake  of  his  family,  as  it  would  be  an  in- 
jury to  his  children  and  to  his  clients, 
with  several  of  whom  he  had  great  concerns, 
which  could  not  be  settled  in  that  time ; 
secondly,  for  the  sake  of  tire  university, 
for  he  had  numbers  of  books  belonging 
to  them,  some  in  friends'  hands,  and  some 
sent  to  Holland,  and  if  he  was  trans- 
ported he  could  not  make  restitution. 
As  to  himself,  considering  his  circum- 
stances, he  had  rather  go  abroad,  having 
lived  in  credit  till  this  unhappy  mistake, 
as  he  called  it,  and  hoped  the  university 
would  intercede  for  him.  The  deputy- 
recorder  commiserated  his  case,  told  him 
how  greatly  his  crime  was  aggravated  by 
his  education  and  profession,  and  then 
sentenced  him  to  be  transported  to  some 
of  his  majesty's  plantations  in  America 
for  seven  years. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  53  '  87. 


653 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  11. 


654 


11 


LONDON  GYMNASTIC  SOCIETY. 

The  establishment  of  this  institution 
is  of  so  great  importance  to  the  health 
and  manners  of  the  metropolis,  that  to 
pass  it  unregarded  would  be  inexcusable. 
Much  of  mental  infirmity  proceeds  from. 
bodily  infirmity.  Without  activity,  the 
entire  human  being  is  diseased.  A  dispo- 
sition to  inactivity  generates  imbecility 
of  character;  diligence  ceases,  indolence 
prevails,  unnatural  feelings  generate  un- 
natural desires,  and  the  individual  not 
only  neglects  positive  duties,  but  becomes 
sensual  and  vicious.  The  "  London 
Gymnastic  Society,"  therefore,  in  a  na- 
tional point  of  view  is  of  the  highest  re- 
gard. A  letter,  subjoined,  will  be  found 
to  represent  some  of  its  exercises  and 
advantages  in  an  agreeable  and  interesting 
manner. 


GYMNASTIC  EXERCISES. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — On  the  twenty-second  of  March, 
not  less  than  fifteen  hundred  persons 
assembled  at  the  Mechanics'  Institute 
for  the  purpose  of  forming  a. "  London 
Gymnastic  Society."  This  event  is 
likely  to  have  very  important  and 
useful  results  to  the  community,  and, 
therefore,  within  the  plan  of  the  Every- 
Day  Book  to  record.  I  have  no  inten- 
tion to  describe  what  passed  on  the  occa- 
sion, any  further  than  by  stating  that  a 
series  of  resolutions  in  support  of  the  pro- 
posed object  were  unanimously  adopted; 
and  as  great  misconception  prevails  as  to 
the  nature  of  gymnastic  exercises,  some 
light  on  the  subject,  beyond  that  conveyed 
in  your  first  volume,  may  be  interesting. 

The  grounds  on  which  the  use  of  exer- 
cise generally  are  recommended,  are  pre- 
cisely those  from  which  the  benefits  of 
this  particular  class  are  to  be  inferred; 
with  this  advantage  in  favour  of  gymnas- 
tics, that  they  combine  the  advantages  of 
almost  every  other  species.  If  it  be  de- 
sirable that  the  body  should  be  strength- 
ened, the  limbs  acquire  flexibility,  the 
muscles  be  brought  into  full  play,  and  the 
spirits  be  invigorated,  gymnastics  must  be 
allowed  to  be  salutary  for  such  are  their 
ordinary  effects.  Moreover,  if  it  be  desir- 
able that  a  man  snouid  become  acquaint- 
ed with  his  physical  capabilities,  in  order 
that  lie  may  be  encouraged  to  exert  them 


on  suitable  occasions,  within  the  compass 
of  safety,  and  be  aware  when  he  is  in 
danger  of  trespassing  beyond  the  proper 
limit,  gymnastics  must  be  beneficial,  for 
they  instruct  him  where  that  limit  lies, 
and  give  him  entire  confidence  within  it, 
And  so  gradual  are  the  steps  by  which 
the  pupil  is  led  on  towards  proficiency, 
now  mastering  a  small  difficulty,  then 
advancing  to  one  a  little  greater,  then  to 
another,  and  another,  that  at  last  he  ac- 
complishes the  evolution  which  at  one 
time  appeared  to  him  of  greatest  difficulty 
with  more  facility  than  he  at  first  accom- 
plished the  first  lesson ;  while  all  the 
time  he  has  been  acquiring  in  the  process 
increased  capability,  strength,  confidence, 
and  presence  of  mind.  For  the  utility  of 
these  exercises  does  not  end  in  the  gym- 
nasium ;  it  only  begins  there.  The  per- 
formances of  the  evolutions  are  means  by 
which  great  ends  are  attained  ;  the  vigour 
acquired  in  performing  them,  being  af  tr- 
wards  useful  wherever  vigour  may  be 
required. 

In  the  preliminary  exercises,  the  pupil 
is  taught  to  accustom  himself  to  extend 
his  arms  and  legs  in  various  natural  posi- 
tions, in  quick  succession ;  sometimes 
exerting  the  arms  only,  the  legs  resting 
passive,  sometimes  the  reverse;  and 
sometimes  exerting  both  legs  and  arms 
together.  These  exercises  are  not  so 
strictly  preliminary  as  to  require  the 
pupil  to  become  perfect  in  them  before  he 
engages  in  others.  On  the  contrary,  he 
may  with  advantage,  at  a  very  early  stage, 
combine  them  with  those  of  greater  diffi- 
culty ;  and  also  at  an  advanced  stage,  find 
it  useful  occasionally  to  recur  to  them 
But  let  us  proceed  to  the  bars. 

The  bars  consist  of  two  pieces  of  wood 
placed  parallel,  in  "a  horizontal  position, 
on  supporters,  extending  breast-high  from 
the  ground.  The  pupil  having  raised 
himself  erect  between  the  bars  (they  are 
something  less  than  two  feet  apart,  and 
about  five  feet  in  length)  passes  from  one 
end  to  the  other  by  the  help  of  his  hands 
only,  moving  one  hand  forward  at  a  time, 
as  the  feet  are  moved  in  walking.  He 
next  places  himself  in  the  centre  between 
the  bars,  and  keeping  his  legs  straight 
and  close  together  projects  them  over  the 
right  hand  bar,  and  so  arrives  on  the 
ground.  He  then  does  the  same  on  the 
left  side,  then  on  the  right  side  backwards, 
either  with  or  without  previously  swing- 
ing, then  on  the  left  side  backwards  in  the 
same  way.  He  next  resumes  his  position 


655 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK,— MA  V  11. 


656 


at  the  end  of  the  bars  ;  but  instead  of 
walking  or  treading  along  the  bars  with 
his  hands,  as  in  the  first  exercise,  he 
this  time  lifts  both  hands  together,  and 
passes  to  the  other  end  by  short  jumps. 
He  then  returns  to  the  centre  of  the  bars, 
and  retaining  hold  of  them,  projects  his 
body  over  the  left  hand  bar,  from  which 
position,  by  slightly  springing,  he  projects 
himself  over  that  on  his  right.  This  evo- 
lution he  performs  also  on  both  sides,  and 
later  in  his  progress  backwards  also.  Then 
there  is  the  half  moon,  or  semi-circle, 
which  is  performed  by  projecting  the  legs 
over  one  of  the  bars  in  front,  and  then 
bringing  them  back,  and  swinging  them 
over  the  same  bar  behind.  As  the  pupil 
advances,  he  is  enabled  to  project  himself 
over  the  bars  unassisted  by  the  lower 
part  of  his  arms ;  also  to  rest  the  lower 
part  of  his  arms  on  the  bars,  and  from 
that  position  to  raise  himself  erect  by 
the  hands  only,  repeating  the  evolution 
several  times  in  succession,  to  pass  from 
one  side  of  the  bar  to  the  other,  without 
touching  the  ground,  and  many  other 
evolutions  all  conducing  in  one  way  or 
another  to  the  strength  and  elasticity  of 
his  frame. 

The  horizontal  poles  are  placed  at  va- 
rious heights  from  the  ground,  according 
to  the  height  of  the  pupil,  and  the  exer- 
cises to  be  performed  on  them.  Those 
chiefly  used  are  a  few  inches  above  the 
head.  One  of  the  first  lessons  on  the 
pole  is  analogous  to  the  first  on  the 
parallel  bars,  the  pupil  passing  from  one 
end  of  the  pole  to  the  other,  by  the  help 
of  his  hands  only,  first  by  moving  one 
hand  at  a  time  as  in  walking,  afterwards 
by  moving  both  hands  together.  Grasp- 
ing the  pole  with  both  hands,  the  pupil 
is  taught  to  raise  himself  in  various  ways 
above  it — to  pass  over  it — to  pass  from 
one  side  of  the  pole  to  the  other,  &c.  &c. 
The  exercises  on  the  pole  are  equal  in 
diversity  to  those  on  the  bars,  perhaps  on 
the  whole  more  arduous,  and  certainly 
equally  beneficial.  I  believe  the  arms 
and  back  are  particularly  strengthened  by 
this  diversion  of  the  exercises. 

Leaving  the  pole,  let  us  attend  a  mo- 
ment to  the  masts,  the  ropes,  and  the 
ladders.  These  are  of  various  heights 
and  dimensions.  The  pupil  first  learns 
to  climb  the  rope  and  mast  by  the  assist- 
ance of  his  hands  and  feet,  afterwards  by 
his  hands  only,  and  by  degrees  he  learns 
to  ascend  the  lattet  without  the  assistance 
of  his  feet  or  legs.  The  leaping  with  and 


without  a  pole,  jumping,  running,  throw- 
ing the  javelin,  the  use  or  the  broad 
sword,  8cc.,  do  not  require  description  as 
they  are  more  or  less  familiar  to  every 
one.  I  therefore  confine  myself  to 
naming  them,  and  observing  that  familiar 
as  some  of  them  are,  the  regulations 
under  which  they  are  practised  tend 
greatly  to  increase  their  utility.* 

There  is  still  a  division  of  these  exer- 
cises which  I  have  not  mentioned,  and 
which  deserves  a  full  description,  and 
that  is,  the  exercises  on  the  horse — a 
wooden  horse — without  head  or  tail — 
but,  as  I  feel  myself  quite  unable  to  bear 
anything  like  adequate  testimony  to  the 
merits  of  this  very  useful  and  quiet 
quadruped,  I  must  reluctantly  leave  his 
eulogium  to  others  more  competent.  It 
is  a  subject  I  cannot  well  get  upon,  being 
but  a  very  indifferent  equestrian, 
remain,  Sir,  &c. 
A  PARALLEL  BARRISTER. 


To  all  individuals  of  sedentary  occujia- 
tions,  in  great  towns  and  cities,  gymnas- 
tic exercises  are  of  immense  benefit.  It 
is  difficult  to  convince,  but  it  is  a  duty 
to  attempt  persuading  them,  that  their 
usual  habjts  waste  the  spirits,  destroy 
health,  and  shorten  life.  Hundreds  of 
Londoners  die  every  year  for  want  of 
exercise. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  we  should  cul- 
tivate gymnastics  "  after  the  manner  of 
the  ancients,"  but  only  so  much/  as  may 
be  requisite  to  maintain  the  even  tenour  Oi 
existence.  The  state  of  society  in  towns, 
continually  imposes  obstructions  to 
health,  and  offers  inducements  to  the 
slothful,  in  the  shape  of  palliatives,  which 
ultimately  increase  "  the  miseries  of 
human  life."  Exercise  is  both  a  preven- 
tion and  a  remedy ;  but,  we  must  not 
mistake — diligence  is  not,  therefore,  exer- 
cise. 

Our  present  pastimes  are  almost  aL 
within  doors;  the  old  ones  were  in  the 
open  air.  Our  ancestors  danced  "  on 
the  green"  in  the  day  time;  we,  if  we 
dance  at  all,  move  about  in  warm 
rooms  at  night :  and  then  there  are  the 


*  The  information  relative  to  the  exercise  so 
crudely  conveyed  throughout  this  hasty  letter, 
is  derived  from  observation  of  the  gymnasium  in 
the  New  Road,  under  the  excellent  ronn;ige 
ment  of  professor  Voelker. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK MAY  12. 


658 


"  late  hours  ;"  the  "  making  a  toil  of  a 
pleasure  ;"  the  lying  in  ^ed  late  the  next 
morning ;  the  incapacity  to  perform 
duties  in  consequence  of  "  recreation  !" 
The  difference  to  health  is  immense — if  it 
be  doubted,  inquire  of  physicians.  The 
difference  to  morals  is  not  less — if  re- 


flection be  troublesome,  read  the  proceed- 
ings in  courts  of  justice,  and  then  reflect. 
We  have  much  to  unlearn. 

It  is  a  real  amusement  to  go  to  a 
theatre,  and  see  an  indolent  audience 
sitting  to  witness  feats  of  agility 


jftom  a  rare  Ofngratnng,  bp  an  unfenoton  8rtfet, 


Here  we  see  that  some  of  the  tricks 
and  dexterities  of  Mazurier  and  Gouffe 
were  performed  centuries  ago  ;  and  here, 
too,  we  have  an  illustration  that  the  hori- 
zontal  bars  of  our  correspondent,  the 
'*  Parallel  Barrister,"  though  novelties 
now,  were  known  before  our  grandfathers 


were  grandchildren.  The  print  from 
whence  this  is  copied,  is  from  sir  Mark 
Sykes's  collection  :  it  is  produced  here  a* 

a  curiosity.  « 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  54  •  74. 


12. 

THE  MONTH. 
Hail,  May  !  lovely  May  I  how  replenished  my  pails ! 

The  young  dawn  o'erspreads  the  broad  east,  streaked  with  gold  ! 
My  glad  heart  beats  time  to  the  laugh  of  the  vales, 

And  Golin's  voice  rings  through  the  .wood  from  the  fold. 
The  wood  to  the  mountain  submissively  bends, 

Whose  blue  misty  summit  first  glows  with  the  sun  ! 
See  !  thence  a  gay  train  by  the  wild  rill  descends 

To  join  the  mixed  sports  : — Hark  !  the  tumult's  begun. 

Be  cloudless,  ye  skies  ! — And  be  Colin  but  there ; 

Not  dew-spangled  bents  on  the  wide  level  dale, 
Nor  morning  s  first  smile  can  more  lovely  appear 

Than  his  looks,  since  my  wishes  I  cannot  conceal. 
Swift  down  the  mad  dance,  while  blest  heajth  prompts  to  move, 

We'll  court  joys  to  come,  and  exchange  vows  of  truth  : 
And  haply,  when  age  cools  the  transports  of  love, 

Decry,  like  good  folks,  the  vain  follies  of  youth.  Bloomfalu. 


659 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  13. 


660 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperatuie  ...  54  •  22. 


1826. 


13. 

Oxford  Terra  ends. 

OLD  MAY  DAY. 
Scottish  Beltein. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir,  —  I  confess  I  was  not  a  little  as- 
tonished a  few  days  ago,  on  becoming 
acquainted  with  a  custom  evidently 
heathenish  in  its  origin,  which  exists  in 
the  united  kingdom,  where,  it  must  be 
admitted,  great  advances  have  been  made 
in  morals  and  religion,  as  well  as  in 
science  and  general  knowledge. 

The  fact  I  allude  to  is  in  Dr.  Jamieson's 
"  Dictionary  of  the  Scottish  Language." 
He  mentions  a  festival  called  Beltane, 
or  Beltein,  annually  held  in  Scotland  on 
old  May-day.  A  town  in  Perthshire  is 
called  "  Tillee  Beltein  ;"  i.  e.  the  emi- 
nence (or  high  place)  of  the  fire  of  Baal. 
Near  this  are  two  druidical  temples  of 
upright  stones  with  a  well,  adjacent  to  one 
of  them,  still  held  in  great  veneration  for 
its  sanctity,  and  on  that  account  visited 
by  vast  numbers  of  superstitious  people. 
In  the  parish  of  Callander  (same  county) 
upon  "  Beltein  day,"  they  cut  a  circular 
trench  in  the  ground,  sufficient  to  enclose 
the  whole  company  assembled.  "They 
kindle  a  fire  and  dress  a  repast  of  eggs 
and  milk  in  the  consistence  of  a  custard  ; 
they  knead  a  cake  of  oatmeal,  which  is 
toasted  at  the  embers  against  a  stone." 
After  the  custard  is  eaten,  they  divide  the 
cake  into  as  many  equal  parts  as  there  are 
persons  present,  and  one  part  is  made 
perfectly  black  with  charcoal. 

The  bits  of  cake  are  put  into  a  bonnet 
and  are  drawn  blindfold,  and  he  who 
draws  the  black  bit  is  considered  as 
"  devoted  to  be  sacrificed  to  Baal,  and  is 
obliged  to  leap  three  times  through  the 
flame." 

Mr.  Pennant  in  his  "  Tour  in  Scotland, 
1769,"  gives  a  similar  account  with  vary- 
ing ceremonies. 

"  In  Ireland,"  says  Mr.  Macpherson, 
"  Beltein  is  celebrated  on  the  twenty-first 
of  June  at  the  time  of  the  solstice.  There  they 
make  fires  on  the  tops  of  the  hills,  and  every 
member  of  the  family  is  made  to  pass 
through  the  fire,  as  they  reckon  this  cere- 
mony to  ensure  good  fortune  during  t'.e 


succeeding  year.  This  resembles  the  rite 
used  by  the  Romans  in  Palilia." — "  Bel- 
tein (adds  Mr.  M.)  is  also  observed  in 
Lancashire," 

This  "  custom"  being  entirely  new  to 
me,  and  appearing  so  much  to  illustrate 
many  passages  in  the  Bible  which  refer 
to  the  idolatry  of  the  ancients,  I  forward 
it  to  you  agreeably  to  your  printed  invi- 
tation. 

I  am,  &c. 

J.  K.  S. 


STRAND  MAYPOLE. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — In  your  account  of  the  Maypole 
which  stood  in  the  Strand,  you  have  stated 
that  the  said  Maypole  upon  its  decay  was 
obtained  of  the  parish  by  sir  I.  Newton, 
and  placed  atWanstead  for  support  of  his 
telescope ;  but  in  the  preface  to  the  ninth 
edition  of  Derham's  <l  Astro-Theology," 
published  1750,  he  says,  "  And  now  for 
a  close  I  shall  take  this  opportunity  of 
publicly  owning,  with  all  honour  and 
thankfulness,  the  generous  offer  made  me 
by  some  of  my  friends,  eminent  in  their 
stations,  as  well  as  skill  and  abilities  in 
the  laws,  who  would  have  made  me  a 
present  of  the  Maypole  in  the  Strand, 
(which  was  to  be  taken  down,)  or  any 
other  pole  I  thought  convenient  for  the 
management  of  Mr.  Huygens's  glass ;  but 
as  my  incapacity  of  accepting  the  favour 
of  those  noble  Mecaenates  hath  been  the 
occasion  of  that  glass  being  put  into  bet- 
ter hands,  so  I  assure  myself  their  expect- 
ations are  abundantly  answered  by  the 
number  and  goodness  of  the  observations 
that  have  been  and  will  be  made  there- 
with." 

As  you  will  perceive  by  the  expression 
"  which  was  to  be  taken  down,"  it  must 
have  been  standing  at  the  time  of  publica- 
tion of  his  book,  and  as  sir  I:  Newton 
died  in  1726,  the  "compilation"  from 
which  you  extracted  your  account  must  be 
erroneous.  The  name  of  the  philosopher 
to  whom  the  glass  belonged,  you  will  also 
perceive  to  be  misspelled.  I  should  not 
have  troubled  you  with  these  trifling  cor- 
rections, but  as  I  am  sure  your  admirable 
work  will  pass  through  many  editions,  you 
may  not  in  the  future  ones  refuse  to  make 
the  alteration. 

I  am,  Sir, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

May  17,  1826.  J   S. 


661 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  13. 


662 


I  am  obliged  to  J.  S.  for  his  endeavour 
to  rectify  what  he  deems  an  error  ;  but  it 
rather  corroborates  than  invalidates  the 
fact  stated  in  vol.  i.  p.  560,  on  the  au- 
thority of  the  work  there  referred  to. 

J.  S.  quotes  "  the  ninth  edition  of  Der- 
ham's  « Astro-Theology,'  published  1750," 
and  infers  that  the  Strand  Maypole  "  must 
have  been  standing  at  the  time  of  publish- 
ing his  book ;''  and  so  it  was ;  but  it  was 
no  more  in  being  when  the  "  ninth  edi- 
tion" of  his  book  was  published,  than  Der- 
ham  himself  was,  who  died  in  1735.  The 
first  edition  of  "  his  book"  was  published 
in  1714,  and  Derham  then  wrote  of  it  as 
then  standing,  and  the  citation  of  J.  S. 
shows  that  it  was  then  contemplated  to 

g'esent   Derham  with  the  Maypole  for 
uygens's   glass,  which  from   "  incapa- 
city" he  could  not  accept,  and  was  there- 


fore the  occasion  of  the  glass  "  being  put 
into  better  hands."  These  "  better  hands* 
were  sir  Isaac  Newton's;  the  object 
of  the  intended  present  of  the  Maypole 
to  Derham  was  for  Huygens's  glass ;  and  it 
is  reasonable  to  believe  that  as  sir  Isaac 
had  the  glass,  so  also  he  had  the  May- 
pole to  appropriate  to  the  purpose  of  the 


Nevertheless,  though  I  think  J.  S.  has 
failed  in  proving  my  authority  to  be  erro- 
neous, and  that  he  himself  is  mistaken,  I 
repeat  that  I  am  obliged  by  his  intention ; 
and  I  add,  that  I  shall  feel  obliged  to  any 
one  who  will  take  the  trouble  of  pointing 
out  any  eiior.  I  aim  to  be  accurate,  and 
can  truly  say  that  it  costs  me  more  time 
to  establish  the  facts  I  adduce,  than  to 
write  and  arrange  the  materials  after  I 
have  convinced  myself  of  their  authority. 


THE  MONTH. 
May  Morning. 

But  who  the  melodies  of  morn  can  tell  ? 
The  wild  brook  babbling  down  the  mountain  side  ; 
The  lowing  herd ;  the  sheepfold's  simple  bell ; 
The  pipe  of  early  shepherd  dim  descried 
In  the  lone  valley ;  echoing  far  and  wide 
The  clamorous  horn  along  the  cliffs  above  ; 
The  hollow  murmur  of  the  ocean  tide  ; 
And  the  full  choir  that  wakes  the  universal  grove. 

The  cottage  curs  at  early  pilgrim  bark  ; 
Crown'd  with  her  pail  the  tripping  milk-maid  sings  ; 
The  whistling  ploughman  stalks  afield  ;  and,  hark  ! 
Down  the  rough  slope  the  ponderous  waggon  rings  ; 
Through  rustling  corn  the  hare  astonished  springs  ; 
Slow  tolls  the  village  clock  the  drowsy  hour  ; 
The  partridge  bursts  away  on  whin-ing  wings  ; 
Deep  mourns  the  turtle  in  sequestered  bower ; 
The  shrill  lark  carols  clear  from  her  aerial  tow'r. 


May  Evening. 

Sweet  was  the  sound  when  oft  at  evening's  close, 

By  yonder  hill  the  village  murmur  rose  ; 

There,  as  I  passed  with  careless  steps  and  slow, 

The  mingling  notes  came  softened  from  below  ; 

The  swain  responsive  as  the  milk-maid  sung, 

The  sober  herd  that  lowed  to  meet  their  young, 

The  noisy  geese  that  gabbled  o'er  the  pool, 

The  playful  children  just  let  loose  from  school, 

The  watch -dog's  voice  that  bayed  the  whispering  wind, 

And  the  loud  laugh  that  spoke  the  vacant  mind, 

These  all  in  sweet  confusion  sought  the  shade, 

And  filled  each  pause  the  nightingale  had  made. 


Gcldnnith. 


NATURALISTS7    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  54  •  12. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.- MA  IT  14 


664 


1826.     WHITSUNDAY. 

l*his  is  the  annual  commemoration  of 
the  feast  of  Pentecost.  In  the  catholic 
times  of  England  it  was  usual  to  drama- 
tise the  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the 
churches ;  and  hence  we  have  Barnaby 
Googe's  rhymes  : — 

On  Whitsunday  whyte  pigeons  tame 

in  strings  from  heauen  flie, 
And  one  that  framed  is  of  wood 

still  hangeth  in  the  skie. 
Thou  seest  how  they  with  idols  play, 

and  teach  the  people  too  ;. 
None  otherwise  then  little  gyrles 

with  pvppets  vse  to  do. 

Naogeorgus. 

These  celebrations  are  noticed  in  vol.  i. 
r*  685. 

Whitsunday  Accident. 
ST.  ANTHONY'S  CHURCH,  CORNWALL. 

In  an  old  tract  printed  against  church 
ceremonies  during  "  the  troubles  of  Eng- 
land," there  is  an  account  of  "  fearfull 
judgements  that  God  hath  shewed  upon 
churches,"  one  whereof  is  alleged  by 
the  puritan  author  to  have  been  mani- 
fested on  this  day.  His  account  is 
curious,  and  the  fact  being  historical,  is 
here  related  in  his  own  words,  viz. 

On  Whitsunday  last,  1640,  in  the 
parish  of  Anthony  in  Cornwall,  when 
people  were  kneeling  at  the  Communion, 
great  claps  of  thunder  were  heard,  as 
though  divers  Cannons  had  been  shot  off 
at  once,  and  extraordinary,  and  most  fear- 
full  flashes  of  Lightnings,  and  a  terrible  and 
unspeakable  strange  sound,  to  the  great 
amazement  of  the  people ;  and  when  the 
Minister  was  turning  towards  the  Com- 
munion Table,  to  give  the  Cup,  after  he 
had  given  the  Bread,  he  saw  (to  his  think- 
ing) a  flaming  fire  about  his  body,  and 
withall,  heard  a  terrible  and  unspeakable 
sound,  and  had  no  hurt,  save  that  the 
outside  of  one  of  his  legs  was  scalded : 
presently  after,  divers  balls  of  fire  came 
into  the  Church  and  struck  one  Ferdi- 
nando  Reepe  on  the  sole  of  his  left  foot, 
with  such  a  violence,  as  he  thought  his 
foot  had  been  split  in  pieces,  and  was  for 
a  while  deprived  of  his  senses  :  One  John 
Hodge  was  stricken  in  the  knees  and 
thighs,  and  lower  parts  of  his  body,  so  as 
he  thought  «rery  part  of  his  body  to  be 


unjoynted :  One  Dorothy  Tubbe  was 
stricken  so,  as  she  thought  her  legs  and 
knees  were  struck  off  from  her  body : 
One  Anthony  Peeke  was  fearfully  struck 
in  all  the  lower  parts  of  his  body,  and 
thought  that  he  had  been  shot  thorow, 
and  was  lift  up  from  kneeling,  and  set 
upon  the  form  by  which  hee  kneeled : 
One  Susan  Collins  was  struck  in  the 
lower  parts  of  her  body,  so  as  it  seemed 
to  her,  to  be  struck  off  from  the  upper 
part,  and  was  scalded  on  the  wrist  of  the 
right  hand  :  A  great  fire,  far  redder  then 
any  lightning,  came  into  the  Church,  and 
struck  one  Nicholas  Shelton  on  both  sides 
of  his  head,  as  though  he  had  been  struck 
with  two  flat  stones,  and  did  shake  his 
body,  as  though  it  would  shake  it  in  pieces, 
whereby  he  lost  his  sight  and  his  senses  : 
One  Roger  Nile  was  struck  on  the  back- 
bone, on  the  right  side,  and  on  the  anckle 
on  the  inside  of  his  left  leg,  so  as  for  a 
while,  he  was  not  able  to  stand;  after  the 
fire,  there  was  heard  in  the  Church,  as  it 
were,  the  hissing  of  a  great  shot;  and 
after  that  a  noise,  as  though  divers  Can- 
nons had  been  shot  off  at  once,  to  make 
one  single  and  terrible  report ;  the  noise 
did  not  descend  from  above,  but  was 
heard,  and  seemed  to  begin  close  at  the 
Northside  of  the  Communion  Table: 
After  this  fire  and  noise,  then  followed  a 
loathsome  smell  of  Gunpowder  and  Brim- 
stone, and  a  great  smoak.  The  Church 
had  no  harm,  save  that  seven  or  eight 
holes  and  rents  were  made  in  the  wall  of 
the  Steeple,  some  on  the  inside,  and  some 
on  the  outside;  impressions  on  the  stones 
in  divers  places,  as  if  they  were  made  by 
force  of  shot,  discharged  out  of  a  great 
Ordnance,  se  as  in  divers  places,  light 
might  be  seen  through  the  walls.  In  this 
storm  was  no  body  kill'd,  save  one  Dog 
in  the  Belfree,  and  another  at  the  feet  of 
one  kneeling  to  receive  the  Cup  ;  As  soon 
as  this  fearfull  storm  was  over,  they  that 
were  weak,  not  able  to  stand,  were 
(through  the  mercy  of  God)  restored  to 
their  strength ;  and  they  that  were  fran- 
tick,  to  their  senses ;  and  he  that  was 
blind,  was  restored  to  his  sight ;  and  came 
all  to  the  Lords  Table,  and  received  the 
Wine,  and  went  all  in  the  afternoon  to 
give  God  thanks. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  53  •  47 


665  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  15.  666 

•^Wflt)    15  wich  fair,  and   the  sports  in  the  pane,  \» 

-a*"**  described  hi  vol.  i.  p.  687,  &c. 

1826.  WHIT  MONDAY.  jt  js  a  universal  festival  in  the  humble 

This  second  season  of  annual  holidays     ranks  of  life  throughout  the  kingdom, 
in  England,  with  the  humours  of  Green- 
Hark,  how  merrily,  from  distant  tower, 
Ring  round  the  village  bells ;  now  on  the  ga.e 
They  rise  with  gradual  swell,  distinct  and  loud , 
Anon  they  die  upon  the  pensive  ear, 
Melting  in  faintest  music.     They  bespeak 
A  day  of  jubilee,  and  oft  they  bear, 
Commixt  along  the  unfrequented  shore, 
The  sound  of  village  dance  and  tabor  loud, 
Startling  the  musing  ear  of  solitude. 
Such  is  thejocund  wake  of  Whitsuntide, 
When  happy  superstition,  gabbling  eld, 
Holds  her  unhurtful  gambols.     All  the  day 
The  rustic  revellers  ply  the  mazy  dance 
On  the  smooth  shaven  green,  and  then  at  eve 
Commence  the  harmless  rites  and  auguries ; 
And  many  a  tale  of  ancient  days  goes  round. 
They  tell  of  wizard  seer,  whose  potent  spells 
Could  hold  in  dreadful  thrall  the  labouring  moon, 
Or  draw  the  fixed  stars  from  their  eminence, 
And  still  the  midnight  tempest ;  then,  anon, 
Tell  of  uncharnelled  spectres,  seen  to  glide 
Along  the  lone  wood's  unfrequented  path, 
Startling  the  nighted  traveller ;  while  the  sound 
Of  undistinguished  murmurs,  heard  to  come 
From  the  dark  centre  of  the  deepening  glen, 
Struck  on  his  frozen  ear  H.  K.  White. 


DROP  HANDKERCHIEF.  if,  as  was  sometimes  the  case,  she  proved 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book.  to  be   th*   *$**£  f  1™\™^ "f  '" 

J  y  „„.         •  i  merriment  was  afforded  to  the  bystanders 

Sir,— The    approaching    Whitsuntide  in  witnessing  the  chase  through  its  differ- 

bnngs    to   my   remembrance   a    custom  ent  windingS)  dodgings,  and  circumlocu- 

which  I  believe  to  be  now  quite  obsolete.  ti         which  ended  in  the  lady»s  capture, 

I. remember  when  I  was  a  boy  that  it  with  a  kigs  for  tlie  gentleman's  trouble, 
was  usual  in  Devonshire,  at  Easter  and         j  believe  m        matches  in  the  humble 

Whitsuntide,  for  young  people  of  both  wa]kg  of  life  m      date  their  origin  fr0m 

sexes  to  form  a  ring  at  fairs  and  revels,  this  custom      and  however  the  opulent 

and  play  at  what  was  termed  «  drop  hand-  and  refined  be  disposed  to  object  to 

kerchief.'     After  the  ring   was   formed,  a  promiscuous  assemblage  of  the  sexes, 

which  used  to  be  done  with  little  difficulty,  j  am  doubtful  whether  they    can  point 

a  young  man  would  go  round  it  once  or  Qut  an      ,       which  ghall  ^  in   fnno. 

twice,  examining  all  the  time  with  curious  cence  ££  ffaiet    those  of  our  forefalhers 

eye  each  well  formed  blooming  maiden;  m        of  which  Jare    one  and  as      endo. 

the  favoured  fairwas  selected  by  the  hand-  deli(fac    and  refinement  are  now  the  order 

kerchief  being  thrown  over  her  shoulders,  df  the  day,  l  fear   that  they  never  can 

and  at  the  same  time  saluted  with  a  kiss.  return  again 

The  young  man  then  took  his  place  in  the         Cannon-street.  R.  S. 

ring,  and  the   young  woman  proceeded 

round  it  as  he  had  done  before,  until  she  

dropped  the  handkerchief  behind  one  of         The  editor  saw  "  Drop-handkerchief 

the  young  men.  As  soon  as  this  was  done  in  Greenwich-park  at  Whitsuntide,  1825, 

she  would  bound  away  with  the  swiftness  and  mentioned  it  as  "Kiss  in  the  ring" 

of  a  roe,  followed  by  the  young  man,  and  in  vol.  i.  p.  692. 


667 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  15. 


668 


WHIT  MONDAY  AT  LICHFIELD. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — In  the  pleasant  little  city  of  Lich- 
field  (celebrated  for  the  neatness  of  its 
streets,  and  the  beauty  of  its  splendid 
cathedral)  the  annual  fair  for  the  exhibi- 
tion of  shows,  &c.  is  held  on  Whit  Mon- 
day, and  it  is  the  custom  on  that  day  for 
a  procession,  accompanied  with  musi- 
cians, flags,  &c.  to  be  formed,  composed  of 
part  of  the  corporation,  with  its  inferior 
officers,  &c.  who  are  joined  by  several  of 
the  best  mechanics  of  the  place,  each  of 
whom  carries  a  representation  in  minia- 
ture of  his  separate  workshop  and  mode 
of  trade,  the  figures  being  so  formed  as  to 
be  put  in  motion  by  machinery,  and 
worked  by  a  single  wheel.  These  repre- 
sentations are  about  two  feet  square, 
and  are  fixed  at  the  top  of  a  pole  about 
two  yards  high,  decorated  with  flowers, 
&c.  The  procession  walks  from  the 
guildhall  to  a  high  hill  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  city,  called  Greenhill,  (but  which  is 
now  nearly  surrounded  by  houses,)  where 
a  temporary  booth  has  been  erected,  with 
a  small  space  of  ground  enclosed  at  the 
front  with  boards.  This  booth  is  also 
decorated  with  flowers,  and  hence  the 
fair  has  derived  the  appellation  of  "  The 
Greenhill  Bower."  On  arriving  at  this 
booth,  the  gates  of  the  enclosed  park  are 
opened  and  the  procession  enters.  The 
different  little  machines  are  placed  around 
the  enclosure*,  and  then  put  in  motion  by 
the  separate  "  operatives,"  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  higher  portion  of  the  corpo- 
ration, who  award  which  of  the  machines 
presents  the  greatest  ingenuity,  and  prizes 
are  distributed  accordingly.  This  takes 
place  about  the  middle  of  the  day.  The 
machines  remain,  and  are  put  in  motion 
and  exhibited  by  their  owners  until  the 
evening.  The  booth  itself  is  filled  with 
refreshments ;  and  men  being  stationed 
at  the  gates  to  prevent  the  entrance  of 
the  disorderlies,  every  well-dressed  person 
is  admitted  at  once,  and  some  cakes,  &c. 
arc  given  gratuitously  away ;  the  corpora- 
tion I  believe  being  at  this  expense.  The 
various  shows  are  ranged  in  different 
parts  of  the  hill,  and  as  none  make  their 
appearance  there  but  such  as  have  already 
graced  "  Bartholomew,"  it  will  be  end- 
less for  me  to  say  another  word  on  this 
part  of  the  subject,  as  by  reference  to  your 
notices  of  September  3,  1825,  will 
more  fully  and  at  large  appear,  and  where 
your  reader  will  find,  although  enough, 
yet  "  not  to  spare,"  I  am,  &c.  J.  O.  W. 


WHITSUNTIDE  HIKINGS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Mays,  1&26. 

Sir,— If  you  think  'the  annexed  worth  a 
place  in  your  invaluable  and  entertaining 
work,  you  will  extremely  oblige  me  by 
inserting  it.  I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

HENRY  WM.  DEWHURST. 
63,  Upper  Thornhaugh-street, 
Bedford-square. 

Cumberland  Hiringg. 

The  "  hirings"  for  farmers'  servants  half 
yearly  at  Whitsuntide  and  Martinmass, 
though  not  altogether  peculiar  to  the 
county  of  Cumberland,  are  however,  I 
conceive,  entitled  to  notice.  Those  who 
come  to  be  hired  stand  in  a  body  in  the 
market-place,  and  to  distinguish  themselves 
hold  a  bit  of  straw  or  green  sprig  in  their 
mouths.  When  the  market  is  over  the 
girls  begin  to  file  off  and  gently  pace  the 
streets,  with  a  view  of  gaining  admirers, 
whilst  the  young  men  with  similar  designs 
follow  them;  and  having  "  eyed  the 
lasses,"  each  picks  up  a  sweetheart,  con- 
ducts her  to  a  dancing-room,  and  treats 
her  with  punch,  wine,  and  cake.  Here 
they  spend  their  afternoon,  and  part  of 
their  half-year's  wages,  in  drinking  and 
dancing,  unless,  as  it  frequently  happens, 
a  girl  becomes  the  subject  of  contention, 
when  the  harmony  of  the  meeting  is  inter- 
rupted, and  the  candidates  for  her  love 
settle  the  dispute  by  blows.  When  the 
diversions  of  the  day  are  concluded,  the 
servants  generally  return  to  their  homes 
for  a  few  holidays  before  they  enter  on 
their  new  servitude.  At  fairs,  as  well  as 
hirings,  it  is  customary  for  all  the  young 
people  in  the  neighbourhood  to  assemble 
and  dance  at  the  inns  and  alehouses.  In 
their  dances,  which  are  jigs  and  reels,  ex- 
ertion and  agility  are  more  regarded  than 
ease  and  grace.  But  little  order  is  observ- 
ed in  these  rustic  assemblies  :  disputes 
frequently  arise,  and  are  generally  terrain^ 
ated  by  blows.  During  these  combats  the 
weaker  portion  of  the  company,  with  the 
minstrels,  get  on  the  benches,  or  cluster 
in  corners,  whilst  the  rest  support  the 
combatants;  even  the  lasses  will  often 
assist  in  the  battle  in  support  of  their  rela 
tions  or  lovers,  and  in  the  last  cases  they 
are  desperate.  When  the  affray  is  oveV 
the  bruised  pugilists  retire  to  wash,  and 
the  tattered  nymphs  to  re-adjust  their  gar- 
ments. Fresh  company  arrives,  the  fiddles 
strike  up,  the  dancing  proceeds  as  before, 
and  the  skirmish  which  had  commenced 


669 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  15. 


670 


without  malice,  is  rarely  remembered. 
In  their  dancing  parties  the  attachments 
of  the  country  people  are  generally  formed. 

ENSHAM,  OXON. 

Old  Custom. 

Till  within  the  last  century,  an  old  cus- 
tom prevailed  in  the  parish  of  Ensham, 
Oxfordshire,  by  which  the  townspeople 
were  allowed  on  Whit  Monday  to  cut 
down  and  carry  away  as  much  tim- 
ber as  could  be  drawn  by  men's 
hands  into  the  abbey-yard,  the  church- 
wardens previously  marking  out  such  tim- 
ber by  giving  the  first  chop ;  so  much  as 
they  could  carry  out  again,  notwithstand- 
ing the  opposition  of  the  servants  of  the 
abbey  to  prevent  it,  they  were  to  keep  for 
the  reparation  of  the  church.  By  this 
service  they  held  their  right  of  common- 
age at  Lammas  and  Michaelmas ;  but 
about  the  beginning  of  tlje  last  century, 
this  practice  was  laid-  aside  by  mutual 
consent.* 

K.IDL1NGTON,    OXON. 

There  is  a  custom  at  Kidlington,  in  Ox- 
fordshire, on  Monday  afterWhitson  Week, 
to  provide  a  fat  live  lamb ;  and  the  maids 
of  the  town,  having  their  thumbs  tied  be- 
hind them,  run  after  it,  and  she  that  with 
her  mouth  takes  and  holds  the  lamb,  is 
declared  Lady  of  the  Lamb  ;  which  being 
dressed,  with  the  skin  hanging  on,  is  car- 
ried on  a  long  pole  before  the  lady  and  her 
companions  to  the  green,  attended  with 
music,  and  a  morisco  dance  of  men,  and 
another  of  women,  where  the  rest  of  the 
day  is  spent  in  dancing,  mirth,  and  merry 
glee.  The  next  day  the  lamb  is  part  baked, 
boiled,  and  roast,  for  the  lady's  feast, 
where  she  sits  majestically*  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  table,  and  her  companions  with 
her,  with  music  and  other  attendants, 
which  ends  the  solemnity  .f 


NECTON,  NORFOLK 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Various  purse  clubs,  or  benefit  socie- 
ties,  annual     feasts,    and    other   merry- 
makings, having  from  time  immemorial 
produced  a  Whitsuntide  holiday  amongst 
the  inhabitants  of  numerous  villages  in 
Norfolk,   in  1817,  colonel,  at  that  time 
major,  Mason,  in   order  to   concentrate 
these  festivities,  and  render  Necton,  (his 

*  Topographical,  &c.  Description  of  Oxfordshire, 
t   Bloinit's  Jocular  Tenures. 


place  of  family  residence,)  the  focus  o. 
popular  attraction  to  the  neighbouring 
villagers,  established  a  guild  or  festiva\ 
for  rural  sports,  on  Whit  Monday  and 
Tuesday.  Having,  during  the  late  war, 
while  with  his  regiment  (the  East  Norfolk 
Militia)  had  an  opportunity  of  observing 
the  various  celebrations  of  Whitsuntide, 
in  different  parts  of  the  kingdom,  he  was 
thus  enabled  to  constitute  Necton  guild, 
a  superior  holiday  festival.  Arranged 
under  his  immediate  patronage,  and  con- 
ducted by  his  principal  tenantry,  it  soon 
became,  and  still  continues,  the  most 
respectable  resort  of  Whitsuntide  festi- 
vities in  Norfolk. 

Previous  to  the  festival,  the  following 
printed  notice  is  usually  circulated 

'  WHITSUN  HOLIDAYS 

"  On  the  afternoons  of  Whit  Monday 
and  Whit  Tuesday  next,  a  guild  for  rural 
games,  Maypole  dances,  &c.  will  be  held 
in  the  grounds  of  William  Mason,  Esq., 
Necton. 

"  The  guild  being  entirely  distinct 
from  a  fair,  no  stalls,  stands,  or  booths, 
or  other  conveniences  for  the  sale  of 
goods,  will  be  suffered  to  be  brought 
upon  the  grounds,  but  by  those  who 
have  special  leave  for  that  purpose,  in 
writing,  given  on  application  to  John 
Carr,  master  beadle. 

"  The  guild  will  open  each  day  at  two 
p.  M.,  and  canteens,  (where  refreshments 
of  all  sorts  may  be  had,  and  cold  dinners 
supplied,)  will  close  each  night  by  sound 
of  bell  at  eleven. 

"  N.  B. — As  this  guild  _  i?  regularly 
policed,  it  is  hoped  that  the  hilarity  of 
the  festival  will  continue  to  be  preserved 
as  heretofore,  by  the  order  and  obliging 
conduct  of  all  those  who  come  to  mix  in 
the  entertainment. 

"  Signed  by  *  *  *  Mayor. 
"  *  *  *  *  Past  Mayor. 

"  GOD  SAVE  THE  KING.  n 

The  field  selected  for  the  purpose  is 
beautifully  and  picturesquely  situated, 
opposite  the  park  of  Necton-hall.  Near 
the  centre  is  a  raised  mound  of  earth 
fenced  round  to  protect  it  from  the  pres- 
sure of  ihe  crowd,  on  which  is  erected  a 
"  Maypole,"  crowned  with  a  streamer  or 
pennant,  and  encircled  by  numerous 
garlands  of  flowers  and  evergreens,  sus- 
pended longitudinally  from  the  top  to 
the  bottom  of  the  pole  : — this  is  called 


671 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. -MAY  15. 


672 


the  Maypole-stand.  At  a  convenient  dis- 
tance are  placed  the  stalls,  canteens,  and 
booths;  the  principal  of  which,  tastefully 
decorated  with  evergreens,  is  called  "  the 


mayor's  booth,"  and  is  solely  appropriatea 
to  his  friends  and  the  select  party  of  the 
company ;  care  being  taken  to  prevent 
improper  intrusion. 


<§utK», 

From  the  "  mayor  s  booth,"  early  on     emanates  in  the  following  order  of  pro- 
Whit   Monday  afternoon,   the  ceremony     cession  : — 
of  commencing  or  proclaiming  the  guild 

Constable  of  Necton  in  a  red  scarf,  with  his  staff  of  office. 
Beadles  or  special  constables  with  staves,  two  and  two. 

Master  beadle  of  the  guild,  with  a  halberd. 
Six  boys  and  girls,  Maypole  dancers,  two  and  two,  hand  in  hand. 

Band  of  Music. 

Maskers,  or  morris-dancers,  fancifully  attired,  two  and  two. 

Pursuivant  with  a  trnncheon,  habited  in  a  tabard,  on  which  is  depictured  an  alle* 
gorical  representation  of  the  arms  of  Necton. 


973  THE  EVER\-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  .15.  674 

Sword-bearer  in  grotesque  dress,  on  horseback. 

Standard  bearer  on  horseback. 
THE  MAYOR  OF  THE  GUILD, 

On  horseback,  in  full  dress  suit  and  purple  robes  with  his  chain  of  office 

Standard  bearer  on  horseback. 

The  mayor  elect  on  horseback. 

Standard  bearer  on  horseback. 

Principal  tenantry  on  horseback,  two  and  two. 

Beadles  of  the  guild. 

Maskers  or  morris-dancers,  fancifully  attired,  two  and  two. 
Six  boys  and  girls,  Maypole  dancers,  two  and  two,  hand  in  hand. 
Beadles  of  the  guild. 

Band  of  music. 

Man  bearing  a  standard. 

Members  of  Royal  Oak  Friendly  Society,  with  purple  and  light  blue  favours  in  their 

hats,  two  and  two. 

Members  of  the  Necton  Old  Club  Friendly  Society  with  light  blue  favours  in  their 

hats,  two  and  two. 

Taking  a  circuitous  route  through  the  the   approach     of    the    procession,    the 

field    into    the    park,  upon  arriving    at  mayor   alights,   and    thus   addresses   the 

the  principal  entrance  to  the  hall,  where  patron  :— 
the  colonel  and   his  friends  are  waiting 

"  Honourable  sir, — 

"  The  period  now  arriv'd, 
In  which  the  tokens  of  my  mayoralty 
Must  be  resign'd, — I  make  it  my  request, 
You  should  appoint  as  mayor  elect,  this  year, 
Our  worthy  friend  and  colleague,  Mr.  *  *  *  * 
But  in  resigning,  bfc£  best  thanks  to  give 
For  the  diversion  of  our  last  year's  guild  ; — 
Hoping  the  festival  will  as  much  this  year, 
By  weather  and  kind  friends  be  happy  blest." 

To  this  the  colonel  replies,  "  by  thank-  robes   and   tokens   of  office,   the  mayor 

ing  the  mayor  for  his  past  services, — for  elect  is  then  invested  with  them.     After 

the  good  order  and  regularity  observed  returning  to  the  door,  the  colonel  cou- 

during  the  last  festival, — and  the  pleasure  gratulates   the   new   mayor  on   entering 

it  will  afford  him  to  make  the  new  ap-  his  office,  &c.  to  which  his  worship  thus 

pointment." — They    then   enter  the  ves-  replies  : — 
btiule,   where   the   mayor  resigning    his 

"  Honourable  sir,—* 

"  With  pleasure  I  receive 
Tli'  official  tokens  of  my  mayoralty, 
Which  now  in  place  of  our  late  worthy  mayor, 
Alderman  *  *  *  *  I  do  most  willingly  take : 
Be  well  assured,  as  much  as  in  me  lies, 
I  will  good  rule  and  order  strict  maintain, 
That  peace  and  pleasure  may  together  tend 
To  make  our  guild,  two  days  of  even  mirth 
Hoping  all  here  assembled  at  the  hall, 
Anon  will  join  us  in  the  festive  scene, 
And  bidding  all  most  welcome  to  our  guild  :  . 
I  thus  respectful  beg  to  take  my  leave, 
That  I  may  tend  my  duties  in  the  field." — 

The  procession  then  returns  by  the  mayors  ,who  have  changed  places.  The 

same  route  and  in  the  same  order,  with  rustic  sports  then  commence ; — the  master 

the  exception  of  the  new  and  the  past  beadle,  ringing  a  bell,  proclaims  the  sport 

VOL.  II.— 74. 


675 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  15. 


(576 


and  the  prize,  the  competitors  for  which 
are  desired  to  "  come  upon  the  Maypole- 
stand." — The  sports  usually  selected,  are 

Wrestling-matches. 

Foot-races. 

Jingling-matches. 

Jumping  in  sacks. 

Wheel-barrow  races,  blindfold. 

Spinning  matches. 

Whistling  matches. 

Grinning  ditto,  through  a  horse-collar. 

Jumping  matches. 

&c.  &c.  &c.  &c. 

These  are  occasionally  enlivened  with 
Maypole  dances,  by  the  boys  and  girls  of 
the  village,  selected  and  dressed  for  the  oc- 
casion, and  also  by  the  maskers  or  morris- 
dancers.  When  the  shades  of  evening 
prevent  the  continuance  of  these  sports, 
the  spacious  "  mayor's  booth"  is  then 
the  object  of  attraction.  Well  lighted, 
and  the  floor  boarded  for  the  occasion, 
country  dances  commence,  which  are 
generally  kept  up  with  great  spirit  and 
harmony,  till  the  master  beadle  with  his 
bell  announces  the  time  arrived  for 
closing  the  booths  and  canteens,  "  by 
order  of  the  mayor."  A  few  minutes, 
and  sometimes  (by  permission)  a  little 
longer,  terminates  the  amusement,  which 
is  always  concluded,  on  both  evenings,  by 
the  whole  company  joining  in  the  national 
anthem  of  "  God  save  the  king." 

That  "  Necton  guild"  is  considered  as  a 
superior  establishment  to  a  rustic  fair, 
or  other  merry-making,  by  the  nume- 
rous, respectable,  and  fashionable  com- 
panies who  generally  attend  from  all 
parts  of  the  neighbourhood.  Undis- 
turbed by  those  scenes  of  intoxication 
and  disorder,  usually  prevalent  at  village 
fairs,  the  greatest  harmony  prevails 
throughout,  and  the  superior  attention 
and  acccommodation  afforded  by  the 
patron  and  directors  of  the  festival,  to  all 
classes  of  well-behaved  and  respectable 
visiters,  cannot  fail  to  render  "  Necton 
guild,"  a  popular  and  attractive  resort 
of  Whitsuntide  festivities. 

I  have  attempted  a  sketch  of  the  May- 
pole stand,  &c.  from  my  own  knowledge, 
for  I  have  usually  rambled  to  Necton 
one  or  two  evenings  of  each  year,  since 
the  "  guild"  was  established,  and  hence 
I  have  given  you  the  particulars  from 
actual  observation,  though  I  am  indebted 
to  a  friend,  who  is  a  diligent  and  accurate 
recorder  of  customs  for  the  speeches,  &c. 
I  must  further  observe,  that  the  mound  of 
earth  I  have  endeavoured  to  represent 


is  permanent  in  the  field,  and  about  thre«' 
feet  high,  though  I  have  erroneously  re- 
presented it  as  higher  from  lack  of  eye 
in  drawing,  to  which  indeed  I  make  no 
pretension.  The  dancers  are  the  morris- 
dancers  in  grotesque  dresses ;  the  men 
with  fanciful  figured  print  waistcoat 
and  small  clothes,  decked  with  bows ; 
and  the  women  in  coloured  skirts,  trimmed 
like  stage  dresses  for  Spanish  girls,  with 
French  toques  instead  of  caps. 

I  find  you  have  removed  the  publishing 
office  since  I  wrote  last,  but  I  hope  you 
do  not  mean  to  withdraw  yourself  from, 
the  work.  Should  you  continue  "  the 
soul"  of  the  Every- Day  Book  "  body, 
you  shall  hear  from  me  again,  whenever 
and  as  soon  as  I  can.  K. 


%*  To  obviate  the  possibility  of  mis- 
apprehension in  consequence  of  the  EVERY- 
DAY BOOK  being  published  by  Messrs. 
HUNT  and  CLARKE,  /  take  this  opportu- 
nity of  observing,  that  those  gentlemen 
have  no  other  concern  in  the  work  than 
that  of  being  its  publishers,  and  that  it 
has  never  ceased  from  my  entire  manage- 
ment from  the  time  they  undertook  that 
service  for  me  on  my  own  solicitation. 
No  one  has  any  share  or  interest  in  it, 
or  any  power  of  influencing  its  manage- 
ment, and  it  will  continue  to  be  con- 
ducted and  written  by  me,  as  it  has  been, 
from  the  first  hour  of  its  commence- 
ment. I  hope  that  this  is  a  full  and  final 
answer  to  every  inquiry  on  the  subject. 

May,  1826. 

W.  HONE. 


WHITSUN  ALES. 

It  is  pleasant  to  read  the  notices  of 
these  ancient  revels  in  our  topographical 
histories.  One  of  them  gives  the  following 
account  of  a  Cornish  merriment. 

"  For  the  church-ale,  two  young  men  ot 
the  parish  are  yerely  chosen  by  their  last 
foregoers  to  be  wardens,  who,  dividing 
the  task,  make  collection  among  the  pa- 
rishioners, of  whatsoever  provision  it 
pleaseth  them  voluntarily  to  bestow.  This 
they  employ  in  brewing,  oaicing,  and 


677 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY 


678 


othei  acates,  against  Whitsuntide,  upon 
which  holidays  the  neighbours  meet  at 
the  church  house,  and  there  merily  feed 
on  their  owne  victuals,  each  contributing 
some  petty  portion  to  the  stock,  which, 
by  man>y  *  smalls,  gwweth  to  a  meetly 
greatness  ;  for  there  js  entertayned  a  kind 
of  emulation  between  these  wardens,  who, 
by  his  graciousness  in  gathering,  and 
good  husbandry  in  expending,  can  best 
advance  the  churche's  profit.  Besides, 
the  neighbour  parishes  at  those  times 
lovingly  visit  one  another,  and  frankly 
spend  their  money  together.  The  after- 
noons are  consumed  in  such  exercises  as 
olde  and  yonge  folk  (having  leysure)  doe 
accustomably  weare  out  the  time  withall. 
When  the  feast  is  ended,  the  wardens 
yeeld  in  their  accounts  to  the  parishion- 
ers ;  and  such  money  as  exceedeth  the 
disbursement  is  layd  up  in  store,  to  de- 
fray any  extraordinary  charges  arising  in 
the  parish,  or  imposed  on  them  for  the 
good  of  the  countrey  or  the  prince's  ser- 
vice ;  neither  of  which  commonly  gripe 
so  much,  but  that  somewhat  stil  remayn- 
eth  to  cover  the  purse's  bottom."* 

Another  says,  "  There  were  no  rates 
for  the  poor  in  my  grandfather's  days  ; 
but  for  Kingston  St.  Michael  (no  small 
parish)  the  church-ale  of  Whitsuntide  did 
the  business.  In  every  parish  is  (or  was) 
a  church-house  to  which  belonged  spits, 
crocks,  &c.  utensils  for  dressing  provision. 
Here  the  housekeepers  met,  and  were 
merry,  and  gave  their  charity.  The 
young  people  were  there  too,  and  had 
dancing,  bowling,  shooting  at  butts,  &c. 
the  ancients  sitting  gravely  by,  and  look- 
ing on.  All  things  were  civil,  and  with- 
out scandal. "f 

Mr.  Douce  tells  us,  that  "  At  present 
the  Whitsun  ales  are  conducted  in  the 
following  manner.  Two  persons  are  cho- 
sen, previously  to  the  meeting,  to  be 
lord  and  lady  of  the  ale,  who  dress  as 
suitably  as  they  can,  to  the  characters 
they  assume.  A  large  empty  barn,  or 
some  such  building,  is  provided  for  the 
lord's  hall,  and  fitted  up  with  seats  to 
accommodate  the  company.  Here  they 
assemble  to  dance  and  regale  in  the  best 
manner  their  circumstances  and  the  place 
will  afford;  and  each  young  fellow  treats 
"ais  girl  with  a  riband  or  favour.  The 
jord  and  lady  honour  the  hall  with  their 
presence,  attended  by  the  steward,  sword- 
bearer,  purse-bearer,  and  mace-bearer 

*  Carew's  Cornwall,    t  Aubrey's  Wiltshire. 


with  their  several  badges  or  ensigns  c* 
office.  They  have  likewise  a  train-bearer" 
or  page,  and  a  fool  or  jester,  drest  in  a 
party-coloured  jacket,  whose  ribaldry  and 
gesticulation,  contribute  not  a  little  to 
the  entertainment  of  some  part  of  the 
company.  The  lord's  music,  consisting 
of  a  pipe  and  tabor,  is  employed  to  con- 
duct the  dance.  Some  people  think  this 
custom  is  a  commemoration  of  the  an- 
cient Drink-lean,  a  day  of  festivity,  for- 
merly observed  by  the  tenants,  and  vas- 
sals of'  the  lord  of  the  fee,  within  his 
manor  ;  the  memory  of  which,  on  account 
of  the  jollity  of  those  meetings,  the  peo- 
ple have  thus  preserved  ever  since.  The 
glossaries  inform  us,  that  this  Drink-lean 
was  a  contribution  of  tenants,  towards  a 
potation  or  ale,  provided  to  entertain  the 
lord  or  his  steward."* 


At  Islington 

A  fair  they  hold, 
Where  cakes  and  ale 

Are  to  be  sold. 
At  Highgate,  and 

At  Holloway 
The  like  is  kept 

Here  every  day. 
At  Totnani  Court 

And  Kentish  Town, 
And  all  those  places 

Up  and  down. 

Poor  Robin,  1676. 


PEPPARD  REVEL. 

The  "  Reading  Mercury"  of  May  24, 
1819,  contains  the  following  advertise- 
ment : — 

"  Peppard  Revet  will  be  held  on  Whit 
Monday,  May  31,  1819;  and  for  the 
encouragement  of  young  and  old  game- 
sters, there  will  be  a  good  hat  to  be 
played  for  at  cudgels ;  for  the  first  seve> 
couple  that  play,  the  man  that  break,, 
most  heads  to  have  the  prize  ;  and  on*» 
shilling  and  sixpence  will  be  given  t«, 
each  man  that  breaks  a  head,  and  one 
shilling  to  the  man  that  has  his  head 
broke/* 


I^ATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  54  •  35. 
*  Brand. 


679 


THE  EVERY-DAY    BOOK.— MAY    16. 


680 


<§rare  tfte  fflufee  of 


Among  the  peers  without  compeer, 
A  noble  lord  of  parliament, 
Upon  "  his  country's  good"  intent, 
Through  Durham  daily  took  his  walk, 
And  talk'd,  "  ye  gods,  how  he  would  talk  !**' 
His  private  riches  how  immense  ! 
His  public  virtue,  how  intense 
Preeminent  of  all  the  great, 
His  mighty  wisdom  ruled  the  state  ! 
His  claims,  to  high  consideration, 
Brought  deeper  into  debt  the  nation. 
Was  he  not,  then,  a  statesman  ?  what, 
Else,  could  he  be  ?  —  for  I  know  not. 


A   REMARKABLE  CHARACTER. 
On  the  sixteenth  of  May,  1796,  died  in 
Durham  workhouse,  at  the  advanced  age 


of  eighty-five  years,  the  "  duke  of  Bauble- 
shire."  His  title  was  neither  ancestral, 
nor  conferred  by  creation ;  but,  as  Napo- 


681 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY   17,18,19 


eon  is  said  to  have  placed  the  iron 
crown  on  his  own  head,  and  vowed  to 
maintain  it  with  his  sword,  so  Thomas 
French  assumed  the  title  of  duke  of  Bau- 
bleshire  of  his  own  will,  and  maintained 
his  nobility  throughout  life,  by  wearing  a 
star  of  coloured  paper,  or  cloth,  on  the 
breast  of  his  spencer.  As  a  further 
mark  of  his  quality,  he  mounted  a  cock- 
ade in  his  hat,  and  several  brass  curtain 
rings  on  his  fingers.  Thus  decorated,  and 
with  a  star!  in  his  hand  to  support  his 
feeble  frame,  he  constantly  tottered 
through  Durham ;  every  street  of  which 
ancient  city  acknowledged  his  distinc- 
tion. 

At  this  time  it  is  difficult  to  conjecture 
the  origin  of  Thomas  French's  title. 
He  assumed  it  with  the  decline  of  his 
understanding,  until  which  period  he 
had  been  a  labouring  man,  and  sup- 
ported himself  by  the  work  of  his 
k*uuus.  In  right  of  his  dukedom,  he  pub- 
licly urged  his  claims  to  immense  pos- 
sessions. It  was  his  constant  usage  to 
stop  and  accost  every  one  he  knew,  or 
could  introduce  himself  to,  on  points  of 
business,  connected  with  the  Baubleshire 
estates.  Though  at  no  time  master  of  a 
shilling,  he  incessantly  complained  of 
having  been  defrauded  of  vast  amounts, 
In  cash  and  bank  bills;  and  parties  whom 
he  suspected  of  these  transactions,  he 
threatened  to  punish  with  the  utmost 
rigour  of  the  law.  He  seldom  saw  a 
goodly  horse,  or  a  handsome  carriage, 
without  claiming  it,  and  insisted  on  his 
rights  so  peremptorily  and  pertinaciously, 
as  to  be  exceedingly  vexatious  to  the  pos- 
sessors of  the  property.  He  fearlessly 
exhibited  charges  of  misappropriation 
against  individuals  of  all  ranks  and  con- 
ditions. According  to  his  grace's  repre- 
sentations, every  covetable  personalty  in 
"Durham  and  its  vicinage,  had  been  clan- 
destinely obtained  from  Baubleshire ;  nor 
did  he  make  any  secret  of  his  intimate 
and  frequent  correspondence  with  the 
king,  on  the  subject  of  raising  men  for 
carrying  on  the  war,  and  other  important 
affairs  of  state.  He  likewise  expressed 
his  opinions  on  other  men's  characters 
and  conduct  without  reserve ;  and  not- 
withstanding his  abject  poverty,  his 
pointed  observations  frequently  inflicted 
wounds,  for  which  it  would  have  been 
folly  to  express  resentment. 

The  duke  of  Baubleshire  was  occupied 
with  his  numerous  concerns,  till  within 
three  or  four  days  of  his  death,  when  he 


Cb'-t 

took  to  his  bed;  and  over  burdened  by 
old  age,  peaceably  lay  down  with  the 
other  departed  dignitaries  of  the  earth. 
TLe  present  portrait  and  particulars  of 
him  are  from  a  print  lithographed  at  Dur- 
ham, where  he  took  his  title,  and  where 
he  still  lives  in  ephemeral  fame. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  55  •  30. 

^flap  17. 

1826.  EMBER  WEEK. 

Oxford  Term  begins. 
Remarkable  Performance. 
On  the  seventeenth  of  May,  1817,  a 
respectable  farmer  of  Kirton  Lindsey  for 
a  wager  of  a  few  pounds,  undertook  to 
ride  a  poney  up  two  pair  of  stairs  into  a 
chamber  of  the  George  Inn,  and  down 
again,  which  he  actually  performed  before 
a  numerous  company,  whose  astonish- 
ment was  heightened  by  the  rider  being 
upwards  of  eleven  stone  weight,  and  his 
horse  less  than  thirty.  They  were  weigh- 
ed after  the  feat  to  decide  a  wager. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  56  •  65. 


18. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  eighteenth  of  May,  1664,  the 
following  public  advertisement  was  issued 
for  the  healing  of  the  people  by  king 
Charles  II. 

Notice. 

His  sacred  majesty  having  declared  it 
to  be  his  royal  will  and  purpose  to  con- 
tinue the  healing  of  his  people  for  the  evil 
during  the  month  of  May,  and  then  give 
over  till  Michalmas  next,  I  am  command- 
ed to  give  notice  thereof,  that  the  people 
may  not  come  up  to  the  town  in  the 
interim  and  lose  their  labour. 

Newes,  1664. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  55  •  32. 


19. 


"  POOR  JOE  MOODY  !" 
A  willing  record  is  given  to  the  memory 
of  an  unfortunate  young  man,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  an  intelligent  correspondent 


003 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— MAY  20. 


681 


For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Poor  Joe  Moody  lived  in  Ballingdon, 
a  village  in  Essex  ;  he  was  an  idiot,  a 
good,  simple-hearted  creature.  The  cha- 
racter of  his  infirmity  was  childishness; 
ne  would  play  at  marbles,  spin  his  top, 
run  his  hoop,  and  join  the  little  boys  in 
the  village,  with  whom  he  was  a  great  fa- 
vourite, in  all  their  sports.  As  a  boy  he 
was  rational,  but  when  he  assumed  the 
man,  which  he  would  now  and  then  do, 
the  poor  fellow  was  a  sad  picture  of 
misery.  He  would  sit  upon  the  steps  of 
an  old  house,  and  ask  if  you  did  not  hear 
the  thunder ;  then  he  would  start  as  if  to 
restrain  the  fury  of  a  horse,  and  he  would 
suddenly  become  mild  again,  and  say, "  I 
have  seen  her  grave  !"  and  he  would  weep 
like  a  child  for  hours.  The  story  of  his 
early  life  I  have  heard  my  father  thus 
relate  : — 

"  When  I  went  to  school  with  Joe 
Moody,  he  was  a  fine  fellow,  and  remark- 
able for  his  good  temper  and  lively  dispo- 
sition ;  he  could  run  from  us  all,  and  was 
one  of  the  best  cricketers  in  the  town. 
After  he  had  left  school  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  Harriet  F ;  she  was 

a  very  lovely  girl,  young  and  amiable, 
and  had  been  sought  by  more  than  one 
respectable  farmer  in  the  neighbourhood  ; 
but  Joe  was  preferred  by  her,  and  by  her 
parents.  I  need  not  say  how  endeared  to 
each  other  they  were  ;  the  sequel  shows  it 
too  plainly.  In  a  few  days  they  were  to 
have  been  made  nappy;  friends  were  in- 
vited to  the  wedding,  and  a  rich  old  aunt 
was  to  be  of  the  party.  Joe  proposed 
that  Harriet  and  himself  should  go  and 
fetch  this  old  lady ;  a  mark  of  respect 
which  was  readily  agreed  lo.  With  hopes 
high,  and  hearts  of  gaiety,  the  young  folks 
set  off  on  a  fine  summer's  morning,  with 
feelings  which  only  youth  and  love  can 
know.  Who  can  say  this  shall  be  a  day 
of  happiness  ?  They  had  scarcely  lost 
sight  of  home  when  the  sky  became  over- 
cast, and  in  a  few  minutes  a  dreadful 
Storm  "burst  over  their  heads.  The  thun- 
der and  lightning  were  terrific,  and  the 
high  spirited  horse  became  unmanageable. 
Poor  Joe  endeavoured  to  restrain  its  fury, 
but  in  vain  ;  it  left  the  track  of  the  road  ; 
the  hood  of  the  chaise  struck  against  the 
projecting  branch  of  a  tree,  and  both  were 
thrown  out  with  extreme  violence  to  the 
earth.  Joe  soon  recovered,  and  his  first 
care  was  his  Harriet — she  was  a  corpse  at 
his  feet !  Poor  Joe  spoke  not  for  some 
weeks;  and  the  first  return  of  imperfect 


sense,  was  shown  by  his  swimming  a  little 
cork  boat  which  he  found." 

This  humour  was  encouraged,  and  often 
his  melancholy  weeping  mood  was  turned 
by  a  kind  proposition  to  play  a  game  at 
marbles.  He  would  come  to  my  father's 
house  sometimes,  and  borrow  a  penny  to 
buy  marbles,  a  string  for  a  kite,  or  some 
trifling  toy.  He  never  had  his  hair  cut : 
it  was  very  black  and  glossy  ;  and  used 
to  curl  and  hang  about  his  shoulders  like 
the  hair  of  Charles  II.,  whom  he  resem- 
bled somewhat  in  the  face.  Joe  went 
regularly  to  church,  and  as  regularly  to 
the  grave  of  his  Harriet.  In  rainy  or  tem- 
pestuous weather,  he  would  sit  upon  the 
steps  of  the  door  where  he  first  met  her, 
and  ask  of  passing  strangers  whether  they 
had  seen  her.  He  had  a  fine  voice  and 
taste  for  singing,  with  which  he  would 
sometimes  amuse  himself,  but  it  generally 
led  him  to  melancholy.  Joe  feared  but 

one  person  in  the  village,  a  Mr.  S , 

who  once  beat  him  at  school  in  a  boyish 
fight. 

I  went  to  Ballingdon  last  summer,  and 
asked  for  Joe :  an  old  man  told  me  he 
died  suddenly  on  seeing  a  horse  run  away 
— he  showed  me  his  grave. 

W.  DOOWUUH. 

May,  182C. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  ...  55  •  70. 


20. 

REMARKABLE  FUNERAL. 

On  the  twentieth  of  May.  1736,  the 
body  of  Samuel  Baldwin,  Esq.  was,  in 
compliance  with  an  injunction  in  his  will, 
immersed,  sans  ceremonie,  in  the  sea  at 
Lymington,  Hants.  His  motive  for  this 
extraordinary  mode  of  interment  was,  to 
prevent  his  wife  from  "  dancing  over  his 
grave,"  which  this  modern  Xantippe  had 
frequently  threatened  to  do  in  case  she 
survived  him. 


SCOTCJI  SUPERSTITIONS  IN  MAY. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book, 
Sir, — A   desultory  sketch  of  the  more 

prominent  features,    on  the  darker  side 

of  Scotch  character,  if  deemed  worthy  oi 

insertion,  is  at  your  service. 

Researches    into   ancient  usages,    the 

way  of  leading  life,  and  the  customs  and 


685 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK —MAY  20. 


686 


superstitious  belief,  which  gave  tinge  and 
sway  to   those   who   peopled  the   world 
before  us,  are  often  ridiculed  as  frivolous 
by  casual  observers.     But  the  events  of 
centuries  past  have  become  classic  from 
their  associations  with  many  of  our  own. 
Such    observers   are   apt   to   forget   that 
much  in  our  present  manners  is  as  cer- 
tainly derived  from  the  popular  opinions 
of  past  ages,  as  the  heaving  of  the  ocean 
is  caused  by  the  submarine  ground  swell. 
Neither  the  thoughts  nor  the  actions  of 
men,  are  to  be  compared  or  measured  by 
an  unvarying  standard  of  consistency  or 
reason.       The     passions    are   the     real, 
though   unsteady   and    eccentric    guides 
of    our   motions;    of  these,  fear   is   the 
most   predominant;   and  in   its   hour  of 
operation,   has   the    most    commanding 
power.     Why  is  it,  that  a  man  in  a  state 
of  inebriety  will  be  little  the  worse  for 
bruises  which  would  cost  the  same  man 
sober,  his  life  ?    It  is  not  the  alcohol  that 
gives  life  its  tenacity,  but  it  is  the  con- 
sequent absence  of  fear  which  prevents 
imaginary,  being  added  to  real  dangers. 
Like  love,  it  feeds  its  own  flame.      In 
all  ages,  when  earthly  objects  have  ceased 
to  teirify,  men  have  conjured  up  phantoms 
for  their  minds'  excitation,  which,  when 
reason   told    them,   were  false,  because 
invisible  to  the  senses,  they  clothed  with 
superhuman   attributes;     still,  however, 
taking  advantage  of  every  incident  their 
fancy  misrepresented,  to  prove,  at  least, 
their  material  effects.     Such  is  witchcraft ; 
which  in  Scotland,  not  many  years  ago, 
was  as  generally  believed  in  as  Christ- 
ianity, and  which  many,  who  have  been 
excluded  from   the  polish  of  society,  be- 
lieve  in   still.      Those  who  ventured  to 
impugn    the  doctrine,  were  held  to  be 
what  the  mob  did  not  understand,  but 
what  they  believed   to  be  something  of 
extraordinary  iniquity — "  PAPISTS." 

The  month  of  May  has  always  been 
deemed  peculiarly  favourable  for  super- 
natural appearances.  No  one  will  marry 
in  May  :  but  on  the  first  morning  of  that 
month,  maidens  rise  early  to  gather  May- 
dew,  which  they  throw  over  their  shouldei 
in  order  to  propitiate  fate  in  allotting 
them  a  good  husband.  If  they  can  sue 
ceed  by  the  way  in  catching  a  snail  by 
the  horns,  and  throwing  it  over  their 
shoulder,  it  is  an  omen  of  good  luck  ; 
and  if  it  is  placed  on  a  slate,  then  like- 
wise it  will  describe  by  its  turning,  the 
initials  of  their  future  husband's  name. 
Anciently,  the  month  of  M»v  was 


ushered  in  with  many  solemn  rites,  and 
the  first  day  had  the  name  of  "  Beltane." 
The   "  Beltane  time"   was    a  season  ot 
boisterous   rnirth   and    riotous    festivity 
There    is    still  a  fair    at    the   town   of 
Peebles,  which  goes  by  the  name  of  the 
Beltane  fair.     Our  king,  James  I.,  says, 
'*  At  Beltane  quhar  ilk  bodie  bownis 

To  Peblis  to  the  play, 
To  hear  ye  sing  and  ye  soundis 

The  solace  suth  to  say." 
The  mob  elected  a  "  king  and  queen  of 
May,"  and  dressed  them  fantastically  to 
preside  over  their  ceremonies.  There 
were  also  peculiar  games,  and  "  Clerks' 
Plays,"  with  which  the  multitude  amused 
themselves  at  this  season. 

Among  other  superstitious  observances 
for  which  May  is  reckoned  favourable, 
there  is  a  custom  of  visiting  certain  wells, 
which  were  believed  to  possess  a  charm, 
for  "  curing  of  sick  people,"  during  that 
month.  In  1628,  a  number  of  persons 
were  brought  before  the  Kirk  Session  of 
Falkirk,  accused  of  going  to  Christ's 
well  on  the  Sundays  of  May,  to  seek 
their  health,  and  the  whole  being  found 
guilty  were  sentenced  to  repent "  in  linens" 
three  several  sabbaths.  "And  it  is 
statute  and  ordained  that  if  any  person, 
or  persons,  be  found  superstitiously  and 
idolatrously,  after  this,  to  have  passed  in 
pilgrimage  to  Christ's  well,  on  the  Sundays 
of  May  to  seek  their  health,  they  shall 
repent  in  sacco  (sackcloth)  and  linen  three 
several  sabbaths,  and  pay  twenty  lib 
(Scots)  toties  quoties,  for  ilk  fault ;  and 
if  they  cannot  pay  it,  the  baillies  shall  be 
recommended  to  put  them  in  ward,  and 
to  be  fed  on  bread  and  water  for  aught 
days."*  They  were  obliged,  for  the  pre- 
servation of  the  charm,  to  keep  strict 
silence  on  the  way,  to  and  from  the  well, 
and  not  to  allow  the  vessel  in  which  the 
water  was,  to  touch  the  ground. 

In  1657,  a  mob  of  parishioners  were 
summoned  to  the  session,  for  believing 
in  the  powers  of  the  well  of  Airth,  a 
village  about  six  miles  north  of  Falkirk, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Forth,  and  the  whole 
Were  sentenced  to  be  publicly  rebuk- 
ed for  the  sin.  — "  Feb.  3,  1757, 
Session  convenit.  Compeared  Bessie 
Thomson,  who  declairit  scho  went  to 
the  well  at  Airth,  and  that  schoe  left 
money  thairat,  and  after  the  can  was 
fillat  with  water,  they  keepit  it  from 
touching  the  ground  till  they  cam  honi." 

*  Session  Records,  June  12,  1628. 


687 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— MAY  21. 


G88 


"  Ffebruary  24. —  Compeired  Robert 
Fuird  who  declared  he  went  to  the  well 
of  Airth,  and  spoke  nothing  als  he  went, 
and  that  Margrat  Walker  went  with  him, 
and  schoe  said  ye  beleif  about  the  well, 
and  left  money  and  ane  napkin  at  the  well, 
and  all  was  done  at  her  injunction." 
"  Compeared  Bessie  Thomson  declarit 
schoe  fetch  it  horn  water  from  the  said 
well  and  luit  it  not  touch  the  ground  in 
homcoming,  spoke  not  as  sha  went,  said 
the  beleif  at  it,  left  money  and  ane  nap- 
kin thair ;  and  all  was  done  at  Margrat 
Walker's  command/'  "  Compeired 
Margrat  Walker  who  denyit  yat  scho 
was  at  yat  well  befoir  and  yat  scho  gave 
*ny  directions  "  "March  10.  Compeared 
Margrat  Forsyth  being  demandit  if  scho 
went  to  the  well  of  Airth,  to  fetch  water 
thairfrom,  spok  not  by  ye  waye,  luit  it 
not  touch  ye  ground  in  homcoming  ?  if 
scho  said  ye  belief?  left  money  and  ane 
napkin  at  it  ?  Answered  affirmatively  in 
every  poynt,  and  yat  Nans  Brugh  directit 
yem,  and  yat  they  had  bread  at  ye  well, 
with  them,  and  yat  Nans  Burg  said  shoe 
wald  not  be  affrayit  to  goe  to  yat  well  at 
midnight  hir  alon."  "  Compeired  Nans 
Burg,  denyit  yat  ever  scho  had  bein  at 
yat  well  befoir."  "  Compeired  Ro1 
Squir  confest  he  went  to  yat  well  at 
Airth,  fetchit  horn  water  untouiching  ye 
ground,  left  money  and  said  ye  beleif 
at  it."  "  March  17.  Compeired  Ro* 
Cochran,  declairit,  he  went  to  the  well  at 
Airth  and  ane  other  well,  bot  did  neither 
say  ye  beleif,  nor  leave  money."  "  Com- 
peired Grissal  Hutchin,  declairit  scho 
commandit  the  lasses  yat  went  to  yat 
well,  say  ye  beleif,  but  dischargit  hir 
dochter."  "  March  ?1.  Compeired 
Robert  Ffuird  who  declairit  yat  Margrat 
Walker  went  to  ye  well  of  Airth  to  fetch 
water  to  Robert  Cowie,  and  when  schoe 
corn  thair,  scho  laid  down  money  in  Gods 
name,  and  ane  napkin  in  Rol  Cowie's 
name."  "  Compeired  Jonet  Robison 
who  declairit  yat  when  scho  was  seik, 
Jean  Mathieson  com  to  hir  and  told  hir, 
that  the  water  of  the  well  of  Airth  was 

fuid  for  seik  people,  and  yat  the  said 
can  hir  guid  sister  desyrit  hir  fetch  sum 
of  it  to  hir  guid  man  as  he  was  seik,  bot 
scho  durst  never  tell  him."  These  peo- 
ple were  all  "  publicly  admonishit  for 
superstitious  carriage/'  Yet  within  these 
few  years,  a  farmer  and  his  servant  were 
known  to  travel  fifty  miles  for  the  purpose 
of  bringing  water  from  a  charmed  well 
in  the  Highlands  to  c.-ire  their  sick  cattle. 


The  records  contain  some  curious 
notices  concerning  witchcraft,  which  are 
all  certified  to  "  my  lord's  court,"  the 
baronial  juridical  conservator  of  the 
public  peace  ;  but,  if  we  may  judge  from 
the  re-appearance  of  the  parties,  none, 
much  to  the  laird  of  Callander's  honour, 
ever  were  punished.  I  may  afterwards 
give  some  of  these  for  the  amusement  of 
the  readers  of  the  Every-Day  Bonk,  who 
will  likewise  find  in  the  "  Scots'  Mag- 
azine" for  March,  1814,  an  account  of 
trials  for  witchcraft  at  Borroustaunness, 
which  ended  in  six  poor  creatures'  con- 
demnation on  the  twenty-third  of  Decem- 
ber, 1679,  to  "be  wirried  at  a  steak  till 
they  be  dead,  and  then  to  have  their 
bodies  burnt  to  ashes  !" 

The  reputed  consequences  of  the  blink 
of  an  ill-ee,  are  either  death,  or  some 
horrible  debility ;  for  which  there  are 
some  preventitives,  such  as  rolling  a  red 
silk  thread  round  the  finger  or  the  neck, 
or  keeping  a  slip  of  rowntree  (mountain 
ash)  in  the  bonnet ;  and  last,  not  least, 
there  is  a  "gruel,  thick  and  slab,"  which  is 
reckoned  efficacious  in  averting  "  Skaith." 
At  this  day,  even  in  the  twenty-sixth  year 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  an  old  woman 
in  Falkirk  earns  a  comfortable  livelihood 
by  the  sale  of  «  Skaith  Saw." 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

ROBERT  KIER 
Falkirk,  May  16,  1826. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  55  •  42. 

JWap  21. 

1826.  TRINITY  SUNDAY. 

For  usages  on  this  day,  see  vol.  i.  p. 
722. 

THE  SEASON. 

It  is  observed  by  Dr.  Forster  in 
the  "  Perennial  Calendar,"  that  the 
sky  is  generally  serene,  and  the  wea- 
ther mild  and  agreeable,  about  this 
time.  A  cloudy  day,  however,  fre- 
quently happens,  and  is  sometimes  suc- 
ceeded by  a  day's  rain ;  but  we  have 
noticed  frequently,  that  an  overcast  sky, 
when  not  too  obscure,  is  the  best  for 
viewing  flowers,  and  at  this  time  of  year 
often  sets  off  the  splendid  Vernal  Flora 
to  great  advantage. 

Song-  to  Summer. 

Hail,  rural  goddess  of  delight ! 

I  woo  thy  smiles  from  morn  till  night ; 


689 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  21 


690 


no  more  rude  Eurus  blows 
O'er  mountains  of  congealed  snows  ; 
But  thy  faire  handmaid  lovely  Maie 
Treads  the  fresh  lawns,  and   leads    the 

waie. 

Now,  at  Flora's  earlie  call, 
The  meadows  greene  and  vallies  all 
Pour  forth  their  variegated  flowers, 
To  regale  the  sportive  hours. 
Hence  then  let  me  fly  the  crowde 
Of  busy  men,  and  seke  the  woode, 
Witli  some  Dryad  of  the  grove, 
By  shades  of  elm  and  oak  to  rove, 
Till  some  sequestered  spot  we  find, 
There,  on  violet  bank  reclined, 
We  fly  the  day-star's  burning  heate, 
Which  cannot  reach  our  green  retreate  ; 
While    Zephyr,    with  'light  whispering 

breeze, 

Softly  dances  in  the  trees ; 
And,  upon  his  muskie  wing, 
Doth  a  thousand  odours  bring 
From  the  blooming  mead  below, 
Where  cowslips  sweet  and  daisies  blow  ; 
And  from  out  her  grassie  bed 
The  harebell  hangs  her  nodding  head  ; 
Hard  bye,  some  purling  stream  beside, 
Where  limpid  waters  gently  glide, 
Iris  shows  her  painted  woof 
Of  variegated  hues,  windproof ; 
And  with  water  lillies  there, 
The  nymphs  and  naids  braid  the  haire  ; 
And  from  out  their  leafie  haunt. 
The  birdes  most  melodious  chant. 
Then,  sweet  nymph,  at  eventide, 
Let  us  roam  the  broke  beside, 
While  the  lovelorn  nightingale 
Sadlie  sings  the  woods  ymel, 
Till  the  bittern's  booming  note 
O'er  the  sounding  mashes  flote, 
And  the  ominous  owls  do  crie, 
While  luckless  bats  are  flitting  byej 
Then  before  the  midnight  houre, 
When  ghostlie  sprites  and  pizgies  coure, 
We  will  betake  us  to  our  cot, 
And  be  it  there,  O  sleep,  our  lot, 
To  rest  in  balmie  slumberings, 
Till  the  next  cock  his  matin  rings. 


forth,  Esq.,  F.  S.  A.,  and  author  of  a  very 
splendid  and  elaborate  "  History  of  the 
County  Palatinate  of  Durham." 

Your's  truly, 

JOHN  SYKES 
Newcastle,  Tyne,  April  25,  1826. 


CHRONOLOGY. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — As  the  anniversary  of  that  day, 
on  which  the  greatest  mathematician  of 
his  time  was  removed  from  this  transi- 
tory world,  is  fast  approaching,  I  hasten 
to  send  you  a  brief  memorial,  selected 
from  various  local  works,  of  that  truly 
original  and  eccentric  genius.  I  also 
enclose  a  fac-simile  of  his  hand  writing, 
•which  was  presented  to  me  by  a  very 
obliging  friend,  Robert  Suitees,  of  Mains- 


William  Emerson  was  born  at  Hur- 
worth,  a  pleasant  village,  about  three 
miles  from  Darlington,  in  the  county  of 
Durham,  on  the  "l 4th  of  May,  1701. 
The  preceptor  of  his  early  years  was  his 
own  father,  of  whom  he  learned  writing 
and  arithmetic,  and  probably  the  rudi- 
ments of  Latin.  After  having  studied 
mathematics  with  much  ardour  under 
able  masters,  at  Newcastle  and  York,  he 
returned  to  Hurworth,  and  again  benefited 
by  the  knowledge  of  his  father,  who  was 
a  tolerable  master  of  the  mathematics. 
Some  degree  of  Emerson's  celebrity  may  be 
attributed  to  the  treatment  which  he  receiv- 
ed from  Dr.  Johnson,  rector  of  Hurworth, 
whose  niece  he  had  married.  The  doctor 
had  engaged  to  give  five  hundred  pounds 
to  his  niece,  who  lived  with  him,  as  a 
marriage  portion;  but  when  reminded  of 
the  promise,  he  choose  to  forget  that  it 
had  been  made,  and  treated  our  young 
mathematician  as  a  person  beneath  his 
notice. 

The  pecuniary  disappointment  Emerson 
(who  had  an  independent  spirit,  and 
whose  patrimony  though  not  large,  was 
equal  to  all  his  wants)  would  easily  have 
surmounted,  but  the  contemptuous  treat- 
ment stung  him  to  the  soul.  He  imme- 
diately went  home,  packed  up  his  wife's 
clothes,  and  sent  them  to  the  doctor,  say- 
ing, that  he  would  scorn  to  be  beholden 
to  such  a  fellow  for  a  single  rag ;  vowing 
at  the  same  time  that  he  would  be  re- 
venged, and  prove  himself  to  be  the 
better  man  of  the  two.  His  first  publi- 
cation, however,  did  not  meet  with  im- 
mediate encouragement,  and  most  proba- 
bly his  other  works  would  never  have 
appeared,  at  least  in  the  author's  life- 
time, if  Edward  Montague,  Esq.,  hii 
great  admirer  and  friend,  had  not  pro 
cured  him  the  patronage  of  Mr  Joht 


691 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— MAY  21. 


(592 


Nourse,  bookseller  and  optician,  who 
being  himself  skilled  in  the  more  abstruse 
sciences,  immediately  engaged  Emerson 
to  furnish  a  regular  course  of  mathematics 
for  the  use  of  students,  and  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1763,  Emerson  made  a  journey  to 
London,  to  settle  and  fulfil  the  agree- 
ment. 

His  devotion  to  the  philosophy  of  sir 
Isaac  Newton  was  so  uncommonly  strong, 
that  every  oppugner  of  this  great  man  was 
treated  by  Emerson  as  dull,  blind,  bigotted, 
prejudiced,  or  mad,  and  the  fire  and  impe- 
tuosity of  his  temper  would  on  these  occa- 
sions betray  him  into  language  far  dis- 
tant from  the  strictness  of  mathematical 
demonstration.  Mr.  E.  was  in  person 
something  below  the  common  size,  but 
firm,  compact,  well  made,  very  active 
and  strong.  He  had  a  good  open  ex- 
pressive countenance,  with  a  ruddy  com- 
plexion, a  keen  and  penetrating  eye,  and 
an  ardour  and  eagerness  of  look  that  was 
very  demonstrative  of  the  texture  of  his 
mind.  His  dress  was  grotesque  fre- 
quently ;  sometimes  mean  and  shabby. 
A  very  few  hats  served  him  through  the 
whole  course  of  his  life;  and  when  he 
purchased  one  (or  indeed  any  other 
article  of  dress)  it  was  perfectly  indiffer- 
ent to  him  whether  the  form  or  fashion  of 
it  was  of  the  day,  or  of  half  a  century 
before.  One  of  these  hats  of  immense 
superficies,  had,  by  length  of  time,  lost  its 
elasticity,  and  its  brim  began  to  droop  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  prevent  his  being 
able  to  view  the  objects  before  him  in  a 
direct  line.  This  was  not  to  be  endured  by 
an  optician ;  he  therefore  took  a  pair  of 
sheers,  and  cut  it  off  by  the  body  of  the 
hat,  leaving  a  little  to  the  front,  which  he 
dexterously  rounded  into  the  resemblance 
of  the  nib  of  a  jockey's  cap.  His  wigs 
were  made  of  brown,  or  of  a  dirty  flaxen 
coloured  hair,  which  at  first  appeared 
bushy  and  tortuous  behind,  but  which 
grew  pendulous  through  age,  till  at  length 
it  became  quite  straight,  having  probably 
never  undergone  the  operation  of  the 
comb;  and  either  through  the  original 
mal-formation  of  the  wig,  or  from  a 
custom  he  had  of  frequently  thrusting  his 
hand  beneath  it,  the  back  part  of  his  head 
and  wife  seldom  came  into  very  close  con- 
tact. His  coat  or  more  properly  jacket, 
or  waistcoat  with  sleeves  to  it,  which  he 
commonly  wore  without  any  other  waist- 
coat, was  of  drab  colour ;  his  linen  was 
more  calculated  for  warmth  and  duration 
than  show,  being  spun  and  bleached  by 


his  wife,  and  woven  at  Hurworth.  In 
cold  weather  he  had  a  custom  of  wearing 
his  shirt  with  the  wrong  side  before,  and 
buttoned  behind  the  neck,  yet  this  was 
not  an  affectation  of  singularity,  (for 
Emerson  had  no  affectation,  though  his 
customs  and  manners  were  singular,)  he 
had  a  reason  for  it;  he  seldom  buttoned 
more  than  two  or  three  buttons  of  his 
waistcoat,  leaving  all  the  rest  open  ;  in 
wind,  rain,  or  snow,  therefore,  he  must 
have  found  the  aperture  at  the  breast  in- 
convenient if  his  shirt  had  been  put  on  in 
the  usual  manner.  When  he  grew  aged, 
in  cold  weather,  he  used  to  wear  what  he 
called  shin-coverf  :  these  were  pieces  of 
old  sacking,  tied  with  strings  above  the 
knee,  and  depending  down  to  the  shoe,  in 
order  to  prevent  his  legs  from  being  scorch- 
ed when  he  sat  too  near  the  fire.  This  sin- 
gularity of  dress  and  figure,  together  with 
his  character  for  profound  learning,  and 
knowledge  more  than  human,  occasioned 
the  illiterate  and  ignorant  to  consider 
him  as  a  cunning  man,  or  necromancer, 
and  various  stories  have  been  related  of 
his  skill  in  the  black  art.  He  affected  an 
appearance  of  infidelity  on  religious  mat- 
ters, and  was  an  example  to  the  vulgar, 
not  a  little  reprehensible.  His  diet  was 
as  simple  and  plain  as  his  dress,  and  his 
meals  gave  little  interruption  either  to 
his  studies,  employments,  or  amusements. 
He  catered  for  himself,  and  pretty  con- 
stantly went  to  Darlington,  to  make  his 
own  markets  ;  yet,  when  he  had  provided 
all  the  necessary  articles,  he  not  unfre- 
quently  neglected  to  return  home  for  a 
day  or  two,  seating  himself  contentedly  in 
some  public  house,  where  he  could  pro- 
cure good  ale  and  company,  and  passing 
the  hours  in  various  topics  of  conversa- 
tion. His  style  of  conversation  was 
generally  abrupt  and  blunt,  and  often  vul- 
gar and  ungrammatical.  This  occasioned 
a  supposition,  that  his  prefaces  were  not 
written  by  himself,  an  opinion  that  was 
one  day  mentioned  to  him,  and  the  dis- 
parity of  his  conversation  and  writing 
pointed  out  as  the  reason.  After  a  mo- 
mentary pause,  he  exclaimed,  with  some 
indignation,  "  A  pack  of  fools !  who  would 
write  my  prefaces  but  myself."  Mr. 
Emerson  often  tried  to  practise  the  effect 
of  his  mathematical  speculations,  by  con- 
structing a  variety  of  instruments,  mathe- 
matical, mechanical,  and  musical,  on  a 
small  scale.  He  made  a  spinning-wheel 
lor  his  wife,  which  is  represented  in  his 
book  of  mechanics.  He  was  well  skilled 


693 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK  —MAY  22,  23. 


694 


in  the  science  of  music,  the  theory  of 
sounds,  and  the  various  scales  both  an- 
cient and  modern  He  was  a  great  con- 
tributor to  the  "Lady's  Diary,"  under  the 
signature  of  u  Merones,"  and  for  many 
years  unknown,  until  a  transposition  of 
letters  discovered  his  name.*  During  the 
greater  part  of  his  life,  his  health  had 
been  strong  and  uninterrupted  ;  but  as  he 
advanced  into  the  vale  of  years,  internal 
complaints  allowed  him  but  little  inter- 
mission of  pain,  and  at  length  deprived 
him  of  breath  on  the  twenty-iirst  of  May, 
1782,  aged  eighty-one  years  and  one 
week.  He  was  buried  in  the  church- 
yard of  his  native  village  where  he  died. 
About  a  twelvemonth  before  his  decease, 
he  was  prevailed  on  after  much  impor- 
tunity, to  sit  for  his  portrait,  which  was 
taken  by  Mr.  Sykes,  for  his  friend  Mr. 
Cloudsley  of  Darlington,  surgeon.  It  is 
said  to  be  a  most  striking  likeness. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  55  •  32 


22. 


SOPS  AND  ALE. 

At  East-Bourn,  in  "a  descriptive  account 
of  that  village  in  the  county  of  Sussex," 
there  is  mention  of  a  very  singular  custom 
having  prevailed  for  many  years  under 
the  denomination  of  "  Sops  and  Ale." 
It  was  productive  of  much  mirth  and 
good  humour,  being  conducted  as  follows  : 
the  senior  bachelor  in  tie  place  was 
elected  by  the  inhabitants,  steward,  and 
to  him  was  delivered  a  damask  napkin, 
a  large  wooden  bowl,  twelve  wooden 
trenchers,  twelve  wooden  knives  and 
forks,  two  wooden  candlesticks,  and  two 
wooden  cups  for  the  reception  of  sugar  ; 
and  on  the  Saturday  fortnight  the  steward 
attended  at  the  church-door,  with  a  white 
wand  in  his  hand,  and  gave  notice  that 
sops  and  ale  would  be  given  that  evening 
at  such  a  place.  Immediately  after  any 
lady,  or  respectable  farmer  or  tradesman's 
wife  became  mother  of  a  child,  the  steward 


called  .at  the  house,  and  begged  permission 
for  "  sops  and  ale ;"  which  was  always 
granted,  and  conducted  in  the  following 
order  : — Three  tables  were  placed  in  some 
convenient  room ;  one  of  which  was 
covered  with  the  above  napkin,  and  had 
a  china  bowl  and  plates,  with  silver 
handled  knives  and  forks  placed  on  it; 
and  in  the  bowl  were  put  biscuits  sopped 
with  wine,  and  sweetened  with  fine  sugar. 
The  second  table  was  also  covered  with  a 
cloth,  with  china,  or  other  earthern  plates, 
and  a  bowl  with  beer  sops,  sweetened 
with  fine  sugar,  and  decent  knives  and 
forks.  The  third  table  was  placed  with- 
out any  cloth ;  and  on  it  were  put  the 
wooden  bowl,  knives,  forks,  and  trenchers, 
as  before  described,  with  the  candlesticks 
and  sugar  cups ;  and  in  the  bowl  were 
beer  sops,  sweetened  with  the  coarsest 
sugar.  As  soon  as  the  evening  service 
was  over,  having  had  previous  notice 
from  the  steward,  the  company  assembled, 
and  were  placed  in  the  following  order  : — 
those  persons  whose  wives  were  mothers 
of  twins,  were  placed  at  the  upper  or 
first  table ;  those  whose  wives  had  a 
child  or  children,  at  the  second  table  ; 
and  such  persons  as  were  married,  and 
had  no  children,  together  with  the  old 
bachelors,  were  -  placed  at  the  third  table, 
which  was  styled  the  bachelors'  table, 
under  which  title  the  gentlemen  who  sat 
at  it,  were  addressed  for  that  evening, 
and  the  gentlemen  at  the  first  tabl?  were 
styled  benchers.  Proper  toasts  were 
given,  adapted  for  the  occasion,  and  the 
company  always  broke  up  at  eight 
o'clock,  generally  very  cheerful  and  good- 
humoured. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  54  •  87. 

23. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

This  is  the  anniversary  of  one  of  the 
great  duke  of  Marlborough's  most  cele- 
brated engagements,  the  battle  of  Ramil- 
les,  a  place  near  Namur  in  the  Nether- 


*    "  Beneath  the  shelter  of  the  silent  elm, 
His  native  elm  (to  sapience  still  a  friend) 
MERO\E.S  loves,  and  meditates  beneatb 
The  verdure  of  thy  leaves  :  see  there 
How  silently  he  sits  !  and  lost  in  thought, 
Weighs  in  his  mind  some  great  design  !    revolves 
He  now  his     Subtile  Fluxions  ?  or  displays 
By  truest  signs  the  Sphere'' s  Projection  wide? 
Wide  as  thy  sphere,  Merones,  be  thy  fame." 
bee  a  poem  on  the  old  Elm  at  Hurworth,  in  Gent.  Man.  f°r  May,  -7A6» 


695 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  24,  25.  26,  27,  28. 


696 


lands,  where,  on  this  day,  in  the  year  1706, 
he  gained  a  memorable  victory  over  the 
French.  It  was  in  this  battle  that  colonel 
Gardiner,  then  an  ensign  in  the  nineteenth 
year  of  his  age,  received  a  shot  in  his 
mouth,  from  a  musket  ball,  which,  with- 
out destroying  any  of  his  teeth,  or  touch- 
ing the  fore  part  of  his  tongue,  went 
through  his  neck,  and  came  out  about  an 
inch  and  a  half  on  the  left  side  of  the 
vertebrae.  He  felt  no  pain,  but  dropped 
soon  after,  and  lay  all  night  among  his 
dying  companions  ;  he  recovered  in  an 
almost  miraculous  manner,  and  became, 
from  a  most  profligate  youth,  a  character 
eminent  for  piety.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  55  •  57. 


24. 


JACK  KETCH  AND  NEWGATE. 
On  this  day,  in  1736,  five  felons  in 
Newgate  were  to  have  been  executed  ;  but 
the  prison  was  so  insecure,that,during  the 
night,  one  of  them  "  took  up  a  board  and 
got  out  of  his  cell,  and  mado  his  escape." 
The  other  four  were  taken  to  Tyburn  and 
suffered  their  sentence;  and  Jack  Ketch 
"  on  his  return  from  doing  his  duty  at 
Tyburn,  robbed  a  woman  of  three  shillings 
and  sixpence."f 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  56  •  42. 

J¥lap  25. 

CORPUS  CHRISTI  DAY. 

On  Corpus  Christi  day,  at  about  a 
quarter  before  one  o'clock  at  noon,  the 
worshipful  company  of  skinners  (attended 
by  a  number  of  boys  which  they  have  in 
Christ's  Hospital  school,  and  girls  strew- 
ing herbs  before  them)  walk  in  procession 
from  their  hall  on  Dow  gate-hill,  to  the 
church  of  St.  Antholin's,  in  Watling-street, 
to  hear  service.  This  custom  has  been 
observed  time  out  of  mind. 

This  notice  is  communicated  by  one  of 
the  company. 

For  other  customs  on  this  festival,  see 
rol.  i.  p.  742  to  758. 


26. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  59  •  35. 

27. 

ADDISON'S  LIBRARY. 
1799.  On  this  and  the  three  following 
days,  the  library  of  the  celebrated  Addi- 
son  was  sold  by  auction  by  Messrs.  Leigh 
and  Sotheby,  at  their  house  in  York-street, 
Covent-garden.  The  books  were  brought 
from  Bilton,  where  Addison  had  resided, 
near  Rugby,  in  Warwickshire,  and  under 
Mr.  Leigh's  hammer  produced  4561. 


There  is  a  portrait  of  Mr  Leigh,  who 
is  since  dead,  from  a  drawing  by  Mr. 
Behnes. 

Mr.  Leigh  dissolved  partnership  with 
Mr.  Sotheby,  his  son  supplied  his  father's 
place,  and  the  business  was  carried 
on  in  the  Strand.  On  Mr.  Leigh's 
death,  his  surviving  partner  continued  it, 
as  he  still  does,  near  the  same  spot  in 
Waterloo-place,  whither  he  removed  in 
consequence  of  the  premises  being  re- 
quired for  other  purposes.  This  estab- 
lishment is  the  oldest  of  the  kind  in  Lon- 
don :  under  Mr.  Sotheby's  management 
its  ancient  reputation  is  supported  :  his 
sales  are  of  the  highest  respectability,  and 
attended  by  the  best  collectors.  Mr. 
Sotheby  sold  the  matchless  niellos  and 
other  prints  of  sir  Mark  Sykes.  For  col- 
lections of  that  nature,  and  for  libraries, 
his  arrangements  are  of  a  most  superior 
order.  One  of  the  greatest  treats  to  a  lover 
of  literature  is  a  lounge  at  Mr.  Sotheby's 
during  one  of  his  sales. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  50. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  52. 

*  Butler's  Chronological  Exercises. 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


28. 

FEMALE  ORDER  OF  MERIT. 

The  journals  of  this  day,  in  1736,  an- 
nounce that  mademoiselle  Salle,  a  famous 
dancer  at  Paris,  who  valued  herself 
highly  on  her  reputation,  instituted  an 
order  there,  of  which  she  was  president, 
by  the  name  of  "the  Indifferents." 
Both  sexes  were  indiscriminately  admit- 
ted after  a  nice  scrutiny  into  their  qu3\i- 


697 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  29. 


fixations.  They  had  rites,  which  no  one 
was  to  disclose.  The  badge  of  the  order 
was  a  ribbon  striped,  black,  white,  and 
yellow,  and  the  device  something  like  an 
icicle.  They  took  an  oath  to  fight  against 
love,  and  if  any  of  the  members  were 
particular  in  their  regards,  they  were  ex- 
cluded the  order  with  ignominy.* 


Gentleman's  Magazine. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  58  •  90. 


K.  CHARLES  II.  RESTORATION. 

For  customs  on  this  day,  see  vol.  i.  p. 
711  to  722. 

This  anniversary  is  an  opportunity 
for  introducing  the  following  curious 


WHERE  CHARLES  II.  WAS  CONCEALED  AFTER  THE  BATTLE  OF  WORCESTER 

This  engraving,  from  a  rare  print   of  from  Boscobel-house,  just  by  ahorse  track 

gieat    value,    represents  Boscobel-house,  passing    through    the   wood,   stood    ths 

in  the  state  it  was  when  Charles  II.  and  royal    oak,  into  which  the  king  and  hft 

colonel  Carlos  took  refuge  there.     They  companion,  colonel  Carlos,  climbed   bj 

remained  in  the  house  till  they  became  means  of  the  henroost  ladder,  when  they 


alarmed  for  their  safety. 


judged  it  no  longer  safe  to   stay  in  the 


Dr  Stukely  mentions  the  straits  to  house ;  the  family  reaching  them  victuals 
which  Charles  was  reduced  during  Ins  with  the  nuthook.  The  tree  is  now  en- 
concealment  at  this  place.  "  Not  far  closed  in  with  a  brick  wall,  the  inside 


u99 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  30,  31. 


700 


whereof  is  covered  with  laurel,  of  which 
we  may  ^ay,  as  Ovid  did  of  that  before 
the  Augustine  palace,  <  mediamque  tue- 
bere  quercum.'  Close  by  its  side  grows 
a  young  thriving  plant  from  one  of  its 
acorns.  Over  the  door  of  the  enclosure, 
I  took  this  inscription  in  marble  : — 

'  Felicissimam  arborem  quam  in  asylum 


potentissimi  Regis  Carol!  II.  Deus  O.  M. 
per  quern  reges  regnant  hie  crescere  voluit, 
tarn  in  perpetuam  rei  tantae  memoriam 
quam  specimen  firmae  in  reges  fidei,  muro 
cinctam  posteris  commenclant  Basilius  et 
Jana  Fitzherbert. 

'  Quercus  arnica  Jovi.' 


s 


,  isoo. 


The  situation  of  the  house  in  the 
above  year,  is  shown  by  the  annexed  en- 
graving, from  a  view  of  it  at  that  period. 

At  a  small  distance  from  Boscobel  is 
Whiteladies,  so  called  from  having  been 
a  nunnery  of  white  or  Cistercian  nuns, 
extensive  ruins  of  which  remain. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  37 

Jlap  so. 

CLERKENWELL,  IN  1730. 

This  day,  in  1730,  being  the  anniversary 
of  the  birth-day  of  the  princess  Amelia 
and  Caroline,  Mr.  Cook,  a  publican,  dis- 
charged twenty-one  guns  in  salute  of 
their  royal  highnesses  as  they  passed  his 
door,  "  to  drink  the  water  at  the  wells 
by  the  New  River  Head  in  the  parish  of 
St.  James,  Clerkenwell."  It  appears 
that  "  almost  every  day  for  the  latter 
part  of  that  month,  there  was  so  great  a 
concourse  of  the  nobility  and  gentry, 


that  the  proprietor  took  about  thirty 
pounds  in  a  morning."*  Clerkenwell, 
therefore,  in  1730,  was  so  fashionable  as 
to  be  the  resort  of  the  court  for  recreation. 
At  that  time  it  had  green  lanes  and  bowl- 
ing-alleys to  delight  the  gentry,  and 
attract  the  citizens  of  the  metropolis.  It 
is  now,  in  1826,  covered  with  houses,  and 
without  a  single  public  place  of  reputable 
entertainment ;  not  even  a  bowling-green. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .     .  58  •  72. 


DEATH  OF  AN  ELEPHANT. 
With  the  destruction  of  the  elephant 
belonging  to  Mr.  Cross,  at.  Exeter  Change, 
described  in  the  present  volume,  may  be 
paralleled  the  destruction  of  another  on 
this  day  in  the  year  1820.     The  particu- 
lars are  related  in  the  "  London  Maga- 
zine" of  April  1,  1826;  they  seem  to  have 
been  translated  from  a  "  Notice  sur  I'Ele 
*  Gentleman's  Magazine 


701 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  31. 


702 


phant  mort  a  Geneve  le  31  Mai  dernier," 
in  the  "  Almanack  Historique,  nomme 
Messager  Boiteux  pour  1'An  de  grace, 
1821,"  which  has  been  sent  to  the  editor 
of  the  Every-Day  Book  for  the  purpose 
of  enabling  him  to  lay  the  annexed  en- 
graving before  the  readers  of  London, 
from  a  print  in  that  "  Almanac,"  which 
in  printed  in  quarto  "  a  Vevey,  chez 
Freres  Lcertscher." 


In  May,  1820,  for  about  a  fortnight  a 
fine  Bengal  elephant  fElephas  Indicus, 
Cuvier — Elephas  Maximus,  Linn.)  had 
been  exhibited  at  Geneva.  The  elephants 
of  this  species  are  taller  than  those  of 
Africa.  They  have  an  elevated  cranium, 
which  has  two  protuberances  on  its  sum- 
mit ;  the  frontal  bone  is  rather  concave, 
and  the  head  proportionably  longer  ;  their 
tusks  are  smaller  than  those  of  the  African 
elephant.  The  animal  in  question  had 
but  one  ;  he  had  lost  the  other  by  some 
accident.  He  was  nine  feet  high,  and  of 
a  dark-brown  colour,  he  was  ten  years 
old,  and  had  been  bought  in  London  six 
years  before.  Mademoiselle  Gamier,  (the 
niece  of  his  proprietor,)  to  whom  he  was 
much  attached,  always  travelled  with  him. 
She  was  the  proprietor  of  an  elephant 
which  had  broken  loose  at  Venice  a  few 
years  previously,  and  was  killed  by  a  can- 
non-shot, after  it  had  committed  consider- 
able ravages  in  that  city. 

The  present  elephant  was  of  a  much 
gentler  character,  and  had  excited  a  gene- 
ral interest  during  its  stay  in  Geneva,  by 
its  docility  and  intelligence  ;  it  performed 
all  the  usual  tricks  which  are  taught  these 
animals,  with  a  promptitude  of  obedience, 
a  dexterity,  and  almost  a  grace,  which 
were  quite  remarkable.  Whenever  made- 
moiselle Gamier  witnessed  his  exercises, 
her  presence  seemed  to  call  forth  all  these 
qualities  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  Ac- 
cording to  her  statement  he  was  so  fa- 
miliar and  social  that  he  had  more  than 
once  appeared  on  the  stage  at  Lille,  Ant- 
werp, &c.  playing  the  principal  part  in  a 
procession,  and  seeming  proud  to  carry 
the  lady  who  acted  the  princess,  before 
whom  he  would  kneel  to  take  her  on  his 
back.  So  far  from  being  frightened  at  the 
lights,  the  music,  and  the  noise  of  the 
house,  he  seemed  delighted  to  take  a  part 
in  the  ceremony. 

Accustomed  to  liberty,  and  much  as  he 
loved  it,  he  yet  endured  confinement  with 
oatience,  and  when  his  keeper  came  to 


fasten  him  up  for  the  night,  he  used  to 
stretch  out  his  foot  to  receive  the  iron  ring 
by  which  he  was  chained  till  morning,  to 
a  post  deeply  fixed  in  the  earth.  Unlike 
these  animals  in  England,  he  did  not 
travel  in  a  cage,  but  was  led  from  one 
town  to  another  by  night ;  he  had  three 
drivers,  his  keeper,  properly  so  called,  and 
two  others,  one  of  whom  had  always  in- 
spired him  with  more  fear  than  attachment. 
During  the  latter  part  of  his  stay  at 
Geneva  he  had  exhibited  symptoms  of  ex- 
citement and  restlessness,  arising  from  two 
causes — the  one,  the  frequent  discharges 
of  musketry  from  the  soldiers  who  were 
exercised  near  his  habitation,  at  which  he 
was  greatly  irritated ;  the  other,  the  pa- 
roxysms to  which  these  animals  are  sub- 
ject for  several  weeks  in  the  spring. 
Nevertheless,  he  had  never  disobeyed  nor 
menaced  his  keepers. 

His  departure  was  fixed  for  the  31st  of 
May.  He  left  Geneva  at  midnight,  the 
gates  and  drawbridges  having  been  opened 
for  that  purpose  by  permission  of  the 
syndic  of  the  guard,  the  magistrate  at  the 
head  of  the  military  police.  He  was 
driven  by  his  keeper  and  his  two  assist- 
ants, who  carried  a  lantern.  Mademoi- 
selle Gamier  was  to  follow  in  the  morn- 
ing. He  made  no  difficulty  in  crossing 
the  drawbridge,  and  took  the  road  to 
Switzerland  apparently  in  high  spirits. 
But  about  a  quarter  of  a  league  from 
the  town  he  appeared  out  of  humour 
with  the  keeper,  and  disposed  to  attack 
him.  The  man  ran  away  towards  the 
city  ;  the  elephant  pursued  him  up  to  the 
gate,  which  the  officer  on  guard  opened, 
on  his  own  responsibility,  wisely  calcu- 
lating that  it  would  be  more  easy  to  se- 
cure him  within  the  town  than  without  it, 
and  that  he  might  do  immense  mischief 
on  the  high  roads,  especially  as  it  was  the 
market-day  at  Geneva.  He  re-entered  the 
town  without  hesitation,  pursuing,  rather 
than  following  his  keeper  and  guides,  be- 
tween whom  and  himself  all  influence, 
whether  of  attachment  or  of  fear,  seemed 
at  an  end.  From  this  moment  he  was  his 
own  master. 

He  walked  for  some  time  in  the  place 
de  Saint  Gervais,  appearing  to  enjoy  his 
liberty  and  the  beauty  of  the  night.  He 
lay  down  for  a  few  minutes  on  a  heap  of 
sand,  prepared  for  some  repairs  in  the 
pavement,  and  played  with  the  stones  col- 
lected for  the  same  purpose.  Perceiving 
one  of  his  guides,  who  was  watching  him 
from  the  entrance  of  one  oi  the  bridges 


703 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  31. 


704 


over  the  Rhone,  he  ran  at  him,  and  would 
have  attacked  him,  and  probably  done 
him  some  serious  injury,  if  he  had  not 
escaped. 

Mademoiselle  Gamier  having  been  in- 
formed of  what  had  passed,  hastened  to 
the  spot,  and  trusting  to  the  attachment 
he  had  always  shown  for  her,  went  up  to 
him  with  great  courage,  with  some  dain- 
ties of  which  he  was  particularly  fond,  and 
speaking  to  him  with  gentleness  and  con- 
fidence, led  him  into  a  place  enclosed 
with  walls  near  the  barrack  he  had  inha- 
bited, into  which  he  could  not  be  induced 
to  return.  This  place,  called  the  Bastion 
d'Hollande,  adjoined  a  shed  containing 
caissoons,  waggons,  and  gun-carriages; 
there  were  also  cannon-balls  piled  up  in 
an  adjoining  yard.  Being  left  alone,  and 
the  gate  shut  upon  him,  he  amused  him- 
self with  trying  his  strength  and  skill  upon 
every  thing  within  his  reach ;  he  raised 
several  caissoons  and  threw  them  on  their 
sides,  and  seemed  pleased  at  turning  the 
wheels;  he  took  up  the  balls  with  his 
trunk,  and  tossed  them  in  the  air,  and  ran 
about  with  a  vivacity  which  might  have 
been  ascribed  either  to  gaiety  or  to  irrita- 
tion. 

At  two  in  the  morning,  the  syndic  of 
the  guard  being  informed  of  the  circum- 
stance, went  to  the  spot  to  consult  on  the 
measures  to  be  taken.  Mademoiselle  Gar- 
nier  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  distress  and 
agitation,  entreated  that  the  elephant 
might  be  killed  in  the  most  speedy  and 
certain  way  possible.  The  syndic,  sharing 
in  the  general  feeling  of  interest  the  noble 
and  gentle  creature  had  excited  in  the 
town,  opposed  her  desire.  He  represented 
that  the  animal  was  now  in  a  place  of  se- 
curity against  all  danger,  whether  to  the 
public  or  himself;  and  that  as  his  present 
state  of  irritation  was,  in  its  very  nature, 
transient,  and  would  soon  yield  to  a  pro- 
per regimen  ;  but  mademoiselle  Gamier 
remembered  the  occurrences  at  Venice, 
and  felt  the  whole  weight  and  responsi- 
bility of  the  management  of  the  animal 
was  on  herself  alone  ;  for  the  keeper  and 
guides  had  decidedly  refused  to  attend 
upon  him  again,  and  she  persisted  in  her 
demand.  The  magistrate  would  not  give 
his  consent  until  it  was  put  into  writing 
and  signed. 

From  that  moment  arrangements  were 
made  for  destroying  him.  The  chemists 
were  laid  under  contribution  for  drugs, 
while  two  breaches  were  made  in  the 
wall,  at  each  of  which  a  four-pounder  was 


placed,  which  was  to  be  the  ratio  ultima 
if  the  poison  failed. 

M.  Mayor,  eminent  as  a  surgeon,  and 
for  his  learning  in  natural  history,  and 
one  of  the  directors  of  the  museum,  had 
taken  great  delight  in  visiting  the  elephant 
during  his  stay,  and  the  animal  had 
evinced  a  particular  affection  for  him. 
This  induced  the  magistrate  to  request 
M.  Mayor  to  administer  the  poison.  M. 
Mayor,  after  mixing  about  three  ounces  of 
prussic  acid  with  about  ten  ounces  of 
brandy,  which  was  the  animal's  favourite 
liquor,  called  him  by  his  name  to  one  of 
the  breaches.  The  elephant  came  imme- 
diately, seized  the  bottle  with  his  trunk, 
and  swallowed  the  liquor  at  one  draught, 
as  if  it  had  been  his  usual  drink.  This 
poison,  the  operation  of  which,  even  in  the 
smallest  doses,  is  usually  tremendously 
rapid,  did  not  appear  to  produce  any  sen- 
sible effect  on  him  ;  he  walked  backwards 
with  a  firm  step  to  the  middle  of  the 
enclosure,  where  he  lay  down  for  some 
moments.  It  was  thought  that  the  poison 
was  beginning  to  act,  but  he  soon  rose 
again,  and  began  to  play  with  the  cais- 
soons, and  to  walk  about  in  the  court- 
yard of  the  arsenal.  M.  Mayor,  presum- 
ing that  the  prussic  acid  which  had  been 
kept  some  time  had  lost  its  strength,  pre- 
pared three  boluses  of  an  ounce  of  arsenic 
each,  mixed  with  honey  and  sugar.  The 
elephant  came  again  at  his  call,  and  took 
them  all  from  his  hand.  At  the  expira- 
tion of  a  quarter  of  .an  hour,  he  did  not 
appear  at  all  affected  by  them.  A  fresh 
dose  was  then  offered  him ;  he  took  it, 
smelt  at  it  for  some  minutes,  then  threw 
it  to  a  distance,  and  began  again  to  play 
all  sorts  of  tricks.  Sometimes  he  came  to 
the  breach,  and,  twining  his  trunk  round 
the  mouth  of  the  cannon,  pushed  it  back 
as  if  he  had  some  indistinct  notion  of  the 
danger  which  threatened  him. 

It  was  five  in  the  morning  when  the 
first  dose  of  poison  was  administered  ; 
an  hour  had  elapsed,  and  no  symptom  of 
its  internal  action  appeared.  Meanwhile 
the  market  time  drew  near,  the  space 
around  the  walls  was  rapidly  filling  with  in- 
quisitive spectators,and  the  order  was  given 
to  fire.  The  gunner  seized  the  moment 
in  which  the  elephant,  who  had  advanced 
to  the  breach,  was  retiring,  and  presented 
his  side.  The  mouth  of  the  cannon  almost 
touched  him.  The  ball  entered  near  the 
ear  behind  the  right  eye,  came  out  behind 
the  left  ear,  went  through  a  thick  par- 
tition on  the  opposite  side  of  the  en  closure, 


705 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  31. 


705 


and  spent  itself  against  a  wall.      The  ani-    then  tottered,  and  fell  on  his  sme  without 
nfial  stood  still  for  two  or  three  seconds      convulsion  or  movement, 


of  tbe  <0lepl)ant  at  <§enefaa,  j¥lap  31,  1820. 


The  above  engraving,  from  that  in  the 
foreign  almanac  already  mentioned,  re- 
presents the  manner  wherein  his  death 
was  effected. 

The  event  circulated  through  the  town 
with  the  rapidity  of  lightning.  "  They 
have  killed  the  elephant !"  "  What  had  the 
noble  creature  done  ?  he  was  so  good,  so 
gentle,  so  amiable  !"  "  What  a  pity  !" 
The  people  ran  with  one  accord  to  the 
spot,  to  satisfy  (Themselves  with  a  nearer 
view.  The  eagerness  was  so  great  that 
the  authorities  were  obliged  to  take  steps 
for  keeping  order  in  the  crowd,  and  a 
small  sum  of  money  was  demanded  from 
each  for  the  benefit  of  the  proprietor.  The 
93"ie  evening,  by  arrangements  entered 
into  with  mademoiselle  Gamier,  for  secur- 

VOL.  II.- 75 


ing  the  remains  of  the  animal  for  the 
museum,  the  surgeons  proceeded  to  open 
the  body,  which  they  continued  to  dissect 
for  several  successive  days.  The  opera- 
tions were  executed  by  M.  Mayor, 
the  chevalier  Bourdet,  a  naturalist  and 
traveller,  and  M.Vichet,  an  eminent  pupil 
of  the  veterinary  surgeon  of  Alfort.  They 
took  an  exact  measurement  of  the  animal. 
They  traced  its  silhouette  on  the  wall  ; 
and  made  separate  casts  of  its  head,  and  the 
two  feet  of  one  side.  All  the  principal 
viscera,  except  the  liver,  which  decom- 
posed too  rapidly,  and  the  brain,which  was 
shattered  by  the  ball,  were  carefully  re- 
moved and  preserved  in  a  solution  of 
oxygenated  muriate  of  mercury.  The 
spleen  was  six  feet  long.  The  muscular 


707 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  Hi. 


708 


or  fleshy  parts,  as  the  season  would  not 
allow  of  their  slow  dissection,  were  taken 
away  rather  by  the  hatchet  than  the  bis- 
toury. They  were  given  to  the  public, 
who  were  extremely  eager  and  anxious 
to  eat  elephant's  flesh,  and  much  tempted 
by  its  excellent  appearance,  dressed  as  it 
was  with  every  variety  of  sauce.  They 
seemed  perfectly  regardless  of  the  poison, 
which  indeed  had  not  time  to  develope 
itself  in  the  muscular  system.  Three  or 
four  hundred  persons  ate  of  it  without  in- 
jury, excepting  one  or  two  individuals, 
who  brought  on  a  fit  of  indigestion  by  in- 
dulging to  excess.  The  osseous  carcass  was 
put  into  a  state  of  maceration  previous  to 
re-composing  the  skeleton,  in  order  to  its 
deposit  in  the  museum  of  natural  history. 
The  interest  taken  in  that  establishment 
was  so  strong,  that  the  large  sum  required 
to  secure  possession  of  the  entire  carcass, 
was  raised  by  subscription  in  a  few  days. 
The  skin  was  found  too  thick  to  be  tanned 
by  the  ordinary  process,  and  as  the  epi- 
dermis began  to  detach  itself  naturally,  it 
was  carefully,  separated  from  the  dermis, 
which  it  was  not  essential  to  preserve  en- 
tire. The  epidermis  retained  its  proper 
consistency,  in  order  to  be  supplied  by  a 
well-known  process  in  covering  the  arti- 
ficial carcass,  constructed  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Messrs.  Mayor  and  Bourdet. 

If  mademoiselle  Gamier  had  not  suc- 
ceeded in  enticing  the  animal  to  the  place 
where  his  destruction  was  effected,  the 
mischief  he  might  have  occasioned  by  re- 
maining at  large,  till  the  inhabitants  of 
Geneva  had  risen  from  their  beds  to  their 
daily  occupations,  can  scarcely  be  ima- 
gined ;  especially  as  it  was  on  a  market- 
day,  when  the  city  is  usually  thronged 
with  country  people,  and  most  persons 
are  necessarily  out  of  doors. 


May  Custom  at  Buckingham. 
RINGING  THE  OLD  BAILIFF  our. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, — On  this  day,  unusual  bustle  set  the 
town  of  Buckingham  alive.  It  was  the  fes- 
tive consecration  of  the  first  Sunday  after 
May-day.  Having  taken  care  of  my  horse 
and  left  the  inn,  I  heard  a  band  of  music 
approaching  the  church,  which  is  a  cheer- 
ful edifice,  standing  on  an  eminence  with 
a  painted  glass  window.  The  bells  rung 
merrily,  and  the  sunshine  gave  lustre  to 
the  surrounding  country,  beautified  by 
light  and  shade.  The  main  street  was 


presently  lined  with  townspeople  and 
villagers.  My  inquiries  as  to  the  cause 
of  this  "  busy  hum  of  men"  were  soon 
satisfied  by  the  cry  that,  "  They're  ring- 
ing the  old  bailiff  out !"  As  the  musicians 
(not  of  the  opera  band,  nor  of  the  Hano- 
ver rooms,)  came  nearer  with  the  accu 
mula  ing  procession,  I  with  difficulty 
learned  the  theme  of  their  endeavours  to 
be  Weber's  "  Hark  !  follow  P  I  never 
heard  any  thing  surpass  this  murder  of 
melody.  Had  Weber  been  present,  he 
would  not  have  regretted  he  had  given 
the  MS.  of  Der  Freischiitz,  to  discharge 
a  trifling  debt,  which  am  informed  was 
really  the  case.  Such  discord,  however, 
worked  no  "  incantation''  here.  All  faces 
smiled,  all  hearts  appeared  glad.  The 
cavalcade  moved  in  pairs.  First  two 
small  children  in  white  with  garlands, 
then,  behind  them,  two,  a  size  larger ;  then 
others,  increasing  in  growth  and  tallness, 
till  six  wreathed  maidens  and  their  swains 
moved  onwards,  dancing  and  shaking 
their  curly  locks  in  sportive  glee  around 
the  Maypole,  decorated  in  the  habiliments 
of  nature's  sweetest  and  choicest  spring 
flowers  and  boughs.  Dolls  of  various 
dresses  were  placed  in  the  midst,  as 
though  they  looked  out  of  bowers  for  the 
arrival  of  kindred  playfellows.  Then 
came  his  worship,  the  bailiff,  a  sir  John 
Falstaff-like  sort  of  person,  swelling  with 
pleasurable  consequence;  the  shining 
mace  borne  on  the  shoulder  intimated 
his  dignity.  What  a  happy  day  of  ho- 
nour, of  triumph,  and  greatness  to  him ! 
Then  followed  the  leading  men  of  the 
town,  the  burgesses  in  their  corporate 
robes  and  nosegays.  Their  friends  parad- 
ed aside  in  their  Sunday  clothes,  like 
"ladies  of  olden  days"  and  "squires  of 
high  degree."  Favours  and  flags  played 
on  the  fresh  air,  inviting  rural  enjoyment. 
Many  rosy-faced  damosels  in  their  "  best 
bibs  and  tuckers"  illustrated  the  time  by 
appearing  at  the  windows;  infants  were 
held  up  to  behold,  and  the  aged  crept  to 
the  doors,  to  take  a  glimpse  of  what  they 
might  not  live  to  see  repeated.  As  the 
procession  arrived  at  the  churchyard  gate, 
soldiers  were  arranged  in  line,  preparing 
to  meet  and  unite  in  the  gaiety  of  the  day. 
It  is  thus  pleasant  to  view  the  military 
and  civil  powers,  peacefully  ornamenting 
the  general  harmony  of  the  season.  The 
subordinates  and  illustrators  of  this  annual 
custom,  opened  a  passage  at  the  church 
door,  and  the  bailiff  led  the  way  into  his 
seat.  The  bells  rested  their  metal  tongues, 


709 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—MAY  31 


710 


and  the  music  ceased  awhile.  People  of 
all  descriptions,  in  all  directions,  hurried 
to  their  respective  pews,  with  accommo- 
dating civility  to  strangers.  The  curate 
opened  his  book  and  his  duties,  the  cleik 
unsheathed  his  spectacles,  confined  his 
nostrils,  and  the  service  was  reverently 
performed,  with  a  suitable  discourse  and 
decent  melody.  After  this  was  ended, 
the  bailiff  and  his  friends  returned  in  like 
order  as  they  came,  perambulating  the 
precincts  of  the  town.  Then  the  glory  of 
all  true  Britons,  was  manifested  by  the 
clatter  of  knives  and  forks,  at  the  favourite 
depot  for  provisions,  and  genuine  hilarity 
closed  the  "  ringing  out  of  the  old  bailiff," 
and  the  ringing  in  of  the  new  one. 

J.  R.  PRIOR. 


With    the    preceding    communication 
from  Mr.  Prior,  are  the  following  verses. 

To  the  Dead  Nettle. 

Unlike  the  rose, 

Thou  hast  not  bards  to  sing 
Thy  merits  as  thy  beauty  grows 

'Neath  hedges  in  the  spring. 

Unconscious  flower ! 

Thy  downcast  blossom  seems 
Like  'widowed  thought  in  sorrow's  hour 

Away  from  pleasure's  beams. 

Young  feeling's  eye 

Surveys  thee  in  thy  vernal  bed, 
Protected  from  the  glare  of  sky, 

By  lovely  nature  fed. 

He,  that  would  learn 

Sermons  from  thine  eternal  birth, 
Might  safely  to  the  world  return 

And  triumph  over  earth. 

J.  R.  PRIOR. 

A  MAY-DAY. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, — If  you  think  the  following  lines 
worth     insertion    in      your    Every-Day 
Book,  you  are  welcome  to  them. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c 

King's  Bench  Walk,         H.  M.  LANDER. 
Temple. 

SONG. 

Tis  May  !  'tis  May  !  the  skylarks  sing, 
The  swallow  tribe  is  on  the  wing, 
The  emerald  meads  look  fresh  and  gay, 
And  smiles  the  golden  orb  of  dav. 
Tis  May  !  'tis  May  '  the  voice  of  love 
Inspiring  calls  to  yonder  grove  ; 
Then  let  us  to  the  shades  repair, 
Where  hea'th.  and  mi  t\  and  music  are. 


'Tis  May  !  'tis  May  !  air,  earth,  and  flood, 
With  life  and  beauty  are  endowed  : 
Myriads  of  forms  creep,  glide,  and  soar, 
Exultant  through  the  genial  hour. 

Tis  May !  'tis  May  !  why  should  not  map 

Embrace  the  universal  plan, 

Enjoy  the  seasons  as  they  roll, 

And  love  while  love  inspires  the  soul. 

'Tis  May  !  'tis  May  !  the  flowers  soon  fade, 
And  voiceless  grows  the  sylvan  shade  : 
The  insects  fall  mid  autumn's  gloom, 
And  man  is  hastening  to  the  tomb. 

'Tis  May  !  'tis  May  !  the  flowers  revive  ! 
Again  the  insect  revellers  live  ! 
But  man's  lost  bloom  no  charms  restore, 
His  youth  once  pass'd,  returns  no  more. 


Uulre  JBomunu 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — It  may  not,  perhaps,  be  generally 
known  what  it  was  that  gave  rise  to  the 
writing  of  the  old  breaking-up  song  of 
"  Dulce  Domum,"  so  loudly  and  so  cheer- 
fully sung  by  youngsters  previous  to  the 
vacation ;  and  as  an  old  custom  is  involved 
in  it,  you  may  deem  both  the  song  and 
the  custom  worthy  a  place  in  your  Every- 
Day  Book.  They  are  subjoined. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

Leadenhall  Street,        HENRY  BRANDON. 
May,  1826. 

About  two  hundred  and  thirty  years 
ago,  a  scholar  of  St.  Mary's  college 
Winchester  was,  for  some  offence  com- 
mitted, confined  by  order  of  the  master, 
and  it  being  just  previous  to  the  Whit- 
suntide vacation,  was  not  permitted 
to  visit  his  friends,  but  remained  a 
prisoner  at  the  college,  as  report  says, 
tied  to  a  pillar.  During  this  period  he 
composed  the  well  known  "  Dulce  do- 
mum"  being  the  recollections  of  the 
pleasures  he  was  wont  to  join  in,  at  that 
season  of  the  year.  Grief  at  the  disgrace 
and  the  disappointment  he  endured,  so 
heavily  affected  him,  that  he  did  not  live 
to  witness  the  return  of  his  companions, 
at  the  end  of  their  holydays. 

In  commemoration  of  the  above,  an- 
nually on  the  evening  preceding  the 
Whitsun  holydays,  the  master,  scholars, 
and  choristers  of  the  above  college,  at- 
tended by  a  band  of  music,  walk  in  pro- 
cession round  the  court  of  the  college 
and  the  pillar  to  which  it  is  alleged  the 
unfortunate  youth  was  tied,  and  chant 
the  verses  which  he  composed  in  his 
affliction. 


711 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  31. 


712 


UULCE  DOMUM  ! 

Concinamus,  O  sodales ! 
Eja  !  quid  silemus  ? 

Mobile  canticum ! 
Dulce  melos,  domum  ! 
Dulce  domum,  resonemus. 

Chorus. 

Domum,  domum,  dulce  domum  ; 
Domum,  domum,  dulce  domum  ! 
Dulce,  dulce,  domum  ! 
Dulce  domum,  resoneraus ! 

Appropinquat  ecce !  felix 

Hora  gaudiorum, 
Post  grave  tedium 
Advenit  omnium 

Meta  petit  a  labor  um. 

Domum,  domum,  &c. 

Musa,  libros  mitte,  fessa, 

Mitte  pensa  dura, 
Mitte  negotium 
Jam  datur  otiutn, 

Me  mea  mittito  cura. 

Domum,  domum,  &c. 

Ridet  annus,  prata  ridcnt ; 

Nosque  r  ideamus, 
Jam  repetit  domum, 
Daulius  advena : 

Nosque  domum  repetamus, 

Domum,  domum,  &c. 

Hens  !  Rogere,  fer  caballoa ; 

Eja,  mine  eamus. 
Limen  amabile 
Matris  et  oscula, 

Suaviter  et  repetamus, 

Domum,  domum,  &e. 

Concinamus  ad  Penates, 

Vox  et  audiatur ; 
Phosphore  !  quid  jubar, 
Segnius  e mi  cans, 

Gaudia  nostra  moratur  ? 

Domum,  domum,  &c. 

The   above   was  put  into  an  English 
dress,  a  copy  of  which  is  below  : 

Sing  a  sweet  melodious  measure, 

Waft  enchanting  lays  around  ; 
Home !  a  theme  replete  with  pleasure  ! 

Home  !  a  grateful  theme  resound  ! 

Chorus. 

Home,  sweet  home  !  an  ample  treasure  ! 

Home  i  with  every  blessing  crown'd  ! 
Home !  perpetual  source  of  pleasure  ! 

Home  !  a  noble  strain,  resound. 

Lo  !  the  joyful  hour  advances  ; 

Happy  season  of  delight! 
Festal  songs,  and  festal  dances, 

All  our  tedious  toil  requite. 

Home,  &e. 


Leave,  my  wearied  muse,  thy  learning, 

Leave  thy  task,  so  hard  to  bear  ; 
Leave  thy  labour,  ease  returning, 

Leave  this  bosom,  O  !  my  care. 

Home,  &c. 
See  the  year,  the  meadow,  smiling  I 

Let  us  then  a  smile  display, 
Rural  sports,  our  pain  beguiling, 

Rural  pastimes  call  away. 

Home,  &c. 

Now  the  swallow  seeks  her  dwelling, 

And  no  longer  roves  to  roam  ; 
Her  example  thus  impelling, 

Let  us  seek  our  native  home. 

Home,  &c, 
Let  our  men  and  steeds  assemble, 

Panting  for  the  wide  champaign  ; 
Let  the  ground  beneath  us  tremble, 

While  we  scour  along  the  plain. 

Home,  &c. 
Oh  !  what  raptures,  oh  !  what  blisses. 

When  we  gain  the  lovely  gate  ! 
Mother's  arms,  and  mother's  kisses, 

There,  our  bless' d  arrival  wait. 

Home,  &c. 

Greet  our  bousehold-gods  with  singing, 

Lend,  O  Lucifer,  thy  ray; 
Why  should  light,  so  slowly  springing, 

All  our  promis'd  joys  delay  ? 

Home,  &c. 


Mr.  Brandon's  account  of  the  "pro- 
cession round  the  courts  of  the  college," 
and  the  singing  of  "  Dulce  Domum,"  is 
sustained  by  the  rev.  Mr.  Brand,  who 
adds,  of  the'song,  that  "  it  is  no  doubt  of 
very  remote  antiquity,  and  that  its  origin 
must  be  traced,  not  to  any  ridiculous  tra- 
dition, but  to  the  tenderest  feelings  of 
human  nature."  He  refers  for  the  English 
verses  to  the  "Gentleman's  Magazine," 
for  March,  1 796,  where  they  first  appear- 
ed, and  calls  them  "a  spirited  transla- 
tion." On  looking  into  that  volume,  it 
seems  they  were  written  by  one  of  Mr. 
Urban 's  correspondents,  who  signs  "J.  R." 
and  dates  from  "  New-street,  Hanover- 
square."  Dr.  Milner  says,  that  from 
"  amongst  many  translations  of  this  Win- 
chester ode,"  the  present  "  appears  best 
to  convey  the  sense,  spirit,  and  measure, 
of  the  original ;  the  former  versions  were 
unworthy  of  it."  He  alleges  that  the 
existence  of  the  original  can  only  be 
traced  up  to  the  distance  of  about  a  cen- 
tury ;  yet  its  real  author,  and  the  occa- 
sion of  its  composition,  are  already  cloud- 
ed with  fables.* 

*  Milner's  Hist    of  Winchester. 


713 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  31. 


714 


AMERICAN  VOCAL  Music. 
By  the  favour  of  a  correspondent  in 
North  America,  we  are  enabled  to  extract 
from  the  "Colonial  Advocate"  of  Queens- 
ton,  the  following  interesting  article,  by  a 
Scotch  resident,  on  the  state  of  melody 
in  the  region  he  inhabits.  It  particularly 
relates  to  May. 

SCOTTISH  SONGS. 

*'  Dear  Scotia  !  o'er  the  swelling  sea 
From  childhood's  hopes,  from  friends,  from 

thee, 

On  earth  where'er  thy  offspring  roam, 
This  day  their  hearts  should  wander  home. 
Her  sons  are  brave,  her  daughters  fair, 
Her  gowan  glens  no  slave  can  share, 
Then  from  the  feeling  never  stray, 
That  loves  the  land  that's  far  away." 

Sung   by  Mr.   May  wood,    on  St.  Andrew's 

day,  in  New  York. 

I  have  often  thought  it  a  pity  that  there 
is  no  feature  in  which  Canada,  and  in- 
deed America  in  general,  exhibits  more 
dissimilarity  to  Scotland,  than  in  its 
want  of  vocal  music.  On  the  highland 
hills,  and  in  the  lowland  vallies,  of  Cale- 
donia, we  are  delighted  with  the  music  of 
the  feathered  choristers,  who  fill  heaven 
in  a  May  morning  with  their  matin  songs. 
The  shepherd  whistles  "  The  Yellow 
Hair'd  Laddie" — the  shepherdess  sings 
"  In  April  when  primroses  deck  the 
sweet  plain" — all  nature  seems  in  har- 
mony. But  here  all  is  dulness  and  mo- 
notony, 

*'  We  call  on  pleasure — and  around 
A  mocking  world  repeats  the  sound  !" 
Even  the  emigrant  seems  to  have  forgot- 
ten his  native  mountains ;  and  in  the  five 
years  in  which  I  have  sojourned  in  Ame- 
rica, I  have  not  once  heard  "  Roslin 
Castle"  sung  by  a  swain  on  a  blithe 
summer's  day.  Here  they  are  all  dull 
plodding  farmers,  as  devoid  of  sober  me- 
lody as  the  huge  forests  which  surround 
them  are  void  of  grace  and  beauty :  talk 
to  them  of  poetry  and  music,  and  they 
will  sit  with  sad  civility,  "as  silent  as 
Pygmalion's  wife." 

Now  and  then  you  may  hear  a  hoarse 
raven  of  an  old  woodchopper  in  the  bar- 
room of  a  filthy  tavern,  roaring  in  discor- 
dant notes,  "  Yankee  Doodle  :'*  or,  in  a 
church  or  meeting-house,  you  may  be- 
hold fifteen  or  twenty  men  and  women 
picked  out  of  the  congregation,  stuck  up 
in  a  particular  part  of  the  house  and  sing- 
ing the  praises  of  redeeming  love,  with 
'he  voices  of  so  many  stentors.  The 


affectation  they  display,  cannot  fail  tc 
disgust  you  :  the  form  of  godliness  is 
present,  but  the  power  thereof  is  wanting. 

The  memory  of  a  native  Scotsman  re- 
traces back  those  halcyon  days,  when 
gladness  filled  the  corn-field — when  so- 
ber mirth  and  glee  crowned  the  maiden 
feast — when  the  song  went  merrily  round 
at  Yule,  to  chase  away  the  winter  frosts  ; 
and  coming  to  the  day  of  universal 
rest  from  labour,  calls  to  mind  the  ve- 
nerable precentor  with  his  well-remem- 
bered solemn  tunes,  where  old  and 
young,  infancy  and  advanced  age,  will- 
ingly joined  together  in  singing  HIS 
praise — where  the  fiddle  and  the  flute, 
the  harp  and  the  organ,  were  useless — 
where  no  set  people  stood  up  in  a  corner, 
as  if  to  say,  "  we,  the  aristocracy  of 
this  congregation,  can  offer  a  sweeter 
and  more  acceptable  sacrifice  than  you, 
with  our  melodious  voices  so  much  better 
attuned  than  yours." 

It  may,  perhaps,  appear  irreverend  in 
me,  to  say  a  word  of  sacred  music  in  an 
essay  intended  for  Scottish  songs ;  but  I 
thought  the  contrast  would  not  be  com- 
plete without  this  allusion.  A  late  es- 
sayist "  On  vulgar  prejudices  against 
Literature,"  uses  a  fine  argument  in 
favour  of  native  poetry. 

"  Let  us  ask,''  say's  he,  "  has  Britain 
a  greater  claim  to  distinction  among 
the  nations  of  the  world,  from  any  one 
circumstance,  however  celebrated  it  be 
in  arts  and  arms,  than  from  its  being 
the  birthplace  of  Shakspeare?  And  if 
the  celebration  of  the  anniversary  of 
Waterloo  be  held  in  the  farthest  settle- 
ments of  India,  so  is  the  anniversary  of 
the  birth  of  Robert  Burns,  the  pastoral 
poet  of  Scotland  : — 

"  Encamped  by  Indian  rivers  wild, 

The  soldier,  resting  on  his  arms, 

In  Burns's  carol  sweet  recalls 

The  scenes  that  blest  him  when  a  child,' 

And  glows  and  gladdens  at  the  charms 

Of  Scotia's  woods  and  waterfalls." 

When  kingdoms,  and  states,  and  cities 
pass  away,  what  then  proves  to  be  the 
most  imperishable  of  their  records,  the 
most  durable  of  their  glories?  Is  it 
not  the  lay  of  the  poet?  the  eloquence 
of  the  patriot?  the  page  of  the  histo- 
rian ?  Is  it  not  the  genius  of  the  nation, 
imprinted  on  these,  the  most  splendid 
of  its  annals,  and  transmitted,  as  a 
legacy,  and  a  token  of  its  vanished  glory, 
to  the  after  ages  of  mankind  ?  And 


715 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— MAY  31. 


716 


now,  when  the  glories  of  Greece  and 
Rome  are  but  shadows,  does  not  our 
blood  stir  within  us  at  the  recital  of 
their  mighty  achievements,  and  of  their 
majestic  thoughts,  which,  but  for  the 
page  of  the  chronicler  would  have  been 
long  ere  now  a  blank  and  a  vacancy ; 
glory  departed  without  a  trace,  or  figures 
traced  upon  the  sand,  and  washed  away 
by  the  returns  of  the  tide  : — 

"  Oh  !  who  shall  lightly  say  that  fame, 
Is  nothing  but  an  empty  name  ? 
When,  but  for  those,  our  mighty  dead, 

All  ages  past  a  blank  would  be, 
Sunk  in  oblivion's  murky  bed, 

A  desert  bare,  a  shipless  sea. 

They  are  the  distant  objects  seen  ; 
The  lofty  marks  of  what  hath  been, 
Oh  !  who  shall  lightly  say  that  fame 
Is  nothing  but  an  empty  name  ? 

Where  memory  of  the  mighty  dead 
To  earth-worn  pilgrims'  wistful  eye 

The  brightest  rays  of  cheering  shed, 
That  point  to  immortality," 

The  blue  hills  and  mountains,  among 
\vnich  Byron  first  caught  the  enthusiasm 
of  song ;  the  green  vallies  and  brown 
heaths  where  Scott  learnt  to  tell  of 
Flodden  field,  and  deeds  of  other  days,  in 
verse,  lasting  as  the  source  of  the  deep 
Niagara,  yet  return  an  echo  to  the  well- 
known  "  Daintie  Davie"  of  Robert  Burns. 

As  down  the  burn  they  took  their  way, 
And  through  the  flowery  dale, 

His  cheek  to  hers  he  aft  did  lay, 
And  love  was  aye  the  tale. 

With  "  Mary,  when  shall  we  return, 

Sic  pleasure  to  renew  ?" 
Quoth  Mary,  "  Love,  1  like  the  burn, 

And  aye  shall  follow  you." 

How  I  should  delight  to  hear  such  an 
artless  tale  sung  on  the  braes  of  Queens- 
ton,  or  the  green  knowes  and  fertile 
plains  around  Ancaster. 

I  once  in  Montreal  heard  a  gentleman 
from  little  York  (a  native  of  Perthshire) 
sing  "  Daintie  Davie"  in  fine  style  ;  but  it 
was  the  old  set,  and  as  it  is  a  very  good 
song,  I  think  the  first  stanza  and  chorus 
may  "  drive  dull  care  away"  from  half  a 
dozen  of  my  readers  as  well  as  a  good 
hit  at  that  silly  body,  our  sapient  at- 
torney-general, or  a.  squib  at  his  forkhead 
Mr.  Solicitor,  would  have  done  : — 

"  Now  rosy  May  comes  in  wi"  flowers 
To  deck  her  gay  green  spreading  bowers, 
And  now  comes  in  my  happy  hours, 
To  wander  wi'  my  Davie. 


Chorus. 
tf  Meet  me  on  the  warlock  Knowe; 

Dainrjje  Davie,  Daintie  Davie. 
There  I'll  spend  the  day  with  you. 

My  ain  dear  Daintie  Davie." 

About  two  years  ago,  I  wrote  to  a  cor- 
respondent in  Scotland,  to  send  to  Dun. 
das  about  ten  reams  of  our  best  Scottish, 
English,  and  Irish  ballads,  and  to  avoid 
any  that  were  exceptionable  in  point  of 
morality.  This  person  has  since  arrived 
in  America ;  but  his  ideas  on  the  pro- 
priety of  introducing  ballads  into  a  new 
country,  I  found  to  be  different  from 
mine — otherwise  I  had  by  this  time  em- 
ployed several  "  wights  of  Homer's  craft" 
to  disperse  the  twenty  thousand  half- 
penny songs  I  then  ordered.  It  would 
have,  perhaps,  sown  the  seeds  of  music 
in  our  land,  and  hundreds  of  American 
presses,  may  be,  would  have  spread 
abundantly  the  pleasing  stanzas,  until  ac- 
cursed slavery  had  stopt  the  strain  in  the 
southern  regions  of  republican  tyranny. 

I  can  call  to  mind  the  time,  as  well  as 
if  it  were  yesterday,  when  I  first  heard 
"  The  Maid  of  Lodi :"  it  was  at  a  Scot- 
tish wedding,  at  Arthurstone.  Sir  Ewan, 
the  aged  sire  of  the  brave  colonel 
Cameron,  who  fell  at  Waterloo,  was  pre- 
sent with  his  lady ;  and,  gentle  reader,  I 
think  it  was  the  youthful  minister  of  the 
next  parish  who  sung,  accompanied  by 
the  bride's  youngest  sister.  It  was  fol- 
lowed by  "Blythe,  blythe,"  which  I  must 
give  the  reader  from  memory.  News  is 
scarce  this  week — the  king  of  France  is 
dead,  and  surely  the  tidings  of  the  next's 
coronation  will  not  arrive  in  time  to  fill 
a  paragraph  in  the  "  Advocate"  for  a 
month  to  come — so  let  us  have — 

Blythe,  blythe  and  merry  was  she  : 
Blythe  was  she  but  and  ben ; 

Blythe  by  the  banks  of  Ern — 
Blythe  in  Glenturret  glen. 

By  Aughtertye  grows  the  aik, 

By  Yarrow  banks  the  birken  shaw ; 

But  Phemie  was  the  bonniest  lass 
The  flowers  of  Yarrow  ever  saw. 
Blythe,  blythe,  &c. 

Her  looks  were  like  a  flower  in  May, 
Her  smile  was  like  a  simmer  morn  ; 

She  tripped  by  the  banks  of  Ern, 
As  light's  a  bird  upon  a  thorn. 
Blythe,  blythe,  &c. 

Her  bonnie  face  it  was  sae  maek 

As  ony  lamb  upon  a  lee  : 
The  evening  sun  was  ne'er  so  sweet 

As  was  the  blink  o'  Phemie's  «'e 
Blythe,  blythe,  &e 


717 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  31. 


The  highland  hills  I've  wander'd  wide, 
And  o'er  the  lowlands  I  hae  been ; 

But  Phemie  was  the  bonniest  lass 
That  ever  trode  the  dewy  green 
Blythe,  blythe,  &c. 

A  young  farmer  then  gave  us  "The 
Lothian  Lassie;"  and  as  my  recollec- 
tion is  pretty  good,  I  shall  put  Canadian 
Scots  girls  in  the  way  to  mind  it  as  well 
as  me,  by  repeating  the  first  stanza : 
would  I  could  sing  it  as  I  have  heard  it 
sung  :— 

Last  May  a  braw  wooer  cam'd  down    the 

lang  glen, 

And  sair  wi'  his  love  he  did  deave  me  ; 
I  said  there  was  naething  I  hated  like  men, 
The  deuce    gae  wi'    'm  to  believe  me, 

believe  me, 
The  deuce  gae  wi'  'm  to  believe  me." 

What  a  chaste  pleasure — what  a  glad- 
dening influence  over  the  most  stoical 
mind,  any  of  the  following  songs  yield, 
when  well  sung  to  their  own  tunes,  by  a 
half  dozen  young  ladies  in  the  parlour, 
or  by  a  chorus  of  bonnie  lassies  in  the 
kitchen,  as  the  former  pursue  their  sew- 
ing and  knitting,  and  the  latter  birr  their 
wheels,  and  stir  the  sowens  in  an  even- 
ing, in  the  opulent  farmer's  dwelling;  or 
when  heard  in  the  most  humble  cottage 
of  a  Scottish  peasant.  Well  might  the 
farmer's  dog,  Luath,  say,  "  And  I  for  e'en 
down  joy  hae  barkit  wi'  them/' 

Let  these  classes  come  to  Upper  Ca- 
nada to-morrow,  and  they  will  tire  of  its 
dulness.  Nature's  face  is  fair  enough ; 
but  after  the  traveller  leaves  the  last 
faint  sounds  of  the  Canadian  boatsman's 
song,  as  it  dies  on  the  still  waters  of  the 
St.  Lawrence,  music  will  be  done  with. — 
I  had  forgotten  however,  I  must  now 
quote  the  songs  alluded  to ;  arid  I  well 
caa  from  memory  :— 

1.  Gloomy  winter's  now  awa'. 

2.  Roy's  wife  of  Aldivalloch. 

3.  Beneath    the    pretty    hawthorn    that 
blooms  in  the  vale. 

4.  And  she  showed  him  the  way  for  to 
woo. 

5.  I  gaed  a  waefu*  gate  yestreen. 

6.  John  Anderson,  my  Joe,  John,  when 
we  were  first  acquent. 

7.  Thy  cheek  is  o'  the  rose's  hue, 
My  only  joe  and  dearie,  O. 

8.  Coming  o'er  the  craigs  o'  Kyle. 

9.  O,  lassie,  art  thou  sleeping  yet ; — and 
the  answer. 

10.  There's  nae  luck  about  the  house, 
There's  nae  luck  ava' ; 


There's  little  pleasure  in  the  house, 
When  our  gudemau  's  awa'. 

11.  The  sun   had   gone   down   o'er    the 
lofty  Ben  Lomond. 

12.  My  uncle  's  dead — I've  lands  enew. 

13.  For  lack  of  gold  she's  left  me,  O 

14.  O'  a  the  airths  the  wind  can  blaw. 

15.  When    honey-dyed     bells    o'er    the 
heather  was  spreading. 

16.  Loudon's  bonny  woods  and  braes. 

17.  The  Highland  Laddie. 

18.  Upon  a  simmer's  afternoon. 
Awee  afore  the  sun  gaed  down. 

19.  There's  cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen,  the 
new  way. 

20.  Mirk  and  rainy  was  the  night. 

21.  My  Pattie  is  a  lover  gay. 

22.  I'm  wearin'  awa',  Jean, 

Like  sna'  when  its  thaw,  Jean. 

23.  Its   Logie  o'   Buchaii,  o'   Logic  the 
laird. 

24.  With  the  garb  of  old  Gaul,  and  the 
fire  of  old  Rome. 

25.  Come  under  my  plaide. 

26.  O'  Bessie  Bell  and  Mary  Gray. 

27.  Ye  banks  and  braes  of  bonny  Doon. 

28.  The  laird  of  the  drum,  a  wooing  has 
gone,— 

And  awa*  in  the  morning  early: 
And  he  has  spied  a  weel  fa' red  May, 
A  shearing  her  father's  barley. 

29.  My  bonny  Lizzie  Baillie. 

30.  Green  grow  the  rushes,  O  ! 

I  must  have  done — I  have  named 
so  many  songs  to  put  my  readers  in 
mind  of 

"  Auld  laug  syne  ;" 

and  I  could  add  as  many  more,  of 
truly  Scottish  origin,  that  I  should  like 
to  see  in  Canada,  as  would  fill  up 
the  "Advocate;"  but  I  must  stop — the 
politicians  would  complain.  I  have 
heard  a  few  of  these  well  sung  in  Ca- 
nada— the  last,  a  lintie  in  Queenston 
braes  sings  now  and  then.  Would  there 
were  ten  thousand  such  in  Upper 
Canada ! 

The  English  version  of  the  following 
line,  is  not  near  so  pretty  as  the  Scots 
original,  which  goes  thus  : — 

'  I    once  was  a  bachelor,  both  early  and 

young, 
And  I  courted  a  fair  maid  with  a  flattering 

tongue  : 
I  courted  her,  I  wooed  her,   1  honoured 

her  then, 
And   I  promised  to  marry  her,  but  never 

told  her  when. 

O,  I  never  told  her  when,"  &c. 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— MAY  31. 


120 


With  tliis  may  be  contrasted  a  verse 
of  sir  Walter  Scott's  Mary,  in  "  The 
Pirate :" — 

"  O  were  there  an  island, 

Though  ever  so  wild, 
Where  woman  could  smile,  and 

No  man  be  beguiled — 
Too  tempting  a  snare 

To  poor  mortals  were  given, 
And  the  hope  would  fix  there, 

That  should  anchor  on  heaven." 

This  is  beguiling  on  both  sides ;  but 
the  latter  stanzas  finely  express  an  idea 
fit  for  an  oriental  paradise. 

There  is  another  kind  of  ballads  which, 
though  akin  to  those  I  have  named,  are 
in  many  points  essentially  different : — 
ind  the  first  of  this  class, 

"  Duncan  Gray  came  here  to  woo," 

when  sung  in  chorus,  would  be  almost 
enough  to  cause  the  venerable  age  of 
fighty-eight  to  shake  a  foot  all  over  Scot- 
and.  A  merry  party,  of  which  I  was 
>ne,  once  tried  "  Duncan,"  on  the  Table 
Rock  at  Niagara  Falls ;  and  when  we 
came  to  that  line,  where  the  poor  neg- 
lected lover 

"  Spak  o*  loupin  ower  a  linn,' 

I  thought  we  should  have  all  died  with 
laughing,  the  scene  was  so  in  unison 
with  the  stanza.  Moore's  two  lovers, 
who — 


"  'thout  pistol  or  dagger,  a 
Made  a  desperate  dash  down  the   Falls  of 
Niagara," 

is  good  ;  but  it  is  nothing  to  "  Duncan 
Gray,"  sung  by  half  a  dozen  tenor  voices 
on  the  Table  Rock. 

I  mean,  when  1  have  leisure,  to  con- 
tinue these  reminiscences  of  Scottish 
song,  and  as  I  at  this  time  must  have 
taxed  the  patience,  and  tried  the  polite- 
ness of  my  numerous  Irish  and  English 
readers,  I  will,  in  some  future  number, 
leave  Ramsay,  Burns,  Tannahill,  and 
Ferguson — for  Chaucer  and  Shakspeare, 
Goldsmith  and  Moore. 

Tannahill  has  some  pieces,  scarce  ex- 
celled by  any  of  our  Scottish  poets— he 
has  also  a  virtue  which  endears  him  to 
me  beyond  even  Robert  Burns.  He  does 
not  often  laud  in  song  the  drinking  of 
ardent  liquors.  If,  as  a  printer,  I  were 
to  publish  an  American  edition  of  Burns, 
I  think  I  would  leave  his  songs  in  praise 
of  Highland  whisky  out.  They  have 
done  much  harm  in  his  native  land ;  and 
to  spread  them  here,  would  be  like  firing 
a  match. 


END  OF  MAY      :.:  ' 

This  month  may  close  with  a  delightful 
sonnet,  from  one  of  the  best  books  put 
forth  in  recent  years  for  daily  use  and 
amusement. 


SUMMER. 

Now  have  young  April  and  the  blue  eyed  May 

Vanished  awhile.,  and  lo !  the  glorious  June 

(While  nature  ripens  in  his  burning  noon,) 
Gomes  like  a  young  inheritor;  and  gay, 
Altho'  his  parent  months  have  passed  away ; 

But  his  green  crown  shall  wither,  and  the  tune 

That  ushered  in  his  birth  be  silent  soon, 
And  in  the  Strength  of  youth  shall  he  decay. 
What  matters  this — so  long  as  in  the  past 

And  in  the  days  to  come  we  live,  and  feel 

The  present  nothing  worth,  until  it  steal 
Away  and,  like  a  disappointment,  die? 
For  Joy,  dim  child  of  Hope  and  Memory, 
Flies  ever  on  before  or  follows  fast.  Literary  Pocket  Book 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  57  .  9 


721 


TrlE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE. 


722 


JUNE. 

The  shepherds,  now,  from  every  walk  and  steep, 
Where  grateful  feed  attracts  the  dainty  sheep, 
Collect  their  flocks,  and  plunge  them  in  the  streams 
And  cleanse  their  fleeces  in  the  noontide  beams. 
This  care  perform'd,  arrives  another  care 
To  catch  them,  one  by  one,  their  wool  to  shear : 
Then  come  the  tying,  clipping,  tarring,  bleating ; 
The  shearers'  final  shout,  and  dance,  and  eating. 
From  hence  the  old  engravers  sometimes  made 
This  lovely  month  a  shearer,  at  his  trade  : 
And  hence,  the  symbol  to  the  season  true. 
A  living  hand  so  traces  June  to  you 


723 


THE  EVEflY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE. 


724 


The  "  Mirror  of  the  Months,"  the 
pleasantest  of  "  the  year-books,"  except 
"  The  Months"  of  Mr.  Leigh  Hunt,  tells 
us  that  with  June, — "  Summer  is  come — 
come,  but  not  to  stay ;  at  least,  not  at  the 
commencement  of  this  month :  and  how 
should  it,  unless  we  expect  that  the  sea- 
sons will  be  kind  enough  to  conform  to 
the  devices  of  man,  and  suffer  themselves 
to  be  called  by  what  name  and  at  what 

Eeriod  he  pleases?  He  must  die  and 
jave  them  a  legacy  (instead  of  they  him) 
before  there  will  be  any  show  of  justice 
in  this.  Till  then  the  beginning  of  June 
•will  continue  to  be  the  latter  end  of  May, 
by  rights ;  as  it  was  according  to  the  old 
style.  And,  among  a  thousand  changes, 
in  what  one  has  the  old  style  been  im- 
proved upon  by  the  new  ?  Assuredly 
not  in  that  of  substituting  the  utile  for  the 
dulce,  in  any  eyes  but  those  of  almanac- 
makers.  Let  all  lovers  of  spring,  there- 
fore, be  fully  persuaded  that,  for  the  first 
fortnight  in  June,  they  are  living  in  May. 
We  are  to  bear  in  mind  that  all  shall  thus 
be  gaining  instead  of  losing,  by  the  im- 
pertinence of  any  breath,  but  that  of 
heaven,  attempting  to  force  spring  into 
summer,  even  in  name  alone." 

It  seems  fitting  thus  to  introduce  the 
following  passages,  and  invite  the  reader 
to  proceed  with  the  author,  and  take  a 
cird's  eye  view  of  the  season. 


Spring  may  now  be  considered  as  em- 
ployed in  completing  her  toilet,  and,  for 
the  first  weeks  of  this  month,  putting  on 
those  last  finishing  touches  which  an  ac- 
complished beauty  never  trusts  to  any 
hand  but  her  own.  In  the  woods  and 
groves  also,  she  is  still  clothing  some  of 
her  noblest  and  proudest  attendants  with 
their  new  annual  attire.  The  oak  until 
now  has  been  nearly  bare ;  and,  of  what- 
ever age,  has  been  looking  old  all  the 
winter  and  spring,  on  account  of  its 
crumpled  branches  and  wrinkled  rind. 
Now,  of  whatever  age,  it  looks  young, 
in  virtue  of  its  new  green,  lighter  than 
all  the  rest  of  the  grove.  Now,  also,  the 
stately  walnut  (standing  singly  or  in  pairs 
in  the  fore-court  of  ancient  manor-houses, 
or  in  the  home  corner  of  the  pretty  park- 
like  paddock  at  the  back  of  some  modern 
Italian  villa,  whose  white  dome  it  saw 
rise  beneath  it  the  other  day,  and  mis- 
takes for  a  mushroom,)  puts  forth  its 
smooth  leaves  slowly,  as  "  sage  grave 
men "  do  their  thoughts ;  and  which 
over-caution  reconciles  one  to  the  beating 


it  receives  in  the  autumn,  as  the  best 
means  of  at  once  compassing  its  present 
fruit,  and  making  it  bear  more  ;  as  its 
said  prototypes  in  animated  nature  are 
obliged  to  have  their  brains  cudgelled, 
before  any  good  can  be  got  from  them. 


These  appearances  appertain  exclusively 
to  the  spring.  Let  us  now  (however  reluc- 
tantly) take  a  final  leave  of  that  lovely  and 
love-making  season,  and  at  once  step  for- 
ward into  the  glowing  presence  of  sum- 
mer —  contenting  ourselves,  however,  to 
touch  the  hem  of  her  rich  garments,  and 
not  attempting  to  look  into  her  heart,  till 
she  lays  that  open  to  us  herself  next  month: 
for  whatever  schoolboys  calendar-makers 
may  say  to  the  contrary,  Midsummer 
never  happens  in  England  till  July. 

To  saunter,  at  mid  June,  beneath  the 
shade  of  some  old  forest,  situated  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  a  great  town,  so  that 
paths  are  worn  through  it,  and  you  can 
make  your  way  with  ease  in  any  direc- 
tion, gives  one  the  idea  of  being  trans- 
ferred, by  some  strange  magic,  from  the 
surface  of  the  earth  to  the  bottom  of  the 
sea!  (I  say  it  gives  one  this  idea;  for  I 
cannot  answer  for  more,  in  matters  of  so 
arbitrary  a  nature  as  the  association  of 
ideas.)  Over  head,  and  round  about,  you 
hear  the  sighing,  the  whispering,  or  the 
roaring  (as  the  wind  pleases)  of  a  thou- 
sand billows ;  and  looking  upwards,  you 
see  the  light  of  heaven  transmitted  faintly, 
as  if  through  a  mass  of  green  waters. 
Hither  and  thither,  as  you  move  along, 
strange  forms  flit  swiftly  about  you,  which 
may,  for  any  thing  you  can  see  or  hear  to 
the  contrary,  be  exclusive  natives  of  the 
new  world  in  which  your  fancy  chooses 
to  find  itself :  they  may  be  fishes,  if  that 
pleases;  for  they  are 'as  mute  as  such, 
and  glide  through  the  liquid  element  as 
swiftly.  Now  and  then,  indeed,  one  of 
larger  growth,  and  less  lubricated  move-  . 
ments,  lumbers  up  from  beside  your  path, 
and  cluttering  noisily  away  to  a  little  dis- 
tance, may  chance  to  scare  for  a  moment 
your  submarine  reverie.  Your  palate 
too  may  perhaps  here  step  in,  and  try  to 
persuade  you  that  the  cause  of  interrup- 
tion was  not  a  fish  but  a  pheasant.  But 
in  fact,  if  your  fancy  is  one  of  those  which 
are  disposed  to  "  listen  to  reason,"  it  will 
not  be  able  to  lead  you  into  spots  of  the 
above  kind  without  your  gun  in  your 
hand, — one  report  of  which  will  put  all 
fancies  to  flight  in  a  moment,  as  well  as 
every  thing  else  that  has  wings.  To  re- 


725 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE. 


726 


turn,  therefore,  to  our  walk, — what  do  all 
these  strange  objects  look  like,  that  stand 
silently  about  us  in  the  dim  twilight, 
some  spiring  straight  up,  and  tapering  as 
they  ascend,  till  they  lose  themselves  in 
the  green  waters  above — some  shattered 
and  splintered,  leaning  against  each  other 
for  support,  or  lying  heavily  on  the  floor 
on  which  we  walk — some  half  buried  in 
that  floor,  as  if  they  had  lain  dead  there 
for  ages,  and  become  incorporate  with  it? 
what  do  all  these  seem,  but  wrecks  and 
fragments  of  some  mighty  vessel,  that 
has  sunk  down  here  from  above,  and  lain 
weltering  and  wasting  away,  till  these 
are  all  that  is  left  of  it !  Even  the  floor 
itself  on  which  we  stand,  and  the  vegeta- 
tion it  puts  forth,  are  unlike  those  of  any 
other  portion  of  the  earth's  surface,  and 
may  well  recall,  by  their  strange  appear- 
ance in  the  half  light,  the  fancies  that 
have  come  upon  us  when  we  have  read 
or  dreamt  of  those  gifted  beings,  who, 
like  Ladurlad  in  Kehama,  could  walk  on 
the  floor  of  the  sea,  without  waiting,  as 
the  visiters  at  watering-places  are  obliged 
to  do,  for  the  tide  to  go  out. 

Stepping  forth  into  the  open  fields, 
what  a  bright  pageant  of  summer  beauty 
is  spread  out  before  us! — Everywhere 
about  our  feet  flocks  of  wild-flowers 

"  Do  paint  the  meadow  with  delight." 

We  must  not  stay  to  pluck  and  particu- 
larize them ;  for  most  of  them  have  al- 
ready had  their  greeting — let  us  pass 
along  beside  this  flourishing  hedge-row. 
The  first  novelty  of  the  season  that  greets 
us  here  is  perhaps  the  sweetest,  the  fresh- 
est, and  fairest  of  all,  and  the  only  one 
that  could  supply  an  adequate  substitute 
for  the  hawthorn  bloom  which  it  has  su- 
perseded. Need  the  eglantine  be  named? 
the  "sweet-leaved  eglantine  ;"  the  "  rain- 
scented  eglantine  ;"  eglantine — to  which 
the  sun  himself  pays  homage,  by  "  count- 
ing his  dewy  rosary"  on  it  every  morning; 
eglantine  —  which  Chaucer,  and  even 

Shakspeare but  hold — whatsoever  the 

poets  themselves  may  insinuate  to  the 
contrary,  to  read  poetry  in  the  presence 
of  nature  is  a  kind  of  impiety  :  it  is  like 
reading  the  commentators  on  Shakspeare, 
and  skipping  the  text ;  for  you  cannot  at- 
tend to  both  :  to  say  nothing  of  nature's 
book  being  a  vade  mecum  that  can  make 
"  every  man  his  own  poet*'  for  the  time 
being ;  and  there  is,  after  all,  no  poetry 
like  that  which  we  create  for  ourselves. 


Begging  pardon  of  the  eglantine  for 
having  permitted  any  thing — even  her 
own  likeness  in  the  poet's  looking-glass — 
to  turn  our  attention  from  her  real  self, — 
look  with  what  infinite  grace  she  scatters 
her  sweet  coronals  here  and  there  among 
her  bending  branches ;  or  hangs  them, 
half-concealed,  among  the  heavy  blos- 
soms of  the  woodbine  that  lifts  itself  so 
boldly  above  her,  after  having  first  clung 
to  her  for  support ;  or  permits  them  to 
peep  out  here  and  there  close  to  the 
ground,  and  almost  hidden  by  the  rank 
weeds  below ;  or  holds  out  a  whole  arch- 
way of  them,  swaying  backward  and  for- 
ward in  the  breeze,  as  if  praying  of  the 
passer's  hand  to  pluck  them.  Let  who 
will  praise  the  hawthorn — now  it  is  no 
more !  The  wild  rose  is  the  queen  of 
forest  flowers,  if  it  be  only  because  she  is 
as  unlike  a  queen  as  the  absence  of  every 
thing  courtly  can  make  her. 

The  woodbine  deserves  to  be  held  next 
in  favour  during  this  month ;  though 
more  on  account  of  its  intellectual  than 
its  personal  beauty.  All  the  air  is  faint 
with  its  rich  sweetness  ;  and  the  delicate 
breath  of  its  lovely  rival  is  lost  in  the 
luscious  odours  which  it  exhales. 

These  are  the  only  scented  wild  flowers 
that  we  shall  now  meet  with  in  any  pro- 
fusion ;  for  though  the  violet  may  still  be 
found  by  looking  for,  its  breath  has  lost 
much  of  its  spring  power.  But,  if  we  are 
content  with  mere  beauty,  this  month  is 
perhaps  more  profuse  of  it  than  any  othei; 
even  in  that  department  of  nature  which 
we  are  now  examining — namely,  thf 
fields  and  woods. 

The  woods  and  groves,  and  the  single 
forest  trees  that  rise  here  and  there  from 
out  the  bounding  hedge-rows,  are  now  in 
full  foliage ;  all,  however,  presenting  a 
somewhat  sombre,  because  monotonous, 
hue,  wanting  all  the  tender  newness  01 
the  spring,  and  all  the  rich  variety  of  the 
autumn.  And  this  is  the  more  observa- 
ble, because  the  numerous  plots  of  culti 
vated  land,  divided  from  each  other  by 
the  hedge-rows,  and  looking,  at  this  dis- 
tance, like  beds  in  a  garden  divided  by 
box,  are  nearly  all  still  invested  with  the 
same  green  mantle ;  for  the  wheat,  the 
oats,  the  barley,  and  even  the  early  rye, 
though  now  in  full  flower,  have  not  yet 
become  tinged  with  their  harvest  hues. 
They  are  all  alike  green ;  and  the  only 
change  that  can  be  seen  in  their  appear- 
ance is  that  caused  by  the  different  lights 
into  which  each  is  thrown,  as  the  wind 


727 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUXE  1. 


728 


passes  over  them.  The  patches  of  purple 
or  of  white  clover  that  intervene  here  and 
there,  and  are  now  in  flower,  offer  striking 
exceptions  to  the  above,  and  at  the  same 
time  load  the  air  with  their  sweetness. 
Nothing  ran  be  more  rich  and  beautiful  in 
its  effect  on  a  distant  prospect  at  this  sea- 
son, than  a  great  patch  of  purple  clover 
lying  apparently  motionless  on  a  sunny 
upland,  encompassed  by  a  whole  sea  of 
green  corn,  waving  and  shifting  about  it 
at  every  breath  that  blows. 

The  hitherto  full  concert  of  the  singing 
birds  is  now  beginning  to  falter,  and  fall 
short.  We  shall  do  well  to  make  the  most 
of  it  now ;  for  in  two  or  three  weeks  it 
will  almost  entirely  cease  till  the  autumn. 
I  mean  that  it  will  cease  as  a  full  concert; 
for  we  shall  have  single  songsters  all 
through  the  summer  at  intervals ;  and 
those  some  of  the  sweetest  and  best.  The 
best  of  all,  indeed,  the  nightingale,  we 
have  now  lost.  So  that  the  youths  and 
Tiaidens  who  now  go  in  pairs  to  the 
<vood-side,  on  warm  nights,  to  listen  for 
its  song,  (hoping  they  may  not  hear  it,) 
are  well  content  to  hear  each  other's  voice 
instead. 

We  have  still,  however,  some  of  the 
finest  of  the  second  class  of  songsters  left; 
for  the  nightingale,  like  Catalani,  Is  a 
class  by  itself.  The  mere  chorus-singers 


of  the  grove  are  also  beginning  to  be 
silent ;  so  that  the  jubilate  that  has  been 
chanting;  for  the  last  month  is  now  over. 
But  the  Stephenses,  the  Trees,  the  Patons, 
and  the  Poveys,  are  still  with  us,  under 
the  forms  of  the  woodlark,  the  skylark, 
the  blackcap,  and  the  goldfinch.  And 
the  first-named  of  these,  now  that  it  no 
longer  fears  the  rivalry  of  the  unrivalled, 
not  seldom,  on  warm  nights,  sings  at  in- 
tervals all  night  long,  poised  at  one  spot 
high  up  in  the  soft  moonlit  air. 

We  have  still  another  pleasant  little 
singer,  the  field  cricket,  whose  clear  shrill 
voice  the  warm  weather  has  now  matured 
to  its  full  strength,  and  who  must  not  be 
forgotten,  though  he  has  but  one  song  to 
offer  us  all  his  life  long,  and  that  one  con- 
sisting but  of  one  note ;  for  it  is  a  note  of 
joy,  and  will  not  be  heard  without  engen- 
dering its  like.  You  may  hear  him  in 
wayside  banks,  where  the  sun  falls  hot, 
shrilling  out  his  loud  cry  into  the  still  air 
all  day  long,  as  he  sits  at  the  mouth  of  his 
cell ;  and  if  you  chance  to  be  passing  by 
the  same  spot  at  midnight,  you  may  hear 
it  then  too.* 


Yet  by  him  who  holds  this  "  Mirror," 
we.  must  not  be  "  charmed  "  from  our  re- 
pose, but  take  the  advice  of  a  poet,  the 
contemporary  and  friend  of  Cowper. 


Let  us  not  borrow  from  the  hours  of  rest, 

For  we  must  steal  from  morning  to  repay. 

And  who  would  lose  the  animated  smile 

Of  dawning  day,  for  the  austei'e  frown  of  night  ? 

I  grant  her  well  accoutred  in  her  suit 

Of  dripping  sable,  powder'd  thick  with  stars, 

And  much  applaud  her  as  she  passes  by 

With  a  replenished  horn  on  either  brow  1 

But  more  I  love  to  see  awaking  day 

Rise  with  a  fluster'd  cheek  ;  a  careful  maid, 

Who  fears  she  has  outslept  the  custom'd  hour, 

And  leaves  her  chamber  blushing.     Hence  to  rest ; 

I  will  not  prattle  longer  to  detain  you 

Under  the  dewy  canopy  of  night. 


Hurdis. 


3tme 

Ovid  assigns  the  first  of  June  to 


Car- 


commenting  on  his  taste,  cannot  divine 
the  connection  between  such  a  power  and 


na,''  the  goddess  of  the  hinge  ;  who  also     the    patronage   of    hinges.     "False 

r»  r*»  « i  rl  o  rl    f\v&v  tlio  vital    r\arfc  rif  nr\an     oev\o_        +ts\*-t<*  M     I*.*  it  •  *  i  /» 


presided  over  the  vital  parts  of  man,  espe- 
cially the  liver  and  the  heart.     Massey, 


tions,"  he  says,  "  in  every  mode  of  reli- 
gion, lead  men  naturally  into  confusion." 


Mirror  of  the  Months. 


?29 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  2. 


Carna,  the  goddess  of  the  hinge,  demands 

The  first  of  June  ;  upon  her  power  depends 

To  open  what  is  shut,  what's  shut  unbar ; 

And  whence  this  power  she  has,  my  muse  declare 

For  length  of  time  has  made  the  thing  obscure, 

Fame  only  tells  us  that  she  has  that  power. 

Helernus'  grove  near  to  the  Tiber  lies, 

Where  still  the  priests  repair  to  sacrifice ; 

From  hence  a  nymph,  whose  name  was  Grane,  sprung, 

Whom  many,  unsuccessful,  courted  long; 

To  range  the  spacious  fields,  and  kill  the  deer, 

With  darts  and  mangling  spears,  was  all  her  care; 

She  had  no  quiver,  yet  so  bright  she  seemed, 

She  was  by  many  Phoebus'  sister  deemed.  Ovid. 

The  poet  then  relates  that  Janns  made  this  Grane  (or  Carna)  goddess  of  the  hinge 

And  then  a  white  thorn  stick  he  to  her  gave, 
By  which  she  ever  after  power  should  have, 
To  drive  by  night  allom'nous  birds  away, 
That  scream,  and  o'er  our  houses  hov'ring  stray. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  57  •  05. 


2. 

A  ROGUE  IN  GRAIN,  June  2,  1759. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Newark,  Notts,  May  17,  1826. 
Sir, — It  appears  to  me  that  there  have 
been  in  "  old  times,"  which  we  suppose 
"  good  times,"  rogues  in  grain.  To  p-ove 
it,  I  herewith  transmit  the  copy  of  an 
advertisement,  from  the  "  Cambridge 
Journal "  of  1 759.  Wishing  you  an  in- 
creasing sale  to  your  interesting  Every- 
Day  Book,  I  remain,  &c. 

BENJAMIN  JOHNSON. 

ADVERTISEMENT. 

T^HEREAS  I  WILLIAM  MARGARETS 
*  the  younger,  was,  at  the  last  Assizes 
for  the  County  of  Cambridge,  convicted 
upon  an  indictment,  for  an  attempt  to  raise 
the  price  of  Corn  in  Ely-market,  upon  the 
24th  day  of  September,  1 757,  by  offering 
the  sum  of  Six  Shillings  a  Bushel  for 
Wheat,  for  which  no  more  than  Five 
Shillings  and  Ninepence  was  demanded; 
And  whereas,  on  the  earnest  solicitation 
and  request  of  myself  and  friends,  the 
prosecutor  has  been  prevailed  upon  to 
Forbear  any  further  prosecution  against 
me,  on  my  submitting  to  make  the  follow- 
ing satisfaction,  viz  upon  my  paying  the 
sum  of  £50  to  the  poor  inhabitants  of  the 
town  of  Ely  ;  and  the  further  sum  of  £50 
to  the  poor  inhabitants  of  the  town  of 


Cambridge,  to  be  distributed  by  the 
Minister  and  Church-wardens  of  the 
several  parishes  in  the  said  town ;  and 
the  full  costs  of  the  prosecution  ;  and 
upon  my  reading  this  acknowledgment 
of  my  offence  publicly,  and  with  a  loud 
voice,  in  the  presence  of  a  Magistrate, 
Constable,  or  other  peace  officer  of  the 
said  town  of  Ely,  at  the  Market-place 
there,  between  the  hours  of  twelve  and 
one  o'clock,  on  a  public  market-day,  arid 
likewise  subscribing  and  publishing  the 
same  in  three  of  the  Evening  Papeis, 
printed  at  London,  and  in  the  Cambridge 
Journal,  on  four  different  days ;  and  I 
have  accordingly  paid  the  two  sums  of 
£50,  and  Costs;  and  do  hereby  confess 
myself  to  have  been  guilty  of  the  said 
offence,  and  testify  my  sincere  and  heart v 
sorrow  in  having  committed  a  crime, 
which,  in  its  consequences,  tended  so 
much  to  increase  the  distress  of  the  poor, 
in  the  late  calamitous  scarcity :  And  I  do 
hereby  most  humbly  acknowledge  the 
lenity  of  the  prosecutor,  and  beg  r  ardcn 
of  the  public  in  general,  and  of  the  town 
of  Ely  in  particular.  This  paper  was 
read  by  me  at  the  public  Market-place  at 
Ely,  in  the  presence  of  Thomas  Aungier 
Gentleman,  chief  constable,  on  the  2d  Day 
of  June,  1759,  being  a  public  Market- 
day  there;  and  is  nov\,  as  a  further  proof 
of  the  just  sense  I  have  of  the  heinous- 
ness  of  my  crime,  subscribed  and  pub- 
lished by  me 

WILLIAM  MARGARET* 
Witness,  JAMES  DAY, 
Under  Sheriff  of  Cambridgeshire. 


731 


THE  EVERYDAY  ROOK.— JUNE  3. 


732 


LONGEVITY. 

On  the  2d  of  June,  1734,  John  Rousey, 
of  the  isle  of  Distrey,  in  Scotland,  died 
at  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  years  of 
age.  The  son  who  inherited  his  estate, 
was  born  to  him  while  in  his  hundredth 
year.*  A  similar  instance  of  fatherhood, 
at  this  advanced  period  of  life,  is  recorded 
of  the  "  old,  old,  very  old  man,  Thomas 
Parr." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  57 . 85. 


Suite  3. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  this  day,  in  the  year  1789,  died 
Paul  Egede,  a  Danish  missionary,  who, 
with  his  father  Hans,  visited  Greenland, 
for  the  conversion  of  the  natives  to 
Christianity,  in  1721.  Hans  was  the 


author  of  a  celebrated  work,  published  in 
1729,  on  the  topography  and  natural  his- 
tory of  that  country.  Paul  conducted  a 
new  edition  of  his  father's  book,  and  pub- 
lished a  journal  of  his  own  residence  in 
Greenland,  from  1721  to  1788.  He  died 
at  the  age  of  eighty-one.* 

CURIOUS  INSCRIPTION, 
Discovered  by   a    Traveller. 

Captain  Bart,  grandson  of  the  renown- 
ed Jean  Bart,  during  his  stay  at  Malta, 
where  he  had  put  in  from  a  cruise  in  the 
Mediterranean,  met  with  a  Carmelite, 
who  had  been  into  Persia  as  a  missionary. 
This  person  told  him  he  had  availed  him- 
self of  an  opportunity  which  offered  to 
gratify  his  curiosity,  by  visiting  the  ruins 
of  the  ancient  and  celebrated  Persepolis. 
Chance  discovered  to  him  a  marble,  on 
which  were  inscribed  some  Arabic  cha- 
racters. As  he  was  acquainted  with  this 
language,  he  translated  the  inscription  into 
Latin.  The  following  is  the  translation  : 


dicas 

scis 

dicit 

scit 

audit 

expedit 

facias 

potes 

facit 

potest 

facit 

credit 

credas 

audis 

credit 

audit 

credit 

fieri 
potest 

expendas 

habes 

expendit 

habet 

petit 

habet 

judices 

vides 

judicat 

videt 

judicat            est 

non 

quod 
cumque    j    nam(lul 

quod 
cumque 

saepe 

quod 
non 

The  key  is  to  be  obtained  thus ;  the  first 
word  of  the  last  line  must  be  taken  and 
joined  to  the  first  word  of  the  first  line ; 
then  the  second  word  of  the  last  line  to 
the  second  word  of  the  first  line,  and  so  on 
to  the  end.  Afterwards,  we  must  begin 
agaiu  by  taking  the  first  word  of  the  next 
line,  and  the  following  moral  precepts 
will  be  the  result : 

1.  Non  dicas  quodcumque  scis,  nam 
qui  dicit  quodcumque  scit  ssepe  audit 
quod  non  expedit. 

Do  not  tell  whatever  thou  knowest,  for 
he  who  tells  whatever  he  knows,  often 
hears  more  than  is  agreeable. 


2.  Non  facias  quodcumque  potes,  nam 
qui  facit,  quodcumque  potest  ssepe  facit 
quod  non  credit. 

Do  not  do  whatever  thou  canst,  for  he 
who  does  whatever  he  can,  often  does 
more  than  he  imagines. 

3.  Non  credas  quodcumque  audis,  nam 
qui  credit  quodcumque  audit  saepe  quod 
non  fieri  potest. 

Do  not  believe  whatever  thou  nearest, 
for  he  who  believes  whatever  he  hears, 
will  often  believe  what  is  impossible. 

4.  Non  expendas  quodcumque  habes, 
nam    qui   expendit    quodcumque    habet 
saepe  petit  quod  non  habet. 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


*  General  Biographical  Dictionary. 


733 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  3. 


Do  not  spend  whatever  thou  hast,  for 
he  who  spends  whatever  he  has,  will  often 
be  compelled  to  ask  for  what  he  has 
not. 

5.  Non  jndices  quodcumque  vides,  nam 
qui  judicat  quodcumque  videt  ssepe  judi- 
cat  quod  non  est. 

Do  not  judge  on  whatever  thou  seest, 
for  he  who  judges  on  whatever  he  sees, 
will  often  form  an  erroneous  judgment.* 


June  3,  1611.  "The  Lady   Arabella" 
escaped  from  her  confinement. 


r, 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Kennington,  May  23,  1826. 
Sir, — Annexed  is  an  original  unprinted 
letter,  from  the  lady  Arabella  Seymour, 
whose  misfortunes  were  of  a  peculiar 
kind,  and  from  peculiar  causes  ;  those 
causes  are  to  be  traced  to  that  tyrannic 
dread  that  weak  sovereigns  always  have 
of  any  persons  approaching  their  equals, 
either  in  mind,  or  by  family  ties.  The  fol- 
lowing notices  have  been  gleaned  from 
the  most  authentic  sources,  viz.  Lodge's 
"  Illustrations  of  British  History,"  "  The 
Biographia  Britannica,"  &c.  The  letter 
is  in  the  Cotton  collection  of  Manuscripts, 
in  the  British  Museum,  Vespasian.  F.1I1. 


Though  you  be  almost  a  stranger  to  me  but  onely  by  sight,  yet  the  good  opinion  I 
generally  heave  to  be  held  of  your  worth,  together  w»  the  great  interest  you  have  in 
my  Lo.  of  Northamptons  favour,  makes  me  thus  farre  presume  of  your  willing- 
nesse  to  do  a  poore  afflicted  gentlewoman  that  good  office  (if  in  no  other  respect  yet 
because  I  am  a  Christian)  as  to  further  me  w*  your  best  indeuors  to  his  Lo.  that 
it  will  please  him  to  helpe  me  out  of  this  great  distresse  and  misery,  and  regaine 
me  his  Matt-  fauor  which  is  my  chiefest  desire.  Whearin  his  Lo.  may  do  a  deede 
acceptable  to  God  and  honorable  to  himselfe,  and  I  shall  be  infinitely  bound  to  his 
Lo.  and  beholden  to  you,  who  now  till  I  receiue  some  comfort  from  his  Ma1*-  rest 

the  most  sorrowful! 

creatore  lining 


Arabella  Stuart,  whose  name  is  hardly 
mentioned  in  history,  except  with  regard 
to  sir  Walter  Raleigh's  ridiculous  con- 
spiracy, whereby  she  was  to  have  been 
placed  on  a  throne,  to  which  she  had 
neither  inclination  nor  pretensions,  and  by 
means  unknown  to  herself,  was  the  only 
child  of  Charles  Stuart,  fifth  earl  of  Len- 
nox, (uncle  to  king  James  I.,  and  great 
grandson  of  king  Henry  VII.,)  by  Eliza- 
beth, daughter  of  sir  William  Cavendish 
of  Hardwick.  She  was  born  about  the 
year  1578,  and  brought  up  in  privacy, 
under  the  care  of  her  grandmother,  the 
old  countess  of  Lennox,  who,  for  many 
years,  resided  in  England.  Her  double 
relation  to  royalty  was  obnoxious  to  the 
jealousy  of  queen  Elizabeth,  and  the 
timidity  of  king  James  I.,  who  equally 


dreaded  her  having  legitimate  issue,  and 
restrained  her  from  allying  herself  in  a 
suitable  manner.  Elizabeth  prevented 
her  from  marrying  Esme  Stuart,  her  kins- 
man, and  heir  to  the  titles  and  estates  of 
her  family,  and  afterwards  imprisoned 
her  for  listening  to  some  overtures  from 
the  son  of  the  earl  of  Northumberland. 
James,  by  obliging  her  to  reject  many 
splendid  offers  of  marriage,  unwarily  en- 
couraged the  hopes  of  inferior  pretend- 
ers, among  whom,  says  Mr.  Lodge,  was 
the  fantastical  William  Fowler,  secretary 
to  Anne  of  Denmark.  Thus  circum- 
scribed, she  renewed  a  connection  with 
William  Seymour,  grandson  to  the  earl  of 
Hertford,  which, being  discovered  in  1609, 
both  parties  were  summoned  to  appear 
before  the  privy  council,  where  they 


*  Communicated  by  Mr.  Johnson,  of  Newark. 


735 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  3. 


73f 


received  a  severe  reprimand.  This  mode 
of  proceeding  produced  the  very  conse- 
quence which  the  king  meant  to  avoid  ; 
for  the  lady,  sensible  that  her  reputation 
had  been  wounded  by  the  inquiry,  was  in 
a  manner  forced  into  a  marriage,  which 
becoming  publicly  known,  she  was  com- 
mitted to  close  custody,  in  the  house  of 
sir  Thomas  Parry,  chancellor  of  the 
duchy  of  Lancaster,  at  Vauxhall,  and  her 
husband,  Mr.  Seymour,  sent  to  the  Tower. 
In  this  state  of  separation,  however,  they 
concerted  means  for  an  escape,  which 
both  effected  on  the  same  day,  June  3, 
1611.  Seymour  got  safely  to  Flanders  ; 
but  his  poor  wife  was  retaken  in  Calais 
roads,  and  brought  back  to  the  former 
prison  of  her  husband,  the  Tower,  where 
the  sense  of  these  undeserved  oppressions 
operating  severely  on  her  high  spirit, 
she  became  a  lunatic,  and  languished  in 
that  wretched  state,  augmented  by  the 
horrors  of  a  prison,  till  her  death,  which 
.occurred  on  the  27th  of  September,  1615. 
Thus  ends  the  eventful  story  of  poor 
Arabella,  S.  woman,  (if  we  may  credit 
her  portrait,  prefixed  to  Lodge's  third 
volume  of  "  Illustrations  of  British  His- 
tory,") of  commanding  and  elegant  ap- 
pearance, and  undoubtedly  of  a  firm  and 
vigorous  mind ;  and  it  is  well  observed  by 
..hat  author,  that  "  had  the  life  of  Arabella 
Stuart  been  marked  by  the  same  criminal 
extravagancies,  as  well  as  distinguished 
by  similar  misfortunes  and  persecutions, 
her  character  would  have  stood  at  least  as 
forward  on  the  page  of  history  as  that 
of  her  royal  aunt,  Mary  of  Scotland." 
The  above  letter  was,  probably,  written 
from  the  Tower,  though,  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  there  is  neither  direction  nor  super- 
scription,  and,  therefore,  to  whom  can  be 
only  matter  of  surmise. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 


THE  LOVES  OF  "THE  LADY  ARABELLA." 

From  an  article  in  the  "  Curiosities  of 
Literature,"  illustrations  may  be  derived 
to  the  article  of  our  correspondent  &. 
"The  whole  life  of  this  lady  seems  to 
consist  of  secret  history,  which,  probably, 
we  cannot  now  recover :— her  name  scarce- 
ly ever  occurs  without  raising  that  sort  of 
interest  which  accompanies  mysterious 
events."  She  is  reputed  to  have  been 
learned,  and  of  a  poetical  genius;  yet  of 
her  poetry  there  are  no  specimens,  and 


her  erudition  rests  on  Evelyn's  "bare  men- 
tion of  her  name  in  his  list  of  learned 
women. 

On  the  death  of  queen  Elizabeth  the 
pope  conceived  the  notion  of  restoring 
the  papacy  in  England,  by  uniting  the 
lady  Arabella  to  an  Italian  cardinal,  of 
illegitimate  descent  from  our  Edward  IV. 
His  holiness  presumed  if  he  qualified  the 
cardinal  for  marriage,  by  depriving  him 
from  the  priesthood,  the  junction  of  Ara- 
bella's relationship  to  Henry  VII.,  with 
the  churchman's  "natural"  pretensions, 
might  secure  the  crown !  Her  attach- 
ment to  the  catholic  religion  is  doubtful. 
Perhaps  her  disposition  was  rightly  esti- 
mated by  father  Parsons  :  he  imagined 
"  her  religion  to  be  as  tender,  green,  and 
flexible,  as  is  her  age  and  sex ;  and  to  be 
wrought  hereafter,  and  settled  according 
to  future  events  and  times."  The  pope's 
plot  failed.  Winwood  says,  "  the  lady 
Arabella  hath  not  been  found  inclinable 
to  popery."  He  wrote  after  the  "  future 
events,"  contemplated  by  Parsons,  had 
"  wrought." 

Another  project  for  making  the  lady 
Arabella  queen  was  after  the  enthrone- 
ment of  James.  The  conspirators  re- 
quested her  by  letter  to  address  herself  to 
the  king  of  Spain;  she  laughed  at  the 
letter  and  sent  it  to  James,  who,  as  re- 
garded her,  did  not  think  of  it  more 
seriously,  and  so  failed  a  second  plot, 
wherein  the  name  of  the  illustrious  Ra- 
leigh was  implicated. 

In  the  year  1604,  there  appears  to  have 
been  a  third  design  to  make  her  queen, 
though  not  of  this  country.  The  earl  of 
Pembroke  writes  to  the'  earl  of  Shrews- 
bury—" A  great  ambassador  is  coming 
from  the  king  of  Poland,  whose  chief 
errand  is  to  demand  my  lady  Arabella  in 
marriage  for  his  master.  So  may  your 
princess  of  the  blood  grow  a  great  queen." 
If  this  was  the  object  of  the  embassy, 
nothing  came  of  it. 

Before  the  death  of  queen  Elizabeth, 
the  marriage  of  the  lady  Arabella  with 
her  kinsman  lord  Esme  Stuart,  whom  he 
had  created  duke  of  Lennox,  and  designed 
for  his  heir,  was  proposed  by  James  him- 
self, but  Elizabeth  "  forbad  the  bans  "  by 
imprisoning  the  proposed  bride,  who  was 
suspected  to  have  favoured  a  son  of  the 
earl  of  Northumberland,  against  whom 
Elizabeth  again  interposed.  She  nad 
other  offers.  "  To  the  lady  Arabella, 
crowns  and  husbands  were  like  a  fairy 
banquet  seen  at  moonlight,  opening  on 


737 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  3. 


733 


her  sight,  impalpable  and  vanishing  at 
the  moment  of  approach." 

The  distresses  of  this  unhappy  creature 
were  heightened  by  her  dependence  on 
the  crown  She  was  the  cousin  of  James, 
and  it  was  his  narrow  policy  to  constrain 
her  from  a  match  suitable  to  her  rank,  or 
perhaps  to  keep  her  single  for  life.  Her 
supplies  were  unequal :  at  one  time  she 
had  a  grant  of  the  duty  on  oats  ;  at  length 
he  assigned  her  a  pension  of  1600/. :  but 
whenever  he  suspected  a  natural  desire  in 
her  heart  she  was  out  of  favour.  No 
woman  was  ever  more  solicited  to  the 
conjugal  state,  or  seems  to  have  been  so 
little  averse  to  it.  "  Every  noble  youth 
who  sighed  for  distinction,  ambitioned 
the  notice  of  the  lady  Arabella." 

Her  renewal  of  an  early  attachment  to 
Mr.  William  Seymour,  second  son  of  lord 
Beauchamp,  and  grandson  of  the  earl  of 
Hertford,  forms  a  story  which  "  for  its 
misery,  its  pathos,  and  its  terror,  even 
romantic  fiction  has  not  executed."  It 
was  detected,  and  the  lady  Arabella  and 
Seymour  were  summoned  before  the  privy 
council,  where  Seymour  was  "  censured 
for  seeking  to  ally  himself  with  the  royal 
blood,  although  that  blood  was  running 
in  his  own  veins."  In  his  answer,  "  he 
conceived  that  this  noble  lady  might, 
without  offence,  make  the  choice  of  any 
subject  within  this  kingdom."  He  says, 
"  I  boldly  intruded  myself  into  her  lady- 
ship's chamber,  in  the  court,  on  Candle- 
mass  day  last,  at  what  time  I  imparted 
my  desire  unto  her,  which  was  entertain- 
ed ;  but  with  this  caution  on  either  part, 
that  both  of  us  resolved  not  to  proceed  to 
any  final  conclusion  without  his  majesty's 
most  gracious  favour  first  obtained  :  and 
this  was  our  first  meeting/'  The  lovers 
gravely  promised  to  suppress  their  affec- 
tions, with  what  sincerity  is  not  known, 
for  they  married  secretly ;  and  in  July  the 
lady  Arabella  was  arrested,  and  confined 
at  .the  house  of  sir  Thomas  Parry,  at 
Lambeth,  and  Seymour  committed  to  the 
Tower,  "  for  contempt  in  marrying  a  lady 
of  the  royal  family  without  the  king's 
leave." 

Arabella  wrote  a  letter  to  the  king, 
which  was  "  often  read  without  offence, 
nay,  it  was  even  commended  by  his  high- 
ness, wilh  the  applause  of  prince  and 
council."  She  adverted  to  her  wrongs, 
and  required  justice  with  a  noble  forti- 
tude, though  in  respectful  terms.  She 
says,  "I  do  most  heartily  lament  my  hard 
fortune,  that  I  should  offend  your  majesty 

VOL.  ii.~ re. 


the  least,  especially  in  that  whereby  I 
have  long  des'.red  to  merit  of  your  ma- 
jesty, as  appeared  before  your  majesty 
was  my  sovereign :  and  though  your 
majesty's  neglect  of  me,  my  good  liking 
to  this  gentleman  that  is  my  husband, 
and  my  fortune,  drew  me  to  a  contract 
before  I  acquainted  your  majesty,  I  hum- 
bly beseech  your  majesty  to  consider  how 
impossible  it  was  for  me  to  imagine  it 
could  be  offensive  to  your  majesty,  having 
few  days  before  given  me  your  royal  con- 
sent to  bestow  myself  on  any  subject  of 
your  majesty's  (which  likewise  your  ma- 
jesty had  done  long  since).  Besides, 
never  having  been  either  prohibited  any, 
or  spoken  to  for  any,  in  this  land,  by  your 
majesty  these  seven  years  that  I  have  lived 
in  your  majesty's  house,  I  could  not  con- 
ceive that  your  majesty  regarded  my  mar- 
riage at  all;  whereas  if  your  majesty  had 
vouchsafed  to  tell  me  your  mind,  and 
accept  the  free-will  offering  of  my  obe- 
dience, I  would  not  have  offended  your 
majesty,  of  whose  gracious  goodness  I 
presume  so  much,  that  if  it  were  now  as 
convenient  in  a  ivorldty  respect,  as  malice 
may  make  it  aeem,  to  separate  us,  whom 
God  hath  joined,  your  majesty  would  not 
do  evil  that  good  might  come  thereof,  nor 
make  me,  that  have  the  honour  to  be  so 
near  your  majesty  in  blood,  th^  first  pre- 
cedent that  ever  was,  though  our  princes 
may  have  left  some  as  little  imitable,  foi 
so  good  and  gracious  a  king  as  your  ma- 
jesty, as  David's  dealing  with  Uriah." 

She  moved  the  queen,  through  lady 
Jane  Drummond,  to  interest  James  in  her 
favour.  A  letter  from  lady  Jane  com- 
municates his  majesty's  coarse  and  con- 
ceited reply,  and  she  concludes  by  frankly 
telling  the  captive  wife,  "  the  wisdom  of 
this  state,  with  the  example  how  some  of 
your  quality  in  the  like  case  has  been 
used,  makes  me  fear  that  ye  shall  not  find 
so  easy  end  to  your  troubles  as  ye  exppct 
or  I  wish." 

To  lady  Drummond's  prophetic  in- 
timation, Arabella  answers  by  sending 
the  queen  a  pair  of  gloves  "  in  remem- 
brance of  the  poor  prisoner  that  wrought 
them,  in  hopes  her  royal  hands  will 
vouchsafe  to  wear  them  :"  and  she  adds, 
that  her  case  "  could  be  compared  to  no 
other  she  ever  heard  of,  resembling  no 
other."  She  contrived  to  correspond 
with  Seymour,  but  their  letters  were  dis- 
covered, and  the  king  resolved  to  change 
her  place  of  confinement. 

James  appointed  the  bishop  of  Durham 


739 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  3, 


740 


to  be  his  jailor  on  the  occasion.  "  Lady 
Arabella  was  so  subdued  at  this  distant 
separation,  that  she  gave  way  to  all  the 
wildness  of  despair ;  she  fell  suddenly  ill, 
and  could  not  travel  but  in  a  litter,  and 
with  a  physician.  In  her  way  to  Dur- 
ham, she  was  so  greatly  disquieted  in  the 
tirst  few  miles  of  her  uneasy  and  trouble- 
some journey,  that  they  would  proceed 
no  further  than  to  Highgate.  The  phy- 
sician returned  to  town  to  report  her 
state,  and  declared  that  she  was  assuredly 
very  weak,  her  pulse  dull  and  melancholy, 
and  very  irregular ;  her  countenance  very 
heavy,  pale,  and  wan ;  and  though  free 
from  fever,  he  declared  her  in  no  case  fit 
for  travel.  The  king  observed,  *  It  is 
enough  to  make  any  sound  man  sick  to 
be  carried  in  a  bed  in  that  manner  she 
is ;  much  more  for  her  whose  impatient 
and  unquiet  spirit  heapeth  upon  herself 
far  greater  indisposition  of  body  than 
otherwise  she  would  have.'  His  resolu- 
tion however  was,  that  l  she  should  pro- 
ceed to  Durham,  if  he  were  king  /'  l  We 
answered,'  replied  the  doctor,  *  that  we 
made  no  doubt  of  her  obedience.'  — 
*  Obedience  is  that  required,'  replied  the 
king,  '  which  being  performed,  I  will  do 
more  for  her  than  she  expected.'"  Yet  he 
consented  to  her  remaining  a  month  at 
Highgate.  As  the  day  of  her  departure 
approached,  she  appeared  resigned.  "  But 
Arabella  had  not,  within,  that  tranquillity 
with  which  she  had  lulled  her  keepers. 
She  and  Seymour  had  concerted  a  flight, 
as  bold  in  its  plot,  and  as  beautifully 
wild,  as  any  recorded  in  romantic  story. 
The  day  preceding  her  departure,  Arabella 
found  it  not  difficult  to  persuade  a  female 
attendant  to  consent  that  she  would  suffer 
her  to  pay  a  last  visit  to  her  husband,  and 
to  wait  for  her  return  at  an  appointed 
hour.  More  solicitous  for  the  happiness 
of  lovers  than  for  the  repose  of  kings,  this 
attendant,  in  utter  simplicity,  or  with 
generous  sympathy,  assisted  the  lady 
Arabella  in  dressing  her  in  one  of  the 
most  elaborate  disguisings,  '  She  drew  a 
pair  of  large  French-fashioned  hose  or 
trowsers  over  her  petticoats ;  put  on  a 
man's  doublet  or  coat ;  a  peruke,  such  as 
men  wore,  whose  long  locks  covered  her 
own  ringlets  ;  a  black  hat,  a  black  cloak, 
russet  boots  with  red  tops,  and  a  rapier 
by  her  side/  Thus  accoutred,  the  lady 
Arabella  stole  out  with  a  gentleman  ab  ut 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  She  had 
only  proceeded  a  mile  and  a  half,  when 
they  stopped  at  a  poor  inn,  where  one  of 


her  confederates  was  waiting  with  horses 
yet  she  was  so  sick  and  faint,  that  the 
ostler,  who  held  her  stirrup,  observed, 
that  '  the  gentleman  could  hardly  hold 
out  to  London.'  She  recruited  her  spirits 
by  riding;  the  blood  mantled  in  her  face, 
and  at  six  o'clock  our  sick  lover  reached 
Blackwall,  where  a  boat  and  servants  were 
waiting.  The  watermen  were  at  first  or- 
dered to  Woolwich;  there  they  were 
desired  to  push  on  to  Gravesend,  then  to 
Tilbury,  where,  complaining  of  fatigue, 
they  landed  to  refresh ;  but,  tempted  by 
their  freight,  they  reached  Lee.  At  the 
break  of  morn  they  discovered  a  French 
vessel  riding  there  to  receive  the  lady ; 
but  as  Seymour  had  not  yet  arrived,  Ara- 
bella was  desirous  to  lie  at  anchor  for  her 
lord,  conscious  that  he  would  not  fail  to 
his  appointment.  If  he  indeed  had  been 
prevented  in  his  escape,  she  herself  cared 
not  to  preserve  the  freedom  she  now  pos- 
sessed ;  but  her  attendants,  aware  of  the 
danger  of  being  overtaken  by  a  king's 
ship,  overruled  her  wishes,  and  hoisted 
sail,  which  occasioned  so  fatal  a  termina- 
tion to  this  romantic  adventure.  Seymour 
indeed  had  escaped  from  the  Tower ;  he 
had  left  his  servant  watching  at  his  door 
to  warn  all  visiters  not  to  disturb  his 
master,  who  lay  ill  with  a  raging  tooth- 
ache, while  Seymour  in  disguise  stole 
away  alone,  following  a  cart  which  had 
just  brought  wood  to  his  apartment.  He 
passed  the  warders ;  he  reached  the  wharf, 
and  found  his  confidential  man  waiting 
with  a  boat,  and  he  arrived  at  Lee.  The 
time  pressed;  the  waves  were  rising; 
Arabella  was  not  there ;  but  in  the  dis- 
tance he  descried  a  vessel.  Hiring  a 
fisherman  to  take  him  on  board,  to  his 
grief,  on  hailing  it,  he  discovered  that  it 
was  not  the  French  vessel  charged  with 
his  Arabella;  in  despair  and  confusion 
he  found  another  ship  from  Newcastle, 
which  for  a  good  sum  altered  its  course, 
and  landed  him  in  Flanders." 

On  the  lady  Arabella's  escape,  "  cou- 
riers were  despatched  swifter  than  the 
winds  wafted  the  unhappy  Arabella,  and 
all  was  hurry  in  the  seaports.  They  sent 
to  the  Tower  to  warn  the  lieutenant  to  be 
doubly  vigilant  over  Seymour,  who,  to 
his  surprise,  discovered  that  his  prisoner 
had  ceased  to  be  so  for  several  hours. 
James  at  first  was  for  issuing  a  proclama- 
tion in  a  style  so  angry  and  vindictive, 
that  it  required  the  moderation  of  Cecil 
to  preserve  the  dignity  while  he  concealed 
the  terror  of  his  majesty.  By  the  admi- 


741 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  3. 


742 


ral's  detail  of  his  impetuous  movements, 
he  seemed  in  pursuit  of  an  enemy's  fleet; 
for  the  courier  is  urged,  and  the  post- 
masters are  roused  by  a  superscription, 
which  warned  them  of  the  eventful  des- 
patch, *  Haste,  haste,  post  haste  !  Haste 
for  your  life,  your  life  !'  To  these  words, 
in  a  letter  from  the  earl  of  Essex  to  the 
lord  high  admiral  at  Plymouth,  were 
added  the  expressive  symbol  of 

lows  prepared  with  a  halter,  thus 

There  is  no  doubt,  as  is  well  expressed, 
that  "  the  union  and  flight  of  these  two 
doves,  from  their  cotes,  shook  with  con- 
sternation the  grey  owls  of  the  cabinet :" 
even  "  prince  Henry  partook  of  this  cabi- 
net panic." 

Meanwhile  "  we  have  left  the  lady  Ara- 
bella alone  and  mournful  on  the  seas,  not 
praying  for  favourable  gales  to  convey  her 
away,  but  still  imploring  her  attendants 
to  linger  for  her  Seymour ;  still  straining 
her  sight  to  the  point  of  the  horizon  for 
some  speck  which  might  give  a  hope  of 
the  approach  of  the  boat  freighted  with  all 
her  love.  Alas !  never  more  was  Ara- 
bella to  cast  a  single  look  on  her  lover 
and  her  husband !  She  was  overtaken  by 
a  pink  in  the  king's  service,  in  Calais 
roads;  and  now  she  declared  that  she 
cared  not  to  be  brought  back  again  to 
her  imprisonment  should  Seymour  escape, 
whose  safety  was  dearest  to  her ! " 

Where  London's  Tow're  its  turrets  show 
So  stately  by  the  Thames's  side, 

Fair  Arabella,  child  of  woe  ! 

For  many  a  day  had  sat  and  sighed. 

And  as  shee  heard  the  waves  arise, 

And  as  shee  heard  thebleake  windes  roare, 

As  fast  did  heave  her  heartfelte  sighes, 
And  still  so  fast  her  teares  did  poure  !* 

During  a  confinement  of  four  years  the 
lady  Arabella  "  sunk  beneath  the  hopeless- 
ness of  her  situation,  and  a  secret  resolu- 
tion in  her  mind  to  refuse  the  aid  of  her 
physicians,  and  to  wear  away  the  faster, 
if  she  could,  the  feeble  remains  of  life." 
The  particulars  of  her  "  dreadful  impri- 
sonment" are  unknown,  but  her  letters 
show  her  affliction,  and  that  she  often 
thought  on  suicide,  and  as  often  was  pre- 
vented by  religious  fortitude.  "  I  could 
not,"  she  says,  "be  so  unchristian  as  to 
be  the  cause  of  my  own  death." 

*  "  Arabella  Stuart,"  in  Evang's  Old  Ballads: 
supposed  to  have  been  written  by  MickJc. 


She  aftectir.gly  paints  her  situation  in 
one  of  her  addresses  to  James.  "  In 
all  humility,  the  most  wretched  and 
unfortunate  creature  that  ever  lived, 
prostrates  itselfe  at  the  feet  of  the  most 
merciful  king  that  ever  was,  desiring  no- 
thing but  mercy  and  favour,  not  being 
more  afflicted  for  any  thing  than  for  the 
losse  of  that  which  hath  binne  this  long 
time  the  onely  comfort  it  had  in  the 
world,  and  which,  if  it  weare  to  do  again, 
I  would  not  adventure  the  losse  of  for 
any  other  worldly  comfort ;  mercy  it  is  I 
desire,  and  that  for  God's  sake  !  " 

She  "  finally  lost  her  reason,"  and  died 
in  prison  distracted.  "  Such  is  the  his- 
tory of  the  lady  Arabella.  A  writer  of 
romance  might  render  her  one  of  those  in- 
teresting personages  whose  griefs  have 
been  deepened  by  their  royalty,  and 
whose  adventures,  touched  with  the  warm 
hues  of  love  and  distraction,  closed  at  the 
bars  of  her  prison-grate — a  sad  example 
of  a  female  victim  to  the  state ! 
*  Through  one  dim  lattice,  fring'd  with  ivy 
round, 

Successive  suns  a  languid  radiance  threw, 
To   paint   how   fierce   her   angry    guardian 
frown'd, 

To  mark  how  fast  her  waning  beauty  fle  w !'" 

Her  husband,  Seymour,  regained  his 
liberty.  Charles  I.  created  him  marquis 
of  Hertford ;  and,  under  Charles  II.,  the 
dukedom  of  Somerset,  whick  had  been 
lost  to  his  family  by  attainder  for  ancient 
defections,  was  restored  to  it  in  his  per- 
son. He  "  retained  his  romantic  passion 
for  the  lady  of  his  first  affections ;  for  he 
called  the  daughter  he  had  by  his  second 
lady  by  the  ever  beloved  name  of  ARA- 
BELLA STUART/'* 

Nothing  remains  to  mark  the  character 
of  this  noble  -  minded  female,  but  the 
scanty  particulars  from  whence  the  pre- 
sent are  gathered,  with  some  letters  and 
a  few  rhapsodies  written  while  her  heart 
was  breaking,  and  her  understanding  pe- 
rishing. At  that  period  she  wrote  the  letter 
here  brought  to  light  towards  gratifying  a 
natural  curiosity  for  every  thing  relating 
to  her  character  and  person  ;  with  the 
same  intent  her  handwriting  is  faithfully 
traced,  and  subjoined  from  her  subscrip- 
tion to  the  original. 

LADY  JANE  DRUMMONU. 
The  lady  Arabella's  suitor  to  her  ma 
jesty,  lady  Jane  Drummond,  was  third 

*  Mr.  D'Israfcli. 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  4. 


744 


daughter  of  Patrick,  third  lord  Drum- 
mond.  She  married  Robert,  the  second 
earl  of  Roxburghe,  and  was  mother  to 
Hary,  lor  Ker.  She  possessed  distin- 
guished abilities,  was  one  of  the  ladies  of 
the  queen's  bedchamber,  and  governess 
to  the  royal  children,  She  died  Octo- 
ber 7,  1 643.  Her  funeral  was  fixed  on 
by  the  royalists  as  a  convenient  pretext 
to  assemble  for  a  massacre  of  the  leading 
covenanters,  but  the  numbers  proved  too 
inconsiderable  for  the  attempt.  She  was 
hurried  in  the  family  vault  in  the  chapel- 
royal,  Holyrood-house :  the  vault  was 
long  open  to  public  view.  The  editor  of 
"  Heriot's  Life,"  in  1822,  gives  her  auto- 
graph as  "  Jane  Drummond,"  and  speaks 
of  having  seen  her  coffin  and  remains 
thirty  years  before,  shortly  after  which 
period  he  believes  the  vault  to  have  been 
closed.  In  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine" 
of  February,  1799,  plate  II.,  there  is  a 
fac-simile  of  her  autograph,  as  countess  of 
Roxburghe,  from  her  receipt,  dated  May 
10,  1617,  for  "•  5001.,  part  of  the  sum  of 
3000/.,  of  his  majesty's  free  and  princely 
gift  to  her,  in  consideration  of  long  and 
faithful  service  done  to  the  queen,  as  one 
of  the  ladies  of  the  bedchamber  to  her 
majesty." 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  . .  58  *  15. 

Suite  4. 

REMARKABLE  CELEBRATION. 

This  was  king  George  the  Third's  birth- 
day, and  therefore  during  his  reign  was 
kept  at  court,  and  in  many  towns  through- 
out the  kingdom. 

At  Bexhill,  011  the  coast  of  Sussex, 
where  the  inhabitants,  who  scarcely  ex- 
ceed 800,  are  remarkable  for  longevity 
and  loyalty,  on  the  4th  of  June,  1819, 
they  celebrated  the  king's  birth-day  in  an 
appropriate  and  remarkable  manner. 
Twenty-five  old  men,  inhabitants  of  the 
parish,  whose  united  ages  amounted  to 
2025,  averaging  eighty-one  each  (the  age 
of  the  king)  dined  together  at  the  Bell 
I«n,  and  passed  the  day  in  a  cheerful  and 
happy  manner.  The  dinner  was  set  on 
table  by  fifteen  other  old  men,  also  of  the 
above  parish,  whose  united  ages  amounted 
to  seventy-one  each,  and  six  others,  whose 
ages  amounted  to  sixty-one  each,  rang 
the  bells  on  the  occasion.  The  old  men 
dined  at  one  o'clock ;  and  at  half-past  two 


a  public  dinner  was  served  up  to  the 
greater  part  of  the  respectable  inhabitants 
to  the  number  of  eighty-one,  who  were 
also  the  subscribers  to  the  old  men's  din- 
ner.  The  assembly  room  was  decorated 
with  seveial  appropriate  devices;  and 
some  of  the  old  men,  with  the  greater 
part  of  the  company,  enjoyed  themselves 
to  a  late  hour.  * 


BELL  RINGING 

and 
HAND  BELLS  IN  CHURCHES. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Daij  Book. 

Sir, — In  pp.  161-2,  vol.  ii.,  your  corres- 
pondent H.  H.  N.  N.  of  Newark,  informs 
us  of  the  custom  of  ringing  a  bell  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  eight  in  the 
evening;  likewise  of  a  set  of  "hand 
bells"  kept  in  the  church  there ;  and 
desires  to  be  informed  of  their  use. 
Although  I  cannot  inform  him  of  the 
particular  origin  of  ringing  the  bell  at 
particular  hours  in  that  town,  yet  by 
stating  the  practice  in  some  other  towns, 
it  may,  perhaps,  contribute  to  unravel  its 
meaning.  With  regard  to  the  "hand  bells," 
it  seems  probable  that  they  were  originally 
placed  in  churches  for  the  use  of  the 
ringers,  who  employed  their  leisure  in 
practising  and  amusing  themselves  in  the 
evenings  when  not  engaged  in  the  belfry, 
as  is  the  case  at  the  present  time  in  some 
parts  of  London.  Although  I  do  not 
recollect  where  the  hand  bells  are  used  in 
town,  yet  1  have  more  than  once  lately 
heard  it  mentioned  in  Fenchurch-street 
and  its  neighbourhood,  that  the  ringers 
were  in  the  practice  of  amusing  them- 
selves with  hand  bells  at  a  public-house 
where  they  assembled  for  the  purpose  of 
practising ;  and  it  is  more  than  probable, 
that  some  of  your  readers  in  that  neigh- 
bourhood can  furnish  you  with  further 
particulars. 

In  most  of  the  towns  in  the  west  of 
England,  they  have  a  custom  of  ringing 
one  of  the  church  bells  (generally  the 
treble  bell)  in  the  morning  and  evenings. 
Among  other  towns  I  noticed  at  Dor- 
chester, Dorset,  the  practice  of  ringing  a 
bell  at  six  in  the  morning  in  the  summer, 
and  seven  in  the  winter,  at  one  o'clock  at 
noon,  and  at  eight  in  the  evening,  con- 
cluding after  ringing  at  eight  o'clock  with 
striking  as  many  strokes  as  the  month  is 
days  old  ;  and  this  practice  I  was  there 

*  Sussex  paper. 


74J 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  5. 


746 


informed  was  for  calling  people  to  work 
in  the  morning,  the  time  for  dinner,  and 
for  leaving  work  in  the  evening*. 

At  another  town  in  Dorsetshire,  Sher- 
borne,  they  have  an  almost  endless  "  ding- 
dong,"  "  twing-twang,"  or  "  bim-bome," 
throughout  the  day.  Happening  to  be 
ately  there  on  a  market-day  (Saturday)  I 
was  awakened  in  the  morning,  at  four 
o'clock,  by  the  ringing  of  the  "  church 
treble  bell;"  at  six  o'clock  the  church 
"  chimes  "  were  in  play ;  at  a  quarter 
before  seven  the  "  almshouse  bell"  began, 
and  continued  to  ring  till  seven,  which  is 
said  to  be  for  the  purpose  of  calling  the 
scholars  of  king  Edward  the  Sixth's  gram- 
mar school  to  their  studies,  who  were  no 
sooner  assembled  than  the  "  school  bell " 
announced  the  master's  approach.  At 
half-past  eight  the  "  almshouse  bell"  sum- 
moned the  almsmen  and  women  to 
prayers  ;  at  nine  the  "  chimes ;"  at  eleven 
the  "  wholesale  market  bell ;"  at  tivelve 
the  "  chimes;"  at  one  the  "  school  bell" 
for  dinner ;  at  half-past  one  the  "  retail 
market  bell ;"  at  three  the  "  chimes,"  and 
the  church  "  great  bell  "*  tolled  twice  at 
a  short  interval,  when,  what  is  appositely 
enough  called  the  "  tanging  bell,"  rang 
until  the  minister  and  religiously  inclined 
had  assembled  for  prayer ;  at  four  the 
4i  ulmshouse  bell ;"  at  six  the  "  chimes ;" 
at  seven  the  "  school  bell"  for  supper ;  at 
eight  the  "church  bell,"  which  rang  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  and  concluded  by 
giving  eight  strokes ;  at  nine  the  "  chimes," 
and  .the  "  school  bell"  for  bed. 

So  much  bell  ringing  and  tolling  na- 
turally led  to  an  inquiry  of  the  several 
causes  that  gave  rise  to  it.  By  some,  the 
first  morning  and  eight  o'clock  bell  is 
called  the  "  curfew  bell,"  and  the  practice 
of  ringing  it  is  said  to  have  been  con- 
tinued from  the  time  of  William  the 
Conqueror,  who,  by  one  of  his  laws, 
ordered  the  people  to  put  out  their  fires 
and  lights,  and  go  to  bed  at  the  eight 
o'clock  curfew  bell ;  and  others  affirmed 
it  to  be,  for  the  purpose  of  summoning 
the  people  to  their  labours. 

The  practice  of  ringing  a  church  bell 
in  the  morning  and  evening  is  common  in 


most  towns  where  they  have  a  bell, 
although  its  origin  is  seldom  inquired 
about  or  noticed.  I  have  often  made 
inquiries  on  the  subject,  and  have  always 
received  one  of  the  above  answers,  and 
am  inclined  rather  to  believe  its  origin  is 
the  "  curfew  bell,"  although  it  now  serves 
more  the  purpose  of  warning  people  to 
their  labours,  than  for  the  ««  extinction 
and  relighting  of  all  fire  and  candle 
lights." 

I  am,  &c.  II.  T  * 


*  This  bell  is  said  to  weigh  3  tons  5  cwt.,  and 
to  be  the  treble  of  a  ring  of  bells  brought  from 
Tournay  by  cardinal  Wolsey,  whereof  one  is  at 
St.  Paul's,  one  at  Oxford,  one  at  Lincoln,  and 
one  at  Exeter.  The  motto  on  the  crown  of  this 
bell,  which  is  called  the  great  bell,  is  said  to  be— 

"  By  Woolsoy's  gift  I  measure  time  for  all ; 
For  mirth,  for  grief,  for  church,  1  serve  to  call." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  59  *  22. 

Stane  5. 

1826.     FIRST  MONDAY  IN  JUNE. 

Heriot's  Hospital,  Edinburgh. 
A  solemn  festival  in  the  Scottish  me- 
tropolis is  ordained  by  the  "  Statutes  of 
George  Heriot's  Hospital,"  (cap.  ii.)  in  the 
following  words  : — "  But  especially  upon 
the  first  Monday  in    June,   every   year, 
shall  be  kept  a  solemn   commemoration 
and  thanksgiving  unto  God,  in  this  fcrm 
which  followeth.     In  the  morning,  about 
eight  of  the  clock  of  that  day,  the  lord 
provost,    all    the   ministers,    magistrates, 
and  ordinary  council  of  the  city  of  Edin- 
burgh, shall  assemble  themselves  in  the 
committee-chamber  of  the  said  hospital ; 
from  thence,  all  the  scholars  and  officers 
of  the  said  hospital    going  before  them 
two  by  two,  they  shall   go,  with  all  the 
solemnity  that  may  be,  to  the  Gray  Friars 
church  of  the  said  city,  where  they  shall 
hear   a  sermon  preached   by  one  of  the 
said  ministers,  every  one  yearly  in  their 
courses,  according   to    the    antiquity    of 
their  ministry  in  the  said  city.     The  prin- 
cipal argument  of  the  sermon  shall  be  to 
these  purposes  :  To  give  God  thanks  for 
the  charitable  maintenance  which  the  poor 
maintained  in  the  hospital   received   by 
the  bounty  of  the   said   founder,  of  whom 
shall  be  made  honourable  mention.     To 
exhort  all  men  of  ability,  according  to 
their  means,  to  follow  his  example :  To 
urge  the  necessity  of  good  works,  accord- 
ing to  men's  power,  for  the  testimony  of 
their  faith  :  And  to  clear  the  doctrine  of 
our  church  frcm  all  the  calumnies  of  our 
adversaries,  who  give   us  out  to  be  the 
impugners  of  good  works.     After  the  ser- 


*    For  the    '•'  Curfew   Bell,"   and  '    *arfew,' 
see  yol.  i.  p.  242,  &c. 


74  / 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  5. 


7-48 


raon  ended,  all  above  named  shall  return 
to  the  hospital,  with  the  same  solemnity 
and  order  they  came  from  it,  where  shall 
be  paid  to  the  minister  who  preached,  to 
buy  him  books,  by  the  treasurer  of  the 
hospital  for  the  time  being,  out  of  the 
treasury  or  rents  of  the  hospital,  the  sum 
of 

By  appointment  of  the  governors,  Mr. 
Robert  Douglas,  one  of  the  ministers 
of  Edinburgh,  preached  a  sermon  on 
the  first  Monday  of  June,  of  the 
year  1659,  in  commemoration  of  the 
founder ;  for  this  sermon  he  received  the 
sum  of  one  hundred  marks  "  to  buy  him 
books,"  agreeably  to  the  statutes.  From 
that  time  the  usage  has  been  continued 
annually,  the  ministers  of  Edinburgh 
preaching  in  rotation,  according  to  their 
seniority  of  office,  in  the  old  Gray  Friars 
church. 

On  this  occasion  the  statue  of  the 
founder  is  fancifully  decorated  with 
flowers.  Each  of  the  boys  receives  a 
new  suit  of  clothes ;  their  relations  and 
friends  assemble;  and  the  citizens,  old 
and  young,  being  admitted  to  view  the 
hospital,  the  gaiety  of  the  scene  is  highly 
gratifying. 

It  was  formerly  a  custom  with  the  boys 
to  dress  Heriot's  statue  with  flowers  on 
the  first  of  May,  and  to  renew  them  on 
this  anniversary  festival  when  they  re- 
ceived their  new  clothes.* 

It  should  seem,  therefore,  that  the 
floral  adornment  of  the  statue  annually 
on  this  day,  is  derived  from  its  ancient 
dressing  on  the  first  of  May. 

The  statue  stands  beneath  the  centre 
tower  of  the  north  or  principal  front,  and 
over  the  middle  of  a  vaulted  archway 
leading  to  the  court-yard  of  the  hospital. 
Grose  says,  the  Latin  inscription  above 
the  figure  signifies,  "  that  Heriot's  person 
was  represented  by  that  image,  as  his 
mind  was  by  the  surrounding  founda- 
tion." 


George  Heriot  was  jeweller  to  king 
James  VI.,  subsequently  James  I.,  of 
England.  He  was  born  about  June, 
1563,  eldest  son  to  George  Heriot, 
one  of  the  company  of  goldsmiths  in 
Edinburgh.  The  elder  Heriot  died  in 
1610,  having  been  a  commissioner  in  the 
convention  of  estates  and  parliament  of 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1/45,  p.  686. 


Scotland,  and  a  convener  of  the  trade's  of 
Edinburgh  at  five  different  elections  of 
the  council.  The  goldsmiths  were  then 
the  money-dealers  in  Scotland  ;  they  con- 
sequently ranked  among  the  most  respect- 
able citizens,  and  to  this  profession  the 
subject  of  this  memoir  was  brought  up  by 
his  father. 

It  appears  that  so  late  as  the  year  1483, 
the  goldsmiths  of  Edinburgh  were  classed 
with  the  "  ham  mermen"  or  common  smiths. 
They  were  subsequently  separated,  and  an 
act  of  the  town  council  on  the  twenty-ninth 
of  August,  1581,  conferred  on  the  gold- 
smiths a  monopoly  of  their  trade,  which 
was  confirmed  by  a  charter  from  James 
VI.,  in  the  year  1586. 

A  century  afterwards,  in  1687,  James 
VII.  invested  the  goldsmiths  with  the 
power  of  searching,  inspecting,  and  try- 
ing all  jewels  set  in  gold,  in  every  part  of 
the  kingdom  ;  a  license  to  destroy  all 
false  or  counterfeit  work  ;  to  punish  the 
transgressors  by  imprisonment  or  fines, 
and  seize  the  working  tools  of  all  unfree 
goldsmiths  within  the  city. 


In  January,  1587,  George  Heriot  married 
Christian,  the  daughter  of  Simon  Marjori- 
banks,  an  Edinburgh  merchant.  On  this 
occasion,  his  father  gave  him  1000  marks, 
with  500  more  to  fit  out  his  shop  and 
purchase  implements  and  clothes,  and 
he  had  1  075  marks  with  his  wife.  Their 
united  fortunes  amounted  to  about  21  4/. 
11*.  8rf.,  which  Heriot's  last  biographer 
says,  was  "  a  considerable  sum  in  those 
days  ;  but  rendered  much  more  useful  by 
the  prospect  of  his  father's  business, 
which  would  at  this  time  naturally  be 
transferred  to  the  younger  and  more 
active  man." 

In  May,  1588,  Heriot  became  a  mem- 
ber of  the  incorporation  of  goldsmiths. 
"  Scotland  which  was  then  an  independ- 
ent kingdom,  with  a  court  in  the  metropo- 
lis, though  poor  in  general,  was  probably 
in  a  state  not  less  favourable  to  the  suc- 
cess of  Heriot's  occupation  than  at  present. 
A  rude  magnificence  peculiar  to  the  age, 
atoned  for  want  of  elegance,  by  the  massy 
splendour  of  its  ornaments.  The  nobles 
were  proud  and  extravagant  when  their 
fortunes  would  permit  ;  and  Ann  of 
Denmark,  the  reigning  queen,  was  fond 
of  show  and  gallantry."  During  this 
period,  Heriot  was  employed  by  the  court. 
In  1597,  he  was  made  goldsmith  to  the 


749 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  5. 


750 


queen,  and  so  declared  "  at  the  crosse, 
be  opin  proclamatione  and  sound  of  trum- 
pet." Shortly  after,  he  was  appointed 
jeweller  and  goldsmith  to  the  king,  with  a 
right  to  the  lucrative  privileges  of  that 
office. 

fieriot  rose  to  opulence,  and  lost  his 
wife;  he  afterwards  married  Alison, 
eldest  daughter  of  James  Primrose,  clerk 
to  the  privy-council,  and  grandfather  of 
the  first  earl  of  Roseberry.  On  the  ac- 
cession of  James  to  the  throne  of  England, 
he  followed  the  court  to  London,  where 
he  continued  to  reside  almost  constantly. 
He  obtained  eminence  and  wealth,  and 
died  there  on  the  twelfth  of  February, 
1624,  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age,  and 
was  buried  at  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields. 


Queen  Ann  of  Denmark's  Jewels. 

In  a  volume  of  original  accounts  and 
vouchers  relative  to  Heriot's  transactions 
with  the  queen,  there  are  several  charges 
which  illustrate  the  fashion  of  the  times 
in  these  expensive  decorations,  viz. — 

For  making  a  brilliant  in  form  of  a 
ship. 

For  gold  and  making  of  a  Valentine. 

A  ring  with  a  heart  and  a  serpent,  all 
set  about  with  diamonds ; 

Two  pendants  made  like  moore's 
heads,  and  all  sett  with  diamonds ; 

A  ring  with  a  single  diamond,  set  in  a 
heart  betwixt  two  hands. 

Two  flies  with  diamonds. 

A  great  ring  in  the  form  of  a  perssed 
eye  and  a  perssed  heart,  all  sett  with 
diamonds. 

One  great  ring,  in  forme  of  a  frog,  all 
set  with  diamonds,  price  two  hundreth 
voundis. 

A  Jewell  in  forme  of  a  butterfly. 

A  Jewell  in  forme  of  a  lillye,  sett  of 
diamonds. 

An  anker  sett  with  diamonds. 

A  Jewell  in  form  of  a  honey-suckle. 

A  pair  of  pendants,  made  lyke  two 
drums,  sett  with  diamondis. 

A  jewel,  in  forme  of  a  jolley  flower, 
sett  with  diamonds. 

A  Jewell  in  forme  of  a  home  of  abound- 
ance,  set  with  6  rose  diamondis,  and  12 
table  diamondis. 

A  ring  of  a  burning  heart  set  with 
diamondis. 

A  ring,  in  forme  of  a  scallope  shell,  set 
with  a  table  diamond,  and  opening  on  the 
head. 


A  pair  of  pendentis  of  two  handis,  and 
two  serpentis  hanging  at  them. 

A  parrate  of  diamondis. 

A  ring  of  a  love  trophe  set  with  dia- 
mondis. 

Two  rings,  lyke  black  flowers,  with  a 
table  diamond  in  each. 

A  daissie  ring  sett  with  a  table  dia- 
mond. 

A  Jewell  in  fashioneof  a  bay  leaf,  open- 
ing for  a  pictur,  and  set  with  diamondis 
on  the  one  syde. 

A  pair  of  lizard  pendantis,  set  with 
diamondis. 

A  Jewell  for  a  hatt,  in  forme  of  a  bay 
leafe,  all  set  with  diamonds. 

A  little  watch  set  all  over  with  dia- 
monds, 170?. 

A  ryng  sett  all  over  with  diamondis, 
made  in  fashion  of  a  lizard,  1 20/. 

A  ring  set  with  9  diamonds,  and  open- 
ing on  the  head  with  the  king's  picture  in 
that. 

MARGARET  HARTSYDE. 

In  an  account  of  "Jewells  and  other 
furnishings,"  which  were  "sould  and 
deliuered  to  the  Queene's  most  excellent 
ma*-ie-  from  the  xth-  of  April,  1607,  to 
the  Xth-  of  February  followinge,  by 
George  Heriote,  her  Highnes*  jewellor," 
there  is  the  following 

"  Item,  deliuered  to  Margarett  Hartayde 
a  ring  sett  all  about  with  diamonds,  and 
a  table  diamond  on  the  head,  which  she 
gaue  me  to  understand  was  by  her  Mats' 
direction,  price xxx  K." 

This  item  in  reference  to  Margaret 
Hartsyde  is  remarkable,  because  it  ap- 
pears that  this  female,  who  had  been  in 
the  royal  household,  was  tried  in  Edin- 
burgh on  the  31st  of  May,  1608,  for 
stealing  a  pearl,  worth  1107.  sterling 
belonging  to  the  queen.  She  pretended 
that  she  retained  these  pearls  to  adorn 
dolls  for  the  amusement  of  the  royal 
infants,  and  believed  that  the  queen 
would  never  demand  them;  but  it  ap- 
peared that  she  used  "  great  cunning  and 
deceit  in  it,"  and  disguised  the  jewels  so 
as  not  to  be  easily  known,  and  offered 
them  to  her  majesty  in  sale.  The  king 
by  special  warrant  declared  her  infamous, 
sentenced  her  to  pay  400J.  sterling  as  the 
value  of  the  jewels,  and  condemned  her 
to  be  imprisoned  in  Blackness  castle  till 
it  was  paid,  and  to  confinement  in  Orkney 
during  her  life.  In  December,  1619, 
eleven  years  afterwards,  "  compeared  the 
king's  advocate,  and  produced  a  letter 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— JUNE 


$ertot'£ 


of  rehabilitation  and  restitution  of  Mar- 
garet Hartsyde  to  her  fame." 

There  is  a  memorial  of  queen  Anne  of 
Denmark's  fondness  for  dogs  in  a  large 
whole-length  portrait  of  her,  surrounded 
by  those  animals,  which  she  holds  in 
leashes.  In  Heriot's  accounts  there  are 
charges  for  their  furniture :  e.  g. 

*'  /fern,  for  the  garnishing  of  yj 
doge  collers,  weighing  in  silver 
xix  ounces iiij  !».  xvs. 

"  /tern,  for  the  workmanshipe 
of  the  said  collers  .  .  .  .  ij  li.  x*. 

"Item,  boght  to  the  said  collers 
ij  ounces  iij  quarters  of  silver 
lace,  at  v*.  vjrf.  ounce  .  .  .  xv*.  id.  ob. 

"  Item,  for  making  trp  of  the 
said  collers  at  ij*.  the  peice  .  xij*." 

Her  majesty's  perfumes  seem  to  have 
derived  additions  from  Heriot.  He  fur- 
nished her  with  "  5  ounces  and  a  half  of 
fyne  civett,  at  IL  4  the  ounce :"  also 

*'  /tan,  for  fower  ounces  of 
fyne  musk  de  Levant,  at  xxxviij*. 
th«  ounce vij  li.  xij*. 

"  Item,  for  a  glass  of  balsome,  ij  li. 

"  Item,  for  a  glass  of  whyte 
balsome,  and  a  glasse  of  black 
balsome j  IL  x*." 

There  are  no  particulars  of  the  private 
life  of  Heriot.  From  small  beginnings, 
he  died  worth  50,000!.,  and  acquired 
hands  and  houses  at  Roehampton,  in 


Surrey,  and  St.  Martin's  in  the  Fields, 
London.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  had 
children  by  either  of  his  wives,  but  he  had 
two  illegitimate  daughters.  To  one  of 
these,  named  in  his  will  as  "Elizabeth 
Band,  now  an  infant  of  the  age  of  ten 
years  or  therabout,  and  remaining  with 
Mr.  Starkey  at  his  house  at  Windsor,"  he 
gave  his  copyholds  in  Roehampton.  To 
the  other,  whom  he  mentions  as  4<  Mar- 
garet Scot,  being  an  infant  about  the  ag« 
of  four  years,  now  remaining  with  one 
Rigden,  a  waterman,  at  his  house  in  the 
parish  of  Fulharo,"  he  left  his  two  free- 
hold messuages  in  St.  George's  in  the 
Fields,  which  he  had  lately  puichased  of 
sir  Nicholas  Fortescue,  knight,  and  Wil- 
liam Fortescue,  his  son:  bis  leasehold 
terms  in  certain  garden  plots  in  that 
parish,  held  of  the  earl  of  Bedford,  he 
bequeathed  to  Margaret  Scot;  and  he 
directed  200/.  to  be  laid  out  at  interest, 
and  paid  to  them  severally  when  of  age  or 
married.  He  gave  101.  to  the  poor  of  St. 
Martin's  parish,  20£  to  the  French  church 
there,  and  30J.  to  Gilbert  Primrose, 
preacher  at  that  church ;  and  after  liber- 
ally providing  for  a  great  number  of  his 
relations,  he  'bequeathed  the  residue  of 
his  estate  to  the  provosts,  bailifis,  minis- 
ters, and  ordinary  town-council  of  Edin- 
burgh, for  the  time  being,  for  and  towards 
the  founding  and  erecting  of  a  hospital  in 
the  said  town,  and  purchasing  lands  iu 
perpetuity,  to  be  employed  in  the  main 


THE  EVEilV-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  5. 

riot's;  Statue  at  fits  SosJpttal, 

"  So  stands  the  statue  that  adorns  the  gate." 


tenance  and  education  of  so  many  poor 
freemen's  sons  of  the  town  as  the  yearly 
value  of  the  lands  would  afford  means  to 
provide  for.  He  appointed  the  said  town 
council  perpetual  governors  of  the  insti- 
tution, which  he  ordained  should  be 
governed  by  such  orders  or  statutes  as  he 


made  in  his  lifetime,  or  as  should  be 
formed  and  signed  after  his  decease  by 
Dr.  Balcanquel,  one  of  his  executors. 

HERIOT'S  HOSPITAL. 
The  residue  of  Heriot's  estate  amounted 
to  23,625/.  10*.  3rf.  which  sum  was  paid 


755 


THE  EVE11Y-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  5. 


756 


by  his  executors,  on  the  12th  of  May, 
1627,  to  the  town-council  of  Edinburgh, 
lie  had  directed  a  large  messuage  in 
Edinburgh,  between  Gray's  close  and 
Todrick's  wynd,  to  be  appropriated  to  the 
hospital;  but  the  governors,  in  conjunction 
with  Dr.  Balcanquel,  finding  it  unfit  for 
the  purpose,  purchased  of  the  citizens  of 
Edinburgh,  eight  acres  and  a  half  of  land 
near  the  Grass  Market,  in  a  field  called  the 
"  High  Riggs,"  and  they  commenced  to 
lay  the  foundation  of  the  present  structure 
on  the  1st  of  July,  1628,  according  to  a 
plan  of  Inigo  Jones.  The  stones  were 
brought  from  Ravelstone,  near  Edin- 
burgh; and  the  building  was  conducted  by 
William  Ayloune,  an  eminent  mason  or 
architect,  with  considerable  deviations 
from  Inigo  Jones's  design,  in  accommo- 
dation to  the  supervening  taste  of  Heriot's 
trustees.  In  1639,  the  progress  of  the 
work  was  interrupted  by  the  troubles  of 
the  period  till  1642.  When  it  was  nearly 
completed,  in  1650,  Cromwell's  army 
occupied  it  as  an  infirmary  for  the  sick 
and  wounded.  It  remained  in  such  pos- 
session till  general  Monk,  in  1658,  on  the 
request  of  a  committee  of  governors, 
removed  the  soldiers  to  the  new  infirm- 
ary in  the  Canongate,  at  the  expense  of 
Heriot's  trustees;  and  on  the  llth  of 
April,  1659,  the  hospital  being  ready, 
thirty  boys  were  admitted.  In  the  follow- 
ing August  they  were  increased  to  forty  ; 
in  1661,  to  fifty-two  ;  in  1753,  to  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty  ;  in  1763,  to  one  hundred 
and  forty ;  and  in  1 822,  the  establishment 
maintained  one  hundred  and  eighty. 

The  children  of  Heriot's  eldest  daugh- 
ter, Elizabeth  Band,  were  among  the 
early  objects  who  benefited  by  the  endow- 
ment. She  had  married  in  England,  but 
being  reduced  to  great  difficulties,  re- 
sorted to  Edinburgh  for  relief.  The  ma- 
gistrates allowed  her  one  thousand  merks 
Scots  annually,  till  her  sons  were  admitted 
jtnto  their  grandfather's  hospital.  She  had 
20*.  afterwards  to  support  her  journey  to 
London,  and  a  present  of  one  thousand 
merks. 


Heriot's  hospital  cost  30,000*.  in  the 
erection.  The  first  managers  purchased 
the  barony  of  Broughton,  a  burgh  of 
regality,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  north- 
ward of  the  city,  a  property  which,  from 
local  circumstances,  seemed  likely  to  rise 
in  value.  On  this  and  other  adjacent 
laud,  the  "  new  town"  of  Edinburgh  now 


stands.  The  greater  part  of  the  valuable 
grounds  from  the  bottom  of  Carlton-hill 
eastward,  reaching  to  Leith,  and  to  the 
east  road  to  Edinburgh,  is  the  property 
of  the  hospital,  which  will  derive  great 
additional  revenue  when  the  buildings  on 
these  lands  complete  the  connection  of 
Leith  with  Edinburgh.  In  1779,  Heriot's 
hospital  possessed  a  real  income  of  1800*. 
per  annum:  its  annual  income  in  1822 
was  supposed  to  have  amounted  to  up- 
wards of  12,000*. 

The  statutes  of  the  hospital  ordain, 
that  the  boys  should  be  taught  "  to  read 
and  write  Scots  distinctly,  to  cypher, 
and  cast  all  manner  of  accounts,"  and 
"the  Latin  rudiments,  but  no  further." 
The  governors,  however,  have  wisely  gone 
so  much  "  further,"  as  to  cause  the  boys 
to  be  instructed  in  Greek,  mathematics, 
navigation,  drawing,  and  other  matters 
suitable  to  the  pursuits  they  are  likely  to 
follow  in  life.  The  majority  of  the  boys 
are  apprenticed  to  trades  in  Edinburgh, 
with  an  allowance  of  10*.  a  year  for  five 
years,  amounting  to  an  apprentice  fee 
of  50/. ;  and  to  each,  who  on  the  expira- 
tion of  his  servitude  produces  a  certifi- 
cate of  good  conduct  from  his  master,  5/. 
is  given  to  purchase  a  suit  of  clothes. 
Those  destined  for  the  learned  professions 
are  sent  to  the  university  for  four  years, 
with  an  allowance  of  30*.  annually.  Six 
or  eight  are  generally  at  college,  in  addi- 
tion to  ten  bursers  selected  by  the  govern- 
ors from  other  seminaries,  who  have 
each  an  annual  allowance  of  20*. 


George  Heriot  confided  to  his  intimate 
friend  "  Mr.  Walter  Balcanquel,  doctor  in 
divinity  and  master  of  the  Savoy,"  the 
•framing  and  ordaining  of  the  rules  for 
the  government  of  his  hospital ;  and  ac- 
cordingly in  1627,  Dr.  Balcanquel,  "  after 
consulting  with  the  provosts,  baillies, 
ministers,  and  council  of  Edinburgh," 
compiled  the  statutes  by  which  the  insti- 
tution continues  to  be  governed.  By 
these  it  is  directed  that  "  this  institution, 
foundation,  and  hospital,  shall  for  all  time 
to  come,  perpetually  and  unchangeably 
be  called  by  the  name  of  George  Heriot 
his  Hospital,''  and  that  "there  shall  be 
one  common  seal  for  the  said  hospital 
engraven  with  this  device,  Siglllnru  Hos- 
pitalis  Georgii  Heriot,  about  the  circle, 
and  in  the  middle  the  pattern  of  the  hos- 
pital." 

And    "  because  no  bodv  can  be  well 


757 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  5. 


758 


governed  without  a  head,  there  shall 
be  one  of  good  respect  chosen  master  of 
the  hospital,  who  shall  have  power  to 
govern  all  the  scholars  and  officers  ;"  and 
therefore  the  governors  are  enjoined  to 
have  a  special  care,  "that  he  be  a  man 
fearing  God  ;  of  honest  life  and  conversa- 
tion ;  of  so  much  learning  as  he  be  fit  to 
teach  the  catechism ;  a  man  of  that  dis- 
cretion, as  he  may  be  fit  to  govern  and 
correct  all  that  live  within  the  house;  and 
a  man  of  that  care  and  providence,  that 
he  may  be  fit  to  take  the  accounts  of  the 
same  ;  a  man  of  that  worth  and  respect, 
as  he  may  be  fit  to  be  an  assessor  with 
the  governors,  having  a  suffrage  given 
unto  him  in  all  businesses  concerning  the 
hospital.  .  He  shall  be  an  unmarried  man, 
otherwise  let  him  be  altogether  uncapable 
of  being  master.  He  shall  have  yearly 
given  unto  him  a  new  gown.  Within  the 
precincts  of  the  hospital  he  shall  never 
go  without  his  gown :  in  the  hall  he  shall 
have  his  diet,  he  and  the  schoolmaster, 
in  the  upper  end,  at  a  little  table  by 
themselves." 

The  schoolmaster,  whose  duties  in 
teaching  are  already  expressed  by  the 
quality  of  the  learning  defined  to  the 
ooys,  also  "  must  be  unmarried." 

It  is  charged  on  the  consciences  of  the 
electors,  "  that  they  choose  no  burgess's 
children,  if  their  parents  be  well  and  suf- 
ficiently able  to  maintain  them,  since  the 
intention  of  the  founder  is  only  to  relieve 
the  poor ;  they  must  not  be  under  seven 
years  of  age  complete,  and  they  shall  not 
stay  in  the  hospital  after  they  are  of  the 
age  of  sixteen  years  complete  :  they  shall 
be  comely  and  decently  apparelled,  as 
becometh,  both  in  their  linens  and  clothes ; 
and  their  apparel  shall  be  of  sad  russet 
cloth,  doublets,  breeches,  and  stockings 
or  hose,  and  gowns  of  the  same  colour, 
with  black  hats  and  strings,  which  they 
shall  be  bound  to  wear  during  their  abode 
in  the  said  hospital,  and  no  other." 

Further,  it  is  provided,  that  "  there  shall 
be  a  pair  of  stocks  placed  at  the  end  of 
the  hall  in  the  hospital,  in  which  the 
master  shall  command  to  be  laid  any 
officer,  for  any  such  offences  as  in  his 
discretion  shall  seem  to  deserve  it ;  and 
the  master  likewise  shall  have  authority 
to  lay  in  the  same  stocks  any  vagrant 
stranger  of  mean  quality,  who,  within  the 
precincts  of  the  hospital,  shall  commit 
any  such  offence  as  may  deserve  it :  the 
officer  for  executing  the  master's  com- 
mand, in  this  point  of  justice,  shall  be 


the  porter  of  the  hospital."  The  porter 
is  to  be  "  a  man,  unmarried,  of  honest 
report — of  good  strength,  able  to  keep 
out  all  sturdy  beggars  and  vagrant  per- 
sons ; — he  shall  have  every  year  a  new 
gown,  which  he  must  wear  continually  at 
the  gate ;  and  if,  at  any  time,  he  dispose 
himself  to  marry,  he  shall  demit  his  place, 
or  else  be  deprived  of  the  same." 

The  last  of  many  officers  ordained  is 
"one  chirurgeon-barber,  who  shall  cut 
and  poll  the  hair  of  all  the  scholars  in 
the  hospital ;  as  also  look  to  the  cure  of 
all  those  within  the  hospital,  who  any 
way  shall  stand  in  need  of  his  art." 

These  extracts  are  rather  curious  than 
important;  for  it  is  presumed,  that  any 
who  are  interested  in  acquiring  further 
knowledge,  will  consult  the  statutes 
"  at  large."  They  are  set  forth  in 
"The  Life  of  George  Heriot,"  publish- 
ed at  Edinburgh  in  1822,  from  whence 
the  preceding  particulars  of  the  hospital 
and  its  founder  are  derived.  They  espe- 
cially provide  for  the  strict  religious  in- 
struction of  the  boys—"  while  in  the  hos- 
pital the  greatest  care  is  bestowed  on 
them  in  regard  to  morals  and  health  ; 
they  have  certain  hours  allowed  them 
daily  for  exercise;  and  their  amusements 
generally  partake  of  a  manly  character." 

It  may  be  quoted  as  an  amusing  inci- 
dent in  the-  annals  of  the  establishment, 
that  "  a  singular  occurrence  took  place 
with  the  boys  of  Heriot's  hospital  in 
1681-2,  the  year  in  which  the  earl  of 
Argyle  was  tried,  and  convicted  of  high 
treason,  for  refusing  the  test  oath  without 
certain  qualifications.  We  extract  the 
following  account  of  it  from  Lord  Foun- 
tainhiirs  Chronological  Notes  of  Scot- 
tish Affairs,  just  published  :  *  Argyle 
was  much  hated  for  oppressing  his  credi- 
tors, and  neither  paying  his  own  nor  fa- 
ther's debts,  but  lord  Halifax  told  Charles 
II.  he  understood  not  the  Scots  law,  but 
the  English  law  would  not  have  hanged 
a  dog  for  such  a  crime.'  Every  lawyer 
of  common  sense,  or  ordinary  conscience, 
will  be  of  the  same  opinion.  Lord  Cla- 
rendon, when  he  heard  the  sentence, 
blessed  God  that  he  lived  not  in  a  country 
where  there  were  such  laws,  but  he 
ought  to  have  said  such  judges.  The  very 
hospital  children  made  a  mockery  of  the 
reasoning  of  the  crown  lawyers.  The 
boys  of  Heriot's  hospital  resolved  among 
themselves,  that  the  house-dog  belonging 


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76C 


to  the  establishment  held  a  public  office, 
and  ought  to  take  the  test.  The  paper 
being  presented  to  the  mastiff,  he  refused 
to  swallow  the  same  unless  it  was  rubbed 
over  with  butter.  Being  a  second  time 
tendered,  buttered  as  above  mentioned, 
the  dog  swallowed  it,  and  was  next  ac- 
cused and  condemned,  for  having  taken 
the  test  with  a  qualification,  as  in  the  case 
of  Argyle !" 

THE  Doc  OF  HEIUOT'S  HOSPITAL. 

There  is  "An  Account  of  the  Ar- 
raignment, Tryal,  Escape,  and  Con- 
demnation of  the  DOG  of  Heriot's 
Hospital  in  Scotland,  that  was  supposed 
to  have  been  hang'd,  but  did  at  last  slip 
the  halter." 

From  this  exceedingly  rare  folio  paper 
of  two  pages,  "  Printed  for  the  author, 
M.  D.  1682,"  now  before  the  editor  of 
the  Every-Day  Book,  he  proceeds  to  ex- 
tract some  exponences  in  the  case  of  "the 
dog  of  Heriot's  hospital,"  by  which  "  the 
reasoning  of  the  crown  lawyers,"  in  the 
case  of  the  duke  of  Argyle,  was  success- 
fully ridiculed. 

Its  waggish  author  writes  in  the  man- 
ner of  a  letter,  "  to  show  you  that  the  act, 
whereby  all  publick  officers  are  obleadged 
to  take  the  Test  is  rigorously  put  in  exe- 
cution; and  therby  many  persons,  baith  in 
Kirk  and  State,  throughout  the  haill 
Kingdome,  by  reasone  they  are  not  free 
to  take  the  said  Test,  are  incontinently 
turned  out  of  their  places." 

He  then  relates  that  this  severity  occa- 
sioned "  the  loune  ladds  belonging  to  the 
hospittal  of  Hariot's  Buildings  in  Eden- 
brough,  to  divert  themselves  with  some- 
what like  the  following  tragi-commedy." 

He  proceeds  to  state,  that  they 
"  fell  intil  a  debate  amongist  themselves, 
whither  or  no,  ane  raastiffe  Tyke,  who 
keept  the  outmost  gate,  might  not,  by 
reasone  of  his  office  of  trust,  come  within 
the  compass  of  the  act,  and  swa,  be  ob- 
leftdged  to  take  the  Test,  or  be  turned  out 
of  his  place." 

In  conclusion,  "  the  tyke  thereupon 
was  called,  and  interrogat,  whither  he 
wold  take  the  test,  or  run  the  hazard  of 
forfaulting  his  office.'' 

Though  propounded  again  and  again, 
"  the  silly  curr,  boding  no  ill,  answered 
all  their  queries  with  silence,  whilk  had 
been  registrat  as  a  flat  refusal,  had  not  on 
cf  the  lounes,  mair  bald  then  the  rest, 
taken  upon  him  to  be  his  advocat,  who 


standing  up,  pleaded  that  silence  might 
as  wel  be  interpreted  assent,  as  refusal, 
and  therupon  insisted  that  it  might  be 
tendered  to  him  in  a  way  maist  plausible, 
and  in  a  poustar  maist  agreeable  to  his 
stomack." 

The  debate  lasted  till  all  agreed  "  that 
ane  printed  copy  should  be  thrumbled,  of 
as  little  boulke  as  it  could,  and  therafter 
smured  over  with  tallow,  butter,  or  what 
else  might  make  maist  tempting  to  his 
appetit :  this  done  he  readily  took  it, 
and  after  he  had  made  a  shift,  by  rowing 
it  up  and  down  his  mouth,  to  separat 
what  was  pleasant  to  his  pallat,  and  when 
all  seemed  to  be  over,  on  a  sudden  they 
observed  somehat  (ilke  piece  after  another) 
droped  out  of  his  mouth,  qwhilk  the  advo- 
cats  on  the  other  side  said  was  the  test, 
and  that  all  his  irksome  champing  and 
chowing  of  it,  was  only,  if  possible,  to  se- 
perat  the  concomitant  nutriment,  and  that 
this  was  mikel  worse  then  an  flat  refusal, 
and  gif  it  were  rightly  examined,  would, 
upon  Tryal,  be  found  no  less  then  Lei- 
sing-making." 

The  tyke's  advocate  "  opponed,  that 
his  enemies  having  the  rowing  of  it  up, 
might  perhaps  (through  deadly  spite)  have 
put  some  crooked  prin  intil  it ;  and  that 
all  the  fumbling  and  rowing  of  it  up  and 
down  his  mouth,  might  be  by  reason  of 
the  prin,  and  not  through  any  scunnering 
at  the  test  itself;  and  that  there  was 
nought  in  the  hail  matter,  that  looked 
like  Leising-making,  except  by  interpre- 
tation, and  his  adversaries  allowed  to  be 
the  only  interpreters."  Finally,  he  re- 
quired that  his  client  should  have  a  fair 
trial  before  competent  judges,  "  qwhilk 
was  unanimously  granted  ;''  and  on  the 
trial  "  ther  fell  out  warm  pleading." 

The  advocates  against  the  tyke  set 
forth,  "  that  he  was  ou'r  malapert,  to  take 
so  mikel  upon  him;  and  that  the  cham- 
ing  and  cherking  of  the  test  belonged 
nought  to  him,  nor  to  none  like  him,  who 
served  only  in  inferior  offices  ;  that  his 
trust  and  pov/er  reached  nought  so  far, 
and  by  what  he  had  done,  he  had  made 
himself  guilty  of  mair  nor  abase  refusal  as 
was  libelled." 

Those  who  defended  the  tyke,  pleaded 
"  that  he  could  be  guilty  of  nather,  since 
he  had  freely  taken  it  in  his  mouth,  will- 
ing to  have  swallowed  it  down  ;  and  that 
ther  was  no  fault  in  him,  but  in  its  self, 
that  it  passed  not ;  since  it  fell  a  sqwabe- 
ling,  one  part  of  it  hindering  another :" 
that  if  it  would  "  have  agreed  in  its  self 


761 


THE  EVERY-DA     BOOK.— JUNE  5. 


762 


to  have  gone  down  all  one  way,  he  wold 
blaithly  swallowed  it,  as  he  had  done 
many  untouthsome  morsel  before,  as  was 
well  known  to  all  the  court." 

To  this  was  answered,  that  "all  his 
former  good  service  could  not  excuse  his 
present  guilt." 

"Guilt!"  quoth"  another,  "if  that  be 
guilt  he  hath  many  marrows,  and  why 
should  he  be  worse  handled  than  all  the 
rest?" 

Notwithstanding  what  was  urged  in 
the  tyke's  behalf,  the  jury  found  he  had  so 
mangled  the  test,  and  abused  it,  that  it  was 
"interpretative  treason,"  and  found  him 
"  guilty  of  Leising-making  :"  wherefore 
he  was  ordered  to  close  prison  till  he 
should  be  again  called  forth  and  receive 
sentence  "to  be  hanged  like  a  dog." 

While  he  was  removing  from  the  court, 
there  chanced  "  a  curate"  to  be  present, 
and  ask,  "  what  was  the  matter,  what  ailed 
them  at  the  dog  ?"  whereto  one  answered, 
"that  he,  being  in  publick  trust,  was 
required  to  take  the  test,  and  had  both  re- 
fused it  and  abused  it,  whereupon  he  was 
to  be  hanged  ;"  whereat  the  curate,  storm- 
ing, said,  "  They  deserved  all  to  be  hang- 
ed for  such  presumptuous  mockery ;"  but 
the  boys,  laughing  aloud,  cried  with  one 
consent,  that  "  he,  and  his  brethren,  de- 
served better  to  be  hanged  than  any  of 
them,  or  the  tyke  eather,  since  they  had 
swallowed  that  which  the  tyke  refused." 

The  verdict  created  no  small  dissen- 
sion ;  "  some  suspected  deadly  fewd  in 
the  chanselor  of  the  jury,  alleadging  that 
ane  enemy  was  not  fit  to  be  a  judg;  this 
was  answered,  that  he  was  of  more  noble 
extract  then  to  stain  his  honor  with  so 
base  an  act,  and  that  his  own  reputation 
wold  make  him  favored  ;  another  object- 
ed that  a  tyke's  refusing  so  good  a  test, 
might  be  ill  example  to  creatures  of  better 
reason ;  to  this  a  pakie  loun  answered, 
that  it  could  not  be  good,  since  Lyon 
Rampant,  King  of  Tykes,,  nor  none  of  his 
royal  kin,  word  not  so  much  as  lay  ther 
lips,  to  it  far  less  to  swallow  it,  and  there- 
fore  " 

Here  the  speaker  was  interrupted  "  by 
one  that  was  a  principal  limmer  among 
them  (a  contradiction  reconciler)  who 
would  needs  help  him  with  a  logical  dis- 
tinction, wherby  he,  like  an  Aberdeen's 
man,  might  cant  and  recant  again." 

There  were  other  conjectures,  "requiring 
the  judgment  of  the  learned  to  determine 
which  has  been  maist  suitable :"  e.  g. 

One  fancied,  that  "  the  tyke  might  take 


the  test  secundum  quid,  though  not  simpli- 
citer  ;" 

Another,  that  he  might  take  it  "  in 
sensu  diviso,  though  not  in  sensu  com- 
posito  ;" 

A  third,  that  "  though  it  was  deadly  to 
take  it  with  verbal  interpretatione,  yet  it 
might  be  taken  safe  enough  with  mental 
reservations ;" 

A  fourth  thought,  that  « though  his 
stomach  did  stand  at  it,  in  sensu  univoco, 
yet  it  might  easily  digest  it  in  sensu  et 
aquivoco  ;" 

In  this  manner  suppositions  multiplied, 
and  to  one  who  proposed  a  "  Jesuitical n 
distinction,  it  was  answered,  that  «'  the 
tyke  would  neither  sup  kail  with  the 
div'l,  nor  the  pope,  and  therefore  needed 
not  his  long  spoon  ;  well,  said  ane  other, 
this  is  mair  nor  needs,  since  we  are  all 
sure  that  the  tyke  could  not  have  kept  his 
office  so  long,  but  he  most  needs  have 
swallowed  many  a  buttered  bur  before 
this  time,  and  it  was  but  gaping  a  little 
wider  and  the  hazard  was  over." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  his  neighbour,  "  the 
hazard  was  greater  than  ye  imagine,  for 
the  test,  as  it  was  rowed  up,  had  many 
plyes  and  implications  in  it,  one  contrary 
to  another ;  and  swa  the  tyke  might  been 
querkened  ere  it  had  been  all  over,  ilk 
ply,  as  it  were,  rancountering  another, 
wresling  and  fighting." 

Then  it  was  proposed,  as  the  tyke  had 
actually  swallowed  the  better  part,  if  not. 
the  whole  test,  that  though  he  had 
brought  it  up  again,  yet  it  were  better  to 
try  if  he  would  swallow  it  again ;  "  but 
this  project  was  universally  rejected, 
baith  by  the  maist  charitable,  as  bootless, 
and  by  the  mair  severe,  or  too  great  a 
favor." 

As  regarded  the  condemned  tyke, 
"  matters  being  thus  precipitat,  and  all 
hopes  of  reprieve  uncertain,  a  wylie  loun 
advised  him  to  lay  by  the  sheep's  (which 
had  done  him  so  little  good)  and  put  on 
the  fox's  skin  ;"  wherefore,  like  a  sensible 
dog,  "  hiding  his  own  tail  between  his 
legs,  and  griping  another's  train,  he 
passed  through  all  the  gates  undiscovered 
and  swa  was  missing  : — 

( Thus  he  was  forc'd  when  light  did  fail, 
To  give  them  the  flap  with  a  fox's  tail/'  " 

What  became  of  him  was  unknown, 
and  "  the  news  of  the  tyke's  escape  being 
blazed  abroad,  the  court  assembleth  to 
consult  what  was  then  anent  to  be 
done." 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  5. 


764 


By  one  it  was  said  that  "  the  affronting 
escape,  and  other  misdemeaners  of  that 
tyke  were  so  great,  that  the  highest 
severity  was  too  little  ;" 

Another  said,  "  sine  he  is  gone,  let 
him  go,  what  have  we  more  to  do,  but 
put  another  in  his  place  ;" 

A  third  said,  "  his  presumptuous  and 
treasonable  carriage,  would  be  of  ill  ex- 
ample to  others,  unless  due  punishment 
followed  thereupon  ;" 

A  fourth  said,  "  had  he  not  been  con- 
fident of  his  own  innocency  he  wold 
never  have  byden  a  tryal,  and  since  he 
met  with  such  a  surprising  verdict,  what 
could  he  do  less  than  flee  for  his  life  ? 
wold  not  the  best  in  the  court,  if  he  had 
been  in  his  circumstances  done  the  like  ?" 

A  fifth  said,  "if  he  had  been  con- 
demned, and  hanged  in  time,  he  had  not 
played  us  this  prank,  but  seeing  we  have 
missed  himself,  let  us  seaze  well  on  what 
he  hath  left  behind  him." 

Then  further  debate  ensued,  and, 
thereupon,  the  conclusion;  which  was 
ordered  to  be  published  as  follows : — 

^proclamation, 

«"¥TfTHEREAS  one  cutt  lugged,  broun- 
T  T  ish  coloured  Mastiff  Tyke,  called 
Watch,  short  leged,  and  of  low 
stature;  who  being  in  Office  of 
Public  Trust,  was  required  to  take 
the  Test,  and  when  it  was  lawfully 
tendered  to  him,  he  so  abused  it,  and 
mangled  it  ;  whereupon  he,  after  due 
Tryal  for  his  presumption,  was  con- 
vict of  Treason,  and  sincesyn  haih 
broken  Prison,  whereupon  the  Court 
adjudges  him,  To  be  hanged  like  a 
Dog,  whenever  he  shall  be  appre- 
hended;  and  in  the  mean  time  de- 
clares his  Office,  his  hail  Estat  heir- 
atable  and  moveable,  and  all  causual- 
ties  belonging  to  him,  to  be  echeated 
and  forfaulted,  and  ordeans  the 
colectors  of  the  Court  to  uplift  his 
Rents  and  Causualties,  and  to  be 
countable  to  the  Court,  both  for  dili- 
gence and  intermission,  and  also  dis- 
charges all  persons  to  reset  or  harb- 
or the  Fugitive  Trator,  and  like- 
ways,  gives  assurance  to  all  persons, 
who  shall  either  apprehend  him,  or 
give  true  information  of  him,  swa 
that  thereupon  he  bees  apprehended, 
the  person  swa  doing,  shall  have 
500/.  for  his  pains.  Given  at  our 
Court,  &c." 


A  Remark. 


A  great  deal  of  the  ingenious  argu, 
ment  in  this  extremely  scarce  witticism, 
was  probably  adduced  by  the  "  Heriot's 
boys,"  when  they  indulged  in  the  practical 
humour  of  administering  the  test  to  the 
hospital  dog  as  an  "  office  bearer."  In- 
dependent of  its  ability,  and  because  the 
editor  of  these  sheets  does  not  remember 
to  have  met  with  it  in  any  collection  of 
papers  on  public  affairs,  he  has  rather 
largely  extracted  from  it,  hoping  that,  as  it 
is  thus  recorded,  it  will  not  be  altogether 
misplaced.  Of  course,  every  reader  may 
not  view  it  in  that  light;  but  there  are 
some  who  know,  that  such  materials  fre- 
quently assist  the  historian  to  the  proof 
of  questionable  facts,  and  that  they  are 
often  a  clue  to  very  interesting  dis- 
coveries :  by  such  readers,  apology  will 
not  be  required  for  the  production. 


It  has  been  said  of  George  Heriot,  that 
"  his  vanity  exceeded  his  charity."*  But 
an  assertion  justly  urged  respecting  many 
founders  who  sought  posthumous  noto- 
riety by  sordid  disregard  to  the  welfare 
of  surviving  relatives,  cannot  be  applied 
to  George  Heriot.  It  was  not  until  he 
had  bestowed  ample  largesses  on  his  kins- 
folk, that  he  munificently  endowed  his 
native  town  with  a  provision  for  rearing 
the  children  of  its  citizens.  To  stay  the 
fame  of  the  deed,  was  not  in  the  power  of 
the  hand  that  bestowed  the  gift;  and 
when  the  magistrates  of  Edinburgh 
honour  Heriot's  memory,  they  incite 
others  to  emulate  his  virtue.  Their  pre- 
decessors received  his  donation  with  a 
spirit  and  views  correspondent  to  those 
of  the  donor :  as  faithful  stewards  they 
husbanded  his  money,  and  laid  it  out  to 
so  great  advantage,  that  when  the  hospital 
was  completed,  though  the  building  alone 
cost  more  than*  the  amount  of  Heriot's 
bequest,  the  fund  had  accumulated  to 
defray  the  charges,  and  leave  a  consider- 
able surplus  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
inmates ;  with  a  prospect,  which  time  has 
realized,  of  further  increase  from  the 
increasing  value  of  the  land  they  pur- 
chased and  annexed  to  the  foundation  as 
its  property  for  ever.  It  did  not  escape  the 
penetration  of  Heriot's  mind,  and,  in 


*  In    a  communication    descriptive   of   Edin- 
tugh,  in  the  Gent.  Mag.  for  1743,  p.  C8G. 


765 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  5. 


766 


fact,  he  must  naturally  have  taken  into 
account,  that  such  an  institution  in  the 
metropolis  of  Scotland  would  derive  con- 
tributions from  other  sources,  and  flourish, 
as  it  yet  flourishes,  a  treasure-house  of 
charity. 

The  prudent  and  calculating  foresight 
by  which  Heriot  rendered  his  fortune 
splendid,  was  exercised  in  deliberating  the 
management  of  the  inmates  on  his  pro- 
jected establishment.  He  had  the  wisdom 
to  distrust  the  quality  of  his  judgment  on 
matters  wherein  his  observation  and 
knowledge  were  necessarily  limited,  and 
committed  the  drawing  up  of  the  statutes 
to  his  friend  Dr.  Balcanquel.  There  is  no 
evidence  to  what  extent  the  founder  him- 
self had  any  share  in  these  rules  for 
effectuating  his  intentions ;  but  when  the 
age  wherein  they  were  compiled  is  re- 
garded, it  will  scarcely  be  alleged  that 
he  could  have  elected  from  his  friends,  a 
better  executor  of  the  best  of  his  good 
wishes. 

The  acquisition  of  such  experience 
as  Dr.  BalcanqueFs,  in  his  capacity  of 
master  of  the  Savoy,  is  strong  testimony 
of  Heriot's  discrimination  and  manly 
sense.  The  statutes  of  Dr.  Balcanquel, 
who  had  assisted  at  the  synod  of  Dort, 
and  was  successively  dean  of  Westminster 
and  Durham,  are  free  from  the  overlegis- 
lating  disposition  of  his  times,  which 
while  it  sought  to  distinguish,  confused  the 
execution  of  purposes.  To  the  liberal 
laws,  and  the  liberal  spirit  wherein  they 
have  been  interpreted,  some  of  the  most 
highly-gifted  natives  of  Edinburgh  owe 
the  cultivation  of  their  talents. 

Each  of  the  windows  of  Heriot's  hos- 
pital is  remarkable  for  being  ornamented 
in  a  different  manner,  with  the  exception 
of  two  on  the  west  side  whereon  the 
carvings  exactly  agree.  The  north  gate 
is  adorned  with  wreathed  columns,  and 
devices  representing  the  modes  of  work- 
ing in  the  business  of  a  jeweller  and 
goldsmith.* 

Heriot's  boys,  with  a  daring  which 
seems  to  require  some  check,  on  account 
of  its  risk,  and  the  injury  it.  must  neces- 
sarily occasion  in  the  course  of  time,  have 
a  practice  of  climbing  this  front  by  grasp- 
ing the  carvings.  The  insecurity  of  this 
progress  to  a  fearful  eminence,  has  sur- 
prised and  alarmed  many  a  spectator 
"  frae  the  south." 

•  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


Inscriptions  of  various  benefactions  are 
placed  in  the  council-room.    There  is  one 
which  records   the  liberality  of  a  well- 
known  gentleman,  viz. 
1804 

Dr.  John  Gilchrist, 

se\  eral  Years  Professor  of 

the  Hindostanee  Language  in  the 

College  of  Fort  William,  BengaZ , 

'presented  100?.  sterling 

to  this  Hospital, 
as  a  small  testimony 

of  Gratitude  for 

his  Education  in  so 

valuable  a  Seminary. 

There  are  several  engravings  of  his 
portrait.  One  of  them  by  J.  Moffat, 
Edinburgh,  engraved  in  1 820,  after  a  pic- 
ture by  Scougal,  in  the  council-room  of 
the  edifice,  is  inscribed  "  GEORGE  HERIOT, 
Jeweller  to  King  James  VI.,  who,  besides 
founding  and  endowing  his  stately  hos- 
pital at  Edinburgh,  bequeathed  to  his 
relations  above  60,000*.  sterling.  Obiit. 
1623.  ^Etatis  Anno  63."  His  arms  on 
this  print  are  surmounted  by  the  motto, 
"  I  distribute  cheerfully." 

In  the  "Fortunes  of  Nigel,"  by  the 
author  of  "  Waverely,"  "Heriot  is  intro- 
duced, with  a  minute  description  of  his 
dress  and  person,  seemingly  derived  from 
real  data,  whereas  there  is  little  other  au- 
thority for  such  markings,  than  the  ima- 
gination of  the  well  -  known  "  Great 
Unknown." 


The  striking  magnificence  of  Heriot's 
hospital  is  recorded  by  an  expression  of 
too  great  force  to  be  strictly  accurate. 
It  was  observed  by  a  foreigner,  before  the 
palace  of  Holy  rood-house  was  built  by 
CharlesTl.,  that  there  was  at  Edinburgh 
a  palace  for  beggars,  and  a  dungeon  for 
kings.* 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  fifth  of  June,  1826,  Carl 
Maria  Von  Weber,  the  eminent  musical 
composer,  died  in  London,  of  a  long 
standing  pulmonary  affection,  increased 
probably  by  the  untowardness  of  our 
climate.  He  gave  a  concert  ten  days 
before,  wherein  he  composed  an  air, 

*  Gen*ieman's  Magazine. 


767 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  6 


and  accompanied  Miss  Stephens  on  the 
pianoforte,  to  the  following 

SONG. 
From  Lalla  Rookh. 

From  Chinclara's  warbling  fount  I  come, 
CalPd  by  that  moonlight  garland's  spell  ; 
From  Chindara's  fount,  my  fairy  home, 
Where  in  music,  morn  and  night,  I  dwell. 
Where  lutes  in  the  air  are  heard  about, 
And  voices  are  singing  the  whole  day  long, 
And  every  sigh  the  heart  breathes  out 
Is  turn'd,  as  it  leaves  the  lips,  to  song  ! 

Hither  I  come 

From  my  fairy  home, 
And  if  there's  a  magic  in  Music's  train, 

I  swear  by  the  breath 

Of  that  moonlight  wreath. 
Thy  lover  shall  sigh  at  thy  feet  again. 

For  mine  is  the  lay  that  lightly  floats, 
And  mine  are  the  murmuring,  dying  notes, 
That  fall  as  soft  as  snow  on  the  sea, 
And  melt  in  the  heart  as  instantly  ! 
And  the  passionate  strain  that,  deeply  going, 
Refines  the  bosom  it  trembles  through, 
As  the  musk-wind  over  the  waters  blowing, 
Ruffles  the  waves,  but  sweetens  it  too ! 

So,  hither  I  come 

From  my  fairy  home, 
And  if  there's  a  magic  in  Music's  strain, 

I  swear  by  the  breath 

Of  that  moonlight  wreath, 
Thy  lover  shall  sigh  at  thy  feet  again. 

These  words  seem  to  have  been  kin- 
dred to  Von  Weber's  feelings.  His  last 
opera  was  "  Oberon  :"  its  performance  at 
Covent  -  garden  derives  increased  in- 
terest from  his  premature  decease.  Mr. 
Planche  adapted  it  for  our  stage,  and 
published  it  as  represented  and  superin- 
tended by  its  illustrious  composer.  There 
are  two  genuine  editions  of  this  drama, 
one  in  octavo,  at  the  usual  price,  and  the 
other  in  a  pocket  size,  at  a  shilling,  with 
an  excellent  portrait  of  Von  Weber. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  57    72. 


6. 


IMPORTANT  TO  ANGLERS. 
To  the  Editor. 

The  Every-Day  Book  has  presented  a 
.hore  striking  view  of  the  changes  of  man- 
ners and  customs  than  any  book  which 
has  gone  before  it  ;  yet  even  the  editor 
himself,  I  think,  never  dreamed  of  this 


revolution  of  habits  extending  from  the 
walkers  on  the  earth  to  the  inhabitants  01 
"  the  waters  whiclvare  under  the  earth." 

How  little  do  men  dream,  when  they 
are  advocating  the  cause  of  any  class  of 
people,  in  what  manner  those  very  peo- 
ple shall  repay  their  services.  Poor  Izaak 
Walton  !  He  cried  up  anglers  as  the  verj 
perfection  of  human  nature.  They  wen! 
the  most  meek,  loving,  and  patient  of 
God's  creatures.  They  were  too  much 
imbued  with  nature's  tranquillizing  spirit 
to  be  ambitious ;  too  excellent  Christians 
to  be  jealous  ;  and  all  this,  good,  simple- 
hearted  fellow  as  he  was,  because  he  was 
such  a  man  himself.  I  have  naturally 
great  faith  in  the  influence  of  nature,  and, 
therefore,  though  I  never  could  resist  a 
smile  at  Izaak's  zealous  eulogies  on  the 
art  —  calling  all  times,  people,  and 
places,  to  do  honour  to  it;  pressing  kings, 
prophets,  apostles,  and  even  Jesus  Christ 
himself,  into  the  ranks  of  his  admired  an- 
glers— yet,  I  involuntarily  permitted  his 
warm  and  open-hearted  eloquence  to 
more  than  half  persuade  me  of  the  supe- 
rior natures  of  his  piscatorial  protegees  j 
in  short,  that  they  were  such  men  as  him- 
self. 

In  one  of  my  summer  rambles  through 
the  peak  of  Derbyshire  I  entered  Dove- 
dale.  It  was  in  June,  and  on  one  of  the 
most  delightful  evenings  of  that  delightful 
month.  There  had  been  rain  in  the  day, 
and  the  calm  splendour  of  the  declining 
sun  fell  upon  a  scene  not  more  fantasti- 
cally sublime  in  its  features,  than  it  was 
beautiful  in  its  freshness.  The  air  was 
deliciously  cool,  balmy,  and  saturated 
with  the  odour  of  flowers.  The  deep 
grass  in  the  bottom  of  the  valley  was 
heavy  with  its  luxuriance.  The  shrubs 
waved  and  sparkled,  with  their  myriad 
drops,  upon  lofty  crags  and  stern  preci- 
pices ;  and  the  Dove,  that  most  beautiful 
of  swift  and  translucent  streams,  went 
sounding  on  its  way  with  a  voice  of 
gladness  in  full  accordance  with  every 
thing  around  it.  I  have  seen  it  many 
times, — and  the  finest  scenes,  often  seen, 
are  apt  to  lose  some  of  their  effect, — yet 
I  never  felt  more  completely  the  whole 
fascination  of  the  place.  It  put  me,  as 
such  things  are  apt  to  do,  into  a  ruminat- 
ing and  poetical  mood, — a  humour  to  so- 
liloquize and  admire,  and  to  see  things 
perhaps  a  little  more  fancifully  than  an 
etymologist,  or  a  mathematician  might. 

It  was  exactly   when  that  species  of 
ephemera,   the   drake -fly,    the   glory   of 


769 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  6. 


770 


ti  outs  and  of  trout-takers,  was  in  season. 
They  were  fluttering  by  thousands  over 
the  stream,  and  dropping  every  moment 
into  it,  where  many  a  luxuriating  mouth 
was  ready  to  receive  them.  The  an- 
glers were  half  as  numerous  as  they ; 
from  the  bottom  of  Dove-dale  to  Ber- 
resford  Hall,  the  whilom  residence 
of  Cotton,  and  the  resort  of  Walton, 
scarcely  a  hundred  yards  but  "  main- 
tained its  man."  I  pleased  myself  with 
fancying  I  saw  amongst  them  many  a 
face  which  belonged  to  a  disciple  of 
Izaak  worthy  of  the  master  and  the  art, 
and,  had  I  not  entered  into  talk  with 
them,  I  might  have  thought  so  now. 

But,  1  asked  one  if  there  was  not 
once  a  very  famous  angler,  who  fre- 
quented the  Dove.  "  Oh  aye !"  said  he, 
"  I  know  whom  you  mean;  you  mean 
old  Dennel  Hastings.  For  fishing  and 
shuting  he  was  the  cob  of  all  this  coun- 
try!" Alas!  poor  Izaak!  I  thought; 
but  I  glanced  at  the  man's  fish-basket 
as  1  passed.  It  was  empty,  and  I  set 
him  dow  n  as  a  fellow  not  more  ignorant 
of  Izaak  than  of  the  patient  mystery. 
But  soon  after,  I  cast  my  eye  upon  an 
old  and  venerable  figure.  His  basket 
was  stored  with  beautiful  trouts,  till  the 
lid  would  not  shut  down.  His  grey  hair 
clustered  thick  and  bushily  beneath  his 
well-worn  hat,  as  if  it  was  accustomed 
to  grow  in  the  sun  and  the  breeze,  and 
to  be  "  wet  with  the  dews  of  heaven." 
His  features  were  such  as  the  father  of 
anglers  himself  might  have  worn, — 
good;  and  apparently  accustomed  to 
express  a  mixed  spirit  of  bonhommie 
and  simplicity,  but  were  then  sharpened 
into  the  deepest  intensity  of  an  angler's 
vigilant  enjoyment.  This,  thought  I, 
is  surely  the  man,  and  I  asked  him  if  he 
had  read  "  Walton's  Complete  Angler." 
Yes,  he  had  it,  and  he  had  Major's  new 
edition,  too:  and, turning  to  me  with  an 
air  of  immense  knowingness  and  im- 
portance, said — *'  If  he  was  alive  now 
he  could  not  take  a  single  fin."  "  No," 
1  replied,  «  how  is  that?  He  could  take 
plenty  in  his  day  ;  and  though  I  do  not 
deny  that  there  may  have  been  great 
improvement  in  the  art,  yet,  skill  then 
successful  would  be  equally  so  now,  un- 
less there  has  been  a  revolution  amongst 
the  fish,  arid  they  have  grown  wiser. 
"Ay,  there  you  have  it,"  he  added, 
-he  fish,  are  wiser:  they  wont  take  the 
s;ime  baits."  I  instinctively  glanced  at 
the  bait  then  upon  the  hook  of  my 

VOL.  TI.— 77. 


oracle,  and — heaven  and  earth !  it  was 
Walton's  favourite  bait— the  drake-fly  ' 
I  walked  on.  The  romance  of  angling 
was  destroyed.  The  glory,  like  a  morn- 
ing dream,  had  passed  away  from  the 
whole  piscatorial  race;  and,  from  es- 
teeming an  angler  after  the  fashion  of 
Izaak  Walton,  I  fell  into  great  tempta- 
tion of  deeming  him  something  worse 
than,  asexhibited  in  Swift's  definition, 
'*  a  stick  and  a  string,  a  worm  at  one 
end  and  a  fool  at  the  other." 

Nottingham.  W.  H. 


Now,  as  the  sun  declines,  may  be 
seen,  emerging  from  the  surface  of  shal- 
low streams,  and  lying  there  for  a  while 
till  its  wings  are  dried  for  flight,  the 
(misnamed)  May-fly.  Escaping,  after 
a  protracted  struggle  of  half  a  minute, 
from  its  watery  birth  place,  it  flutters 
restlessly  up  and  down,  up  and  down, 
over  the  same  spot,  during  its  whole  era 
of  a  summer  evening;  and  at  last  dies, 
as  the  last  dying  streaks  of  day  are  leav- 
ing the  western  horizon.  And  yet,  who 
shall  say  that  in  that  space  of  time  it  has 
not  undergone  all  the  vicissitudes  of  a 
long  and  eventful  life?  That  it  has  not 
felt  all  the  freshness  of  youth,  all  the 
vigour  of  maturity,  all  the  weakness  and 
satiety  of  old  age,  and  all  the  pangs  of 
death  itself?  In  short,  who  shall  satisfy 
u*  that  any  essential  difference  exists 
between  its  four  hours  and  our  fourscore 
years  *  ? 

To  THE  MAY  FLY. 

Thou  art  a  frail  and  lovely  thing1, 

Engender'd  by  the  sun  : 
A  moment  only  on  the  wing, 

And  thy  career  is  done. 
Thou  sportest  in  the  evening  beam 

An  hour — an  age  to  thee — 
In  gaiety  above  the  stream, 

Which  soon  thy  grave  must  be 
Although  thy  life  is  like  to  thee 

An  atom — art  thou  not 
Far  happier  than  thou  e'er  couldst  be 

If  long  life  were  thy  lot  ? 
For  then  deep  pangs  might  wound  thy  breas 

And  make  thee  wish  for  death  ; 
But  as  it  is  thou'rt  soon  at  rest 

Thou  creature  of  a  breath  ! 
And  man's  life  passeth  thus  away, 

A  thing  of  joy  and  sorrow — 
The  earth  he  treads  upon  to-day 

Shall  cover  him  to-morrow. 

Barton  Wilford. 
*  Mirror  of  the  Months. 


771 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  7. 


772 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  57  •  45. 


7. 


CHABERT. 

The  Human  Salamander. 
This  exhibitor's  public  performances 
in  London,  seem  to  have  excited  great 
curiosity  in  a  multitude  of  persons  un- 
acquainted with  the  natural  quality  of 
*Jie  human  body  to  endure  extraordi- 
nary heat.  The  journals  teem  with  asto- 
nishing accounts  —  people  wonder  as  they 
read  —  and,  by  and  by,  they  will  "  wonder 
at  their  own  wonder."  Perhaps  the  most 
interesting  account  of  his  first  appearance 
is  the  following  :  — 

HOT  !  HOT  !  -  ALL  HOT  ! 

Monsieur  Chabert  (the  celebrated  con- 
tinental salamander)  exhibited  his  power 
in  withstanding  the  operation  of  the 
fiery  element,  at  White  Conduit  Gar- 
dens, yesterday  evening  (June  7,  1826). 
In  the  first  instance,  he  refreshed  him- 
self with  a  hearty  meal  of  phosphorus, 
which  was,  at  his  own  request,  supplied 
to  him  very  liberally,  by  several  of  his 
visiters,  who  were  previously  unacquaint- 
ed with  him.  He  washed  down  this  in- 
fernal fare  with  solutions  of  arsenic  and 
oxalic  acid,  thus  throwing  into  the  back- 
ground the  long-established  fame  of  Mith- 
ridates.  He  next  swallowed  with  great 
gotit  several  spoonsful  of  boiling  oil, 
and,  as  a  desert  to  this  delicate  repast, 
helped  himself  with  his  naked  hand  to 
a  considerable  quantity  of  molten  lead. 
There  are,  we  know,  preparations  which 
so  indurate  the  cuticle  as  to  render  it 
insensible  to  the  heat  either  of  boiling 
oil  or  melting  lead,  and  the  fatal  qua- 
lities of  certain  poisons  may  be  de- 
stroyed, if  the  medium  through  which 
they  are  imbibed,  as  we  suppose  to  be 
the  case  here,  is  a  strong  alkali.  We 
cannot,  however,  guess  in  what  manner 
Monsieur  Chabert  effected  this  neutral- 
ization ;  and  it  is  but  fair  to  state,  that 
the  exhibitor  offered  to  swallow  Prussic 
acid,  perhaps  the  most  powerful  of  known 
poisons,  the  effect  of  which  is  instan- 
taneous, if  any  good-natured  person 
could  furnish  him  with  a  quantity  of  it. 
During  the  period  when  this  part  of 
the  entertainment  (if  entertainment  it 
can  be  called)  was  going  on,  an  oven, 
bout  six  feet  by  seven,  was  heated. 


For  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  large  quanti- 
ties of  faggots  were  burnt  in  it,  until 
at  length  it  was  hot  enoup-h  for  the  bed- 
chamber of  his  Satanic  Majesty.  "  O 
for  a  muse  of  fire .'  "  to  describe  what 
followed.  Monsieur  Chabert,  who  seems 
to  be  a  piece  of  living  asbestos,  enter- 
ed this  stove,  accompanied  by.  a  rump- 
steak  and  a  leg  of  lamb,  when  the  heat 
was  at  about  220.  He  remained  there, 
in  the  first  instance,  for  ten  minutes, 
till-  the  steak  was  properly  done,  con- 
versing all  the  time  with  the  company 
through  a  tin  tube,  placed  in  an  orifice 
formed  in  the  sheet-iron  door  of  the 
oven.  Having  swallowed  a  cup  of  tea, 
and  having  seen  that  the  company  had 
done  justice  to  the  meat  he  had  already 
cooked,  he  returned  to  his  fiery  den, 
and  continued  there  until  the  lamb  was 
properly  done.  This  joint  was  devoured 
with  such  avidity  by  the  spectators,  as 
leads  us  to  believe,  that  had  Monsieur 
Chabert  himself  been  sufficiently  baked, 
they  would  have  proceeded  to  a  Carib- 
bean banquet.  Many  experiments,  as 
to  the  extent  to  which  the  human  frame 
could  bear  heat,  without  the  destruction 
of  the  vital  powers,  have  been  tried  from 
time  to  time;  but  so  far  as  we  recollect, 
Monsieur  Chabert's  fire-resisting  qualities 
are  greater  than  those  professed  by  the 
individuals  who,  before  him,  have  under- 
gone this  species  of  ordeal.  It  was  an- 
nounced some  time  ago,  in  one  of  the 
French  journals,  that  experiments  had 
been  tried  with  a  female,  whose  fire- 
standing  qualities  had  excited  great  as- 
tonishment. She,  it  appears,  was  placed 
in  a  heated  oven,  into  which,  live  dogs, 
cats,  and  rabbits,  were  conveyed.  The 
poor  animals  died,  in  a  state  of  convul- 
sion, almost  immediately,  while  the  fire 
queen  bore  the  heat  without  complaining. 
In  that  instance,  however,  the  heat  of  the 
oven  was  not  so  great  as  that  which 
Monsieur  Chabert  encountered.  If  Mon- 
sieur Chabert  will  attach  himself  to  any 
of  the  insurance  companies,  he  will,  we 
have  no  doubt,  "  save  more  goods  out  of 
the  fire"  than  ever  Nimming  Ned  did.* 

As  regards  the  taking  of  poisons  by 
this  person,  the  "  Morning  Chronicle  "  ac- 
count says,  "  Monsieur  Chabert's  first 
performance  was  the  swallowing  a  quan- 
tity of  phosphorus,  which,  we  need  not 

*  The  Times,  June  8,  1826. 


73 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK—JUNE  7. 


774 


inform  our  readers,  is  one  of  the  most, 
violent  poisons.  Happening  to  stand 
near  the  exhibitor's  table,  he  invited  us 
to  weigh  out  the  phosphorus,  and  taste 
the  pure  water  with  which  he  washed 
down  the  aconite.  We  accordingly  ad- 
ministered to  the  gentleman  a  dose  of 
sixty-four  grains,  enough,  we  imagine, 
to  have  proved  a  quietus  to  even  Chuny 
himself.  We  observed,  however,  that 
the  pure  water  was  strongly  impregnated 
with  an  alkali  (soda),  and  we  need  scarce- 
ly observe,  that  any  of  the  fixed  alkalies 
would  have  the  effect  of  neutralizing 
the  phosphorus,  and  destroying  its  per- 
nicious effects  in  the  stomach.  There 
was  a  similar  exhibition  of  swallowing 
a  quantity  of  arsenic,  some  of  which 
was  fused  over  charcoal,  to  convince 
the  bystanders,  by  the  smell,  that  it  was 
the  real  poison.  To  us,  however,  it  ap- 
peared that  it  was  merely  metallic  ar- 
senic, the  swallowing  of  which  might 
be  done  with  impunity — at  least,  to 
the  extent  to  which  Monsieur  Chabert  re- 
ceived it  into  his  stomach.  We  thought 
this  part  of  the  exhibition  rather  offen- 
sive and  silly,  for  it  was  obvious  that 
the  quality  of  the  drugs,  professed  to 
be  poison,  was  submitted  to  no  fair 
test:  and  there  were  several  links  defi- 
cient in  the  chain  of  reasoning  neces- 
sary to  convince  an  intelligent  person 
that  the  professed  feat  was  really  per- 
formed." Supposing  this  statement  cor- 
rect, there  is  nothing  surprising  in 
Monsieur  Chabert's  trick. 

"  But,"  the  same  writer  adds,  "  it 
was  different  with  the  pyrotechnic  ex- 
hibition.— Monsieur  Chabert  first  poured 
nitric  acid  upon  metallic  filings,  mixed 
(we  suppose)  with  sulphur,  to  form  py- 
"ites  ;  these  he  suffered  fairly  to  ignite 
in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  and  retained 
the  burning  mass  some  time,  although 
a  small  quantity  ignited  in  our  hand 
quickly  made  us  glad  to  plunge  it  into 
water.  Monsieur  Chabert  then  deliber- 
ately rubbed  a  hot  shovel  over  his  skin, 
through  his  hair,  and  finally  upon  the 
tongue.  This  was  very  fairly  done. 
The  next  feat  was  that  of  swallowing 
boiling  oil.  We  tried  the  thermometer 
in  the  oil,  and  found  it  rose  to  340  de- 
grees. Monsieur  Chabert  swallowed  a  few 
table  spoonsful  of  this  burning  liquid, 
which  perhaps  might  have  cooled  to 
about  320  degrees,  between  the  taking 
the  oil  from  the  saucepan  and  the  put- 
ting it  into  his  mouth.  A  gentleman 


in  the  company  came  forward,  and  drop- 
ping lighted  sealing-wax  upon  Monsieur 
Chabert's  tongue,  took  the  impression  of 
his  seal.  This  we  suppose  is  what  is  called 
sealing  a  man's  mouth." 

There  is  nothing  more  astonishing  in 
this  than  in  the  trick  with  the  poisons. 
The  little  black-letter  "  Booke  of  Se- 
cretes of  Albertus  Magnus,  imprinted 
at  London  by  H.  lackson,"  which  dis- 
covers many  "  merveyls  of  the  world," 
happens  to  be  at  hand,  and  two  of 
them  may  throw  some  light  on  the  kind 
of  means  by  which  Monsieur  Chabert 
performed  his  pyrotechnic  exhibition ; 
viz. 

1.  When  thou  wilt  that  thou  seeme  a, 
inflamed,   or  set  on  fyre  from   thy 
head  unto  thy  fete  and  not  be  hurt. 

Take  white  great  malowes  or  holy- 
hocke,  myxe  them  with  the  white 
of  egges ;  after  anoynte  thy  body 
with  it,  and  let  it  be  untill  it  be 
dryed  up  ;  and,  after,  anoynte  the 
with  alume,  and  afterwards  caste 
on  it  smal  brymstone  beaten  unto 
poulder,  for  the  fyre  is  inflamed  on 
it,  and  hurteth  not;  and  if  thou 
make  upon  the  palme  of  thy  hand 
thou  shalt  bee  able  to  hold  the  fyre 
without  hurt. 

2.  A     tnerveylous    experience,    which 
maketh  menne  to   go    into   the  fyre 
without  hurte,   or  to   bere  fyre,  or 
red  hole  yron  in  their  hand,  withoute 
hurte. 

Take  the  juyce  of  Bismalua,  and  the 
whyte  of  an  egge,  and  the  sede  or 
an  hearbe  called  Psillmm,  also  Pu- 
licarius  herba,  and  breake  it  unto 
powder,  and  make  a  confection,  and 
mixe  the  juyce  of  Radysh  with  the 
whyte  of  an  egge. 

Anoynt  thy  body  or  hande  with  this 
confection,  and  let  it  be  dryed  and 
after  anoynte  it  againe  ;  after  that, 
thou  mayest  suffer  boldely  the  fyre 
without  hurt. 

This,  without  multiplying  authorities, 
may  suffice  to  show,  that  a  man  may 
continue  to  work  great  marvels  in  the 
eyes  of  persons  who  are  uninformed, 
by  simple  processes  well  known  centu- 
ries ago.  The  editor  of  the  Every-Day 
Book  was  once  called  on  by  a  lady 
making  tea,  to  hand  the  boiling  water 
in  his  "best  manner:"  he  took  the 
kettle  from  the  fire,  and  placing  its 
bottom  on  his  right  hand,  bore  it  with 
extended  arm  across  the  room  to  his 


75 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  7. 


776 


fair  requisionist,  who  very  nearly  went 
into  fits,  and  some  of  the  female  part 
of  the  company  fainted  :  they  expected 
his  hand  to  be  thoroughly  burned  ;  when, 
in  fact,  no  other  inconvenience  will  result 
to  any  one  who  chooses  to  present  a  tea- 
kettle in  that  way  than  the  necessity  of 
wiping  the  soil  from  the  hand  by  a  damp 
cloth.  Some  of  the  most  common  things 
are  wonderful  to  those  who  have  never 
seen  them. 

As  to  M.  Chabert,  the  "  Morning 
Chronicle"  account  says,  "  But  now 
came  the  grand  and  terrific  exhibition — 
the  entering  the  oven — for  which  expecta- 
tion was  excited  to  the  highest  pitch. 
We  had  the  curiosity  to  apply  the 
unerring  test  of  the  thermometer  to  the 
inside  of  the  oven,  and  found  the  maxi- 
mum of  heat  to  be  220  deg.  M.  Cha- 
bert, being  dressed  in  a  loose  black  linen 
robe,  rendered,  he  assured  us,  as  fire- 
proof as  asbestos,  by  a  chemical  solution, 
entered  the  oven  amidst  the  applause  of 
the  spectators.  He  continued  like  a  mo- 
dern Shadrach  in  the  fiery  furnace,  and 
after  a  suspense  of  about  12  minutes, 
again  appeared  to  the  anxious  specta- 
tors, triumphantly  bearing  the  beef-steak 
fully  dressed,  which  he  had  taken  into 
the  oven  with  him  raw.  M.  Chabert 
also  exhibited  to  us  the  thermometer, 
which  he  had  taken  into  the  oven  with 
him  at  60  deg.,  and  which  was  now 
up  to  590  deg.  We  need  not  say  that 
the  bulb  had  been  kept  in  the  burn- 
ing embers,  of  which  it  bore  palpable 
signs.  This  was  a  mere  trick,  unworthy 
of  the  exhibition,  for  Mons.  Chabeit 
really  bore  the  oven  heated  to  220  deg. 
for  full  twenty  minutes.  Whether  we 
were  emulous  of  Paul  Pry,  and  peeped 
under  the  iron  door  of  the  oven,  and 
beheld  the  beef-steak  and  leg  of  mutton 
cooking  upon  a  heap  of  charcoal  and 
embers  concealed  in  the  corner  of  the 
oven,  we  must  not  say,  '  it  were  too 
curious  to  consider  matters  after  that 
manner.'  We  are  only  doing  justice  to 
Monsieur  Chabert  in  saying,  that  he  is 
the  best  of  all  fire-eaters  we  have  yet 
seen,  and  that  his  performance  is  truly 
wonderful,  and  highly  worthy  of  the 
public  patronage.  A  man  so  impervious 
to  fire,  may  '  make  assurance  doubly  sure, 
and  take  a  bond  of  fate.'  " 

Stay,  stay !  Not  quite  so  fast.  M. 
Chabert  is  a  man  of  tricks,  but  his 
only  real  trick  failed  to  deceive ;  this 


was  placing  the  bulb  of  the  thermome- 
ter in  burning  embers,  to  get  the  mer- 
cury up  to  590,  while,  in  fact,  the  heat 
he  really  bore  in  the  oven  was  only  220  ; 
which,  as  he  bore  that  heat  for  "  full 
twenty  minutes/'  the  writer  quoted 
deems  "  really  wonderful."  That  it  was 
not  wonderful  for  such  an  exhibitor  to 
endure  such  a  heat,  will  appear  from  the 
following  statements. 

About  the  middle  of  January,  1774, 
Dr.  Charles  Blagden,  F.R.S.,  received 
an  invitation  from  Dr.  George  Fordyce, 
to  observe  the  effects  of  air  heated  to  a 
much  higher  degree  than  it  was  formerly 
thought  any  living  creature  could  bear. 
Dr.  Fordyce  had  himself  proved  the  mis- 
take of  Dr.  Boeihaave  and  most  other 
authors,  by  supporting  many  times  very 
high  degrees  of  heat,  in  the  course  of  a 
long  train  of  important  experiments.  Dr. 
Cullen  had  long  before  suggested  many 
arguments  to  show,  that  life  itself  had 
a  power  of  generating  heat,  independent 
of  any  common  chemical  or  mechanical 
means.  Governor  Ellis  in  the  year  1 758 
had  observed,  that  a  man  could  live  in 
air  of  a  greater  heat  than  that  of  his 
body;  and  that  the  body,  in  this  situa- 
tion, continues  its  own  cold ;  and  the 
abbe"  Chappe  d'Auteroche  had  written 
that  the  Russians  used  their  baths  heated 
to  60  deg.  of  Reaumur's  thermometer, 
about  160  of  Fahrenheit's.  With  a  view 
to  add  further  evidence  to  these  extra- 
ordinary facts,  and  to  ascertain  the  real 
effects  of  such  great  degrees  of  heat  on 
the  human  body,  Dr.  Fordyce  tried  va- 
rious experiments  in  heated  chambers 
without  chimneys,  and  from  whence  the 
external  air  was  excluded.  One  of  these 
experiments  is  thus  related. 

Dr.  Blagden's  Narrative. 
The  honourable  captain  Phipps,  Mr. 
(afterwards  sir  Joseph)  Banks,  Dr.  So- 
lander,  and  myself,  attended  Dr.  For- 
dyce to  the  heated  chamber,  which  had 
served  for  many  of  his  experiments  with 
dry  air.  We  went  in  without  taking  off 
any  of  our  clothes.  It  was  an  oblong- 
square  room,  fourteen  feet  by  twelve  is 
length  and  width,  and  eleven  in  height, 
heated  by  a  round  stove,  or  cockle,  of 
cast  iron,  which  stood  in  the  middle, 
with  a  tube  for  the  smoke  carried  from 
it  through  one  of  the  side  walls.  When 
we  first  entered  the  room,  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  quicksilver 
in  a  thermometer,  which  had  been  sus. 


777 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  7. 


778 


pended  there  stood  above  the  150th  de- 
gree. By  placing-  several  thermome- 
ters in  different  parts  of  the  room  \ve 
afterwards  found,  that  the  heat  was  a 
little  greater  in  some  places  than  in 
others ;  but  that  the  whole  difference 
never  exceeded  20  deg.  We  continued 
in  the  room  above  20  minutes,  in  which 
time  the  heat  had  risen  about  12  deg., 
chiefly  during-  the  first  part  of  our  stay. 
Within  an  hour  afterwards  we  went 
into  this  room  again,  without  seeing-  any 
material  difference,  thougli  the  heat  was 
considerably  increased.  Upon  entering 
the  room  a  third  time,  between  five  .and 
six  o'clock  after  dinner,  we  observed  the 
quicksilver  in  our  only  remaining1  ther- 
mometer at  198  deg1. ;  this  great  heat  had 
so  warped  the  ivory  frames  of  our  other 
thermometers,  that  every  one  of  them 
was  broken.  We  now  staid  in  the  room, 
all  tog-ether,  about  10  minutes  ;  but  find- 
ing that  the  thermometer  sunk  very  fast, 
it  was  agreed,  that  for  the  future  only 
one  person  should  go  in  at  a  time,  and 
orders  were  g-iven  to  raise  the  fire  as 
much  as  possible.  Soon  afterwards  Dr. 
Solander  entered  the  room  alone,  and 
saw  the  thermometer  at  210  deg-.,  but, 
during  three  minutes  that  he  staid  there, 
it  sunk  to  196  deg.  Another  time,  he 
found  it  almost  five  minutes  before  the 
heat  was  lessened  from  210  deg.,  to  196 
deg.  Mr.  Banks  closed  the  whole,  by 
going  in  when  the  thermometer  stood 
above  211  deg. ;  he  remained  seven  mi- 
nutes, in  which  time  the  quicksilver  had 
sunk  to  198  deg. ;  but  cold  air  had  been 
let  into  the  room  by  a  person  who  went 
in  and  came  out  again  during  Mr.  Banks's 
stay.  The  air  heated  to  these  high  de- 
grees felt  unpleasantly  hot,  but  was  very 
bearable.  Our  most  uneasy  feeling  was 
a  sense  of  scorching  on  the  face  and  legs  : 
our  legs,  particularly,  suffered  very  much, 
by  being  exposed  more  fully  than  any 
other  part  to  the  body  of  the  stove, 
heated  red-hot  by  the  fire  within.  Our 
respiration  was  not  at  all  affected;  it 
became  neither  quick  nor  laborious  ;  the 
only  difference  was  a  waitf  of  that  re- 
freshing sensation  which  accompanies  a 
full  inspiration  of  cool  air.  Our  time 
was  so  taken  up  with  other  observations, 
that  we  did  not  count  our  pulses  by  the 
watch:  mine,  to  the  best  of  my  iudg- 
ment  by  feeling  it,  beat  at  the  rate  of 
100  pulsations  in  a  minute,  near  the  end 
of  the  first  experiment ;  and  Dr.  Solan- 
der s  made  92  pulsations  in  a  minute, 


soon  after  we  had  gone  out  of  the  heated 
room.  Mr.  Banks  sweated  profusely,  but 
no  one  else:  my  shirt  was  only  damp  at 
the  end  of  the  experiment.  But  the 
most  striking  effects  proceeded  from  our 
power  of  preserving  our  natural  tempe- 
rature. Being  now  in  a  situation  in 
which  our  bodies  bore  a  very  different 
relation  to  the  surrounding  atmosphere 
from  that  to  which  we  had  been  accus- 
tomed, every  moment  presented  a  new 
phenomenon.  Whenever  we  breathed 
on  a  thermometer,  the  quicksilver  sunk 
several  degrees.  Every  expiration,  par- 
ticularly if  made  with  any  degree  of 
violence,  gave  a  very  pleasant  impres- 
sion of  coolness  to  our  nostrils,  scorched 
just  before  by  the  hot  air  rushing  against 
them  when  we  inspired.  In  the  same 
manner  our  now  cold  breath  agreeably 
cooled  our  fingers,  whenever  it  reached 
them.  Upon  touching  my  side,  it  felt 
cold  like  a  corpse  ;  and  yet  the  actual 
heat  of  my  body,  tried  under  my  tongue, 
and  by  applying  closely  the  thermome- 
ter to  my  skin,  was  98  deg.,  about  a 
degree  higher  than  its  ordinary  tempe- 
rature. When  the  heat  of  the  air  began 
to  approach  the  highest  degree  which 
the  apparatus  was  capable  of  producing, 
our  bodies  in  the  room  prevented  it  from 
rising  any  higher;  and,  when  it  had 
been  previously  raised  above  that  point, 
inevitably  sunk  it.  Every  experiment 
furnished  proofs  of  this :  towards  the 
end  of  the  first,  the  thermometer  was 
stationary  :  in  the  second,  it  sunk  a  little 
during  the  short  time  we  staid  in  the 
room  :  in  the  third,  it  sunk  so  fast  as  to 
oblige  us  to  determine  that  only  one 
person  should  go  in  at  a  time  ;  ami  Mr. 
Banks  and  Dr.  Solander  each  found,  that 
his  single  body  was  sufficient  to  sink  the 
quicksilver  very  fast,  when  the  room 
was  brought  nearly  to  its  maximum  of 
heat 

These  experiments,  therefore,  prove 
in  the  clearest  manner,  that  the  body 
has  a  power  of  destroying  heat.  To 
speak  justly  on  this  subject,  we  must 
call  it  a  power  of  destroying  a  certain  de- 
gree of  heat  communicated  with  certain 
quickness.  Therefore,  in  estimating  the 
heat  which  we  are  capable  of  resisting, 
it  is  necessary  to  take  into  consideration 
not  only  what  degree  of  heat  would  be 
communicated  to  our  bodies,  if  they  pos- 
sessed no  resisting  power,  by  the  heated 
body,  before  the  equilibrium  of  heat  was 
effected;  but  also  what  time  that  heat 


THE  JEVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  8. 


780 


would  take  in  passing  from  the  heated 
body  into  our  bodies.  In  consequence 
of  this  compound  limitation  of  our  re- 
sisting power,  we  bear  very  different 
degrees  of  heat  in  different  mediums. 
The  same  person  who  felt  no  inconve- 
nience from  air  heated  to  211  deg.  could 
not  bear  quicksilver  at  120  deg.  and 
could  just  bear  rectified  spirit  of  wine 
at  130  deg.  that  is,  quicksilver  heated  to 
120  deg.  furnished,  in  a  given  time,  more 
heat  for  the  living  powers  to  destroy, 
than  spirits  heated  to  130  deg.  or  air  to 
211  deg.  And  we  had,  in  the  heated 
room  where  our  experiments  were  made, 
a  striking,  though  familiar  instance  of 
the  same.  All  the  pieces  of  metal  there, 
even  our  watch-chains,  felt  so  hot  that 
we  could  scarcely  bear  to  touch  them 
for  a  moment,  whilst  the  air,  from  which 
the  metal  had  derived  all  its  heat,  was 
only  unpleasant.  The  slowness  with 
which  air  communicates  its  heat  was 
further  shown,  in  a  remarkable  manner, 
by  the  thermometers  we  brought  with 
us  into  the  room ;  none  of  which,  at  the 
end  of  twenty  minutes,  in  the  first  ex- 
periment, had  acquired  the  real  heat  of 
the  air  by  several  degrees.  It  might  be 
supposed,  that  by  an  action  so  very  dif- 
ferent from  that  to  which  we  are  ac- 
customed, as  destroying  a  large  quantity 
of  heat,  instead  of  generating  it,  we 
must  have  been  greatly  disordered.  And 
indeed  we  experienced  some  inconve- 
nience; our  hands  shook  very  much, 
and  we  felt  a  considerable  degree  of 
languor  and  debility ;  I  had  also  a  noise 
and  giddiness  in  my  head.  But  it  was 
only  a  small  part  of  our  bodies  that  ex- 
cited the  power  of  destroying  heat  with 
such  a  violent  effort  as  seems  necessary 
at  first  sight.  Our  clothes,  contrived  to 
guard  us  from  cold,  guarded  us  from  the 
heat  on  the  same  principles.  Under- 
neath we  were  surrounded  with  an  at- 
mosphere of  air,  cooled  on  one  side  to 
98  deg.  by  being  in  contact  with  our 
bodies,  and  on  the  other  side  heated  very 
slowly,  because  woollen  is  such  a  bad 
conductor  of  heat.  Accordingly  I  found, 
toward  the  end  of  the  first  experiment, 
that  a  thermometer  put  under  my  clothes, 
but  not  in  contact  with  my  skin,  sunk 
down  to  110  deg.  On  this  principle  it 
was  that  the  animals,  subjected  by  M. 
Tillet  to  the  interesting  experiments  re- 
lated in  the  "  Memoirs  of  the  Academy 
of  Sciences"  for  the  year  1764,  bore  the 
oven  so  much  better  when  they  were 


clothed,  than  when  they  were  put  in 
bare:  the  heat  actually  applied  to  the 
greatest  part  of  their  bodies  was  consi- 
-derably  less  in  the  first  case  than  in  the 
last.  As  animals  can  destroy  only  a 
certain  quantity  of  heat  in  a  given  time, 
so  the  time  they  can  continue  the  full 
exertion  of  this  destroying  power  seems 
to  be  also  limited ;  which  may  be  one 
reason  why  we  can  bear  for  a  certain 
time,  and  much  longer  than  can  be  ne- 
cessary to  fully  heat  the  cuticle,  a  degree 
of  heat  which  will  at  length  prove  in- 
tolerable. Probably  both  the  power  of 
destroying  heat,  and  the  time  for  which 
it  can  be  exerted,  may  be  increased, 
like  most  other  faculties  of  the  body,  by 
frequent  exercise.  It  might  be  partly 
on  this  principle,  that,  in  M.  Tillet's  ex- 
periments, the  girls,  who  had  been  used 
to  attend  the  oven,  bore,  for  ten  minutes, 
an  heat  which  would  raise  Fahrenheit's 
thermometer  to  280  deg.  In  our  expe- 
riments, however,  not  one  of  us  thought 
he  suffered  the  greatest  degree  of  heat 
that  he  was  able  to  support.* 

We  find  then,  that  Dr.  Fordyce,  Dr. 
Blagden,  Dr.  Solander,  the  honourable 
captain  Phipps,  sir  Joseph  Banks,  to. 
gether,  bore  the  heat  at  1 98  deg. ;  that 
Dr.  Solander  went  into  the  room  at  210, 
sir  Joseph  Banks  at  211 ;  and  that  M. 
Tillet's  oven-girls  bore  a  heat  for  ten 
minutes  which  would  raise  the  ther- 
mometer to  280  deg.,  being  60  deg. 
higher  than  M.  Chabert  bore  for  ten 
minutes  at  White  Conduit-house.  Re- 
cent experiments  in  England  fully  cor- 
roborate the  experiments  referred  to ; 
and,  in  short,  an  extension  of  our  know- 
ledge in  philosophical  works  will  outjug- 
gle  jugglers  of  every  description. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  70. 

Stme  8. 

FIGG,  4nE  PRIZE  FIGHTER. 
A  printed  advertisement  from  this 
"  early  master"  in  the  "  noble  art  of  self- 
defence,"  in  answer  to  a  challenge  from 
the  anciently-noted  Sutton,  with  the  chal- 
lenge itself,  being  before  the  editor  in 
the  shape  of  a  small  hand-bill,  printed 


*  Prtilos.  Trans. 


T81 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  9. 


nt  the  time  wherein  they  "flourished," 
it  is  submitted  verbatim,  as  the  first  spe- 
cimen in  these  pages  of  the  manner 


wherein  these  self-styled  heroes  an 
nounced  their  exhibitions  "for  the  be 
nefit  of  the  public." 


G.       R. 


At  Mr.  FIGG's  New  Amphitheatre. 

Joyning  to  his  House,  the  Sign  of  the  City  of  Oxford,  in  Oxford 
Road,  Marybone  Fields,  on  Wednesday  next,  being  the  8th  of 
Ju?ie,  1726.  Will  be  Perform' d  a  Tryal  of  Skill  by  the  following 
Masters. 

WHereas  I  EDWARD  SUTTON,  Pipemaker  from  Gravesend,  and  Kentish 
Professor  of  the  Noble  Science  of  Defence,  having,  under  a  Sleeveless 
Pretence  been  deny'd  a  Combat  by  and  with  the  Extoll'd  Mr.  FIGG ;  which  I 
take  to  be  occasioned  through  fear  of  his  having  that  Glory  Eclipsed  by  me, 
wherewith  the  Eyes  of  all  Spectators  have  been  so  much  dazzled :  Therefore,  to 
make  appear,  that  the  great  Applause  which  has  so  much  puff 'd  up  this  Hero,  has 
proceeded  only  from  his  Foyling  such  who  are  not  worthy  the  name  of  Swords- 
men, as  also  that  he  may  be  without  any  farther  Excuse ;  1  do  hereby  dare  the 
said  Mr.  FIGG  to  meet  as  above,  and  dispute  with  me  the  Superiority  of  Judg- 
ment in  the  Sword,  (which  will  best  appear  by  Cuts,  fyc.)  at  all  the  Weapons  he 
is  or  shall  be  then  Capable  of  Performing  on  the  Stage. 

I  JAMES  FIGG,  Oxonian  Professor  of  the  said  Science,  will  not  fail  giving  this 
daring  Kentish  Champion  an  Opportunity  to  make  good  his  Allegations;  when, 
it  is  to  be  hop'd,  if  he  finds  himself  Foyl'd  he  will  then  change  his  Tone,  and  not 
think  himself  one  of  the  Number  who  are  not  worthy  the  Name  of  Swordsmen, 
as  he  is  pleased  to  signifie  by  his  Expression :  However,  as  the  most  significant 
Way  of  deciding  these  Controversies  is  by  Action,  I  shall  defer  what  1  have  farther 
to  Act  till  the  Time  above  specified;  when  I  shall  take  care  not  to  deviate  from 
my  usual  Custom,  in  making  all  such  Bravadoes  sensible  of  their  Error,  as  also  in 
giving  all  Spectators  intire  Satisfaction. 

N.B.  The  Doors  will  be  open'd  at  Four,  and  the  Masters  mount  between  Six, 
and  Seven  exactly.  V1VAT  REX. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  59  *  52. 

Sum  9. 

THE  SEASON,  IN  LONDON. 

Now,  during  the  first  fortnight,  Ken- 
sington Gardens  is  a  place  not  to  be 
paralleled :  for  the  unfashionable  por- 
tion of  my  readers  are  to  know,  that  this 
delightful  spot,  which  has  been  utterly 
deserted  during  the  last  age  (of  seven 
y^ars),  and  could  not  be  named  during 


all  that  period  without  incurring  the 
odious  imputation  of  having  a  taste  fo«- 
trees  and  turf,  has  now  suddenly  started 
into  vogue  once  more,  and  you  may 
walk  there, even  during  the  "morning" 
part  of  a  Sunday  afternoon,  with  perfect 
impunity,  always  provided  you  pay  a 
due  deference  to  the  decreed  hours,  and 
never  make  your  appearance  there 
earlier  than  twenty  minutes  before  five, 
or  later  than  half-past  six  ;  which  is  al- 
lowing you  exactly  two  hours  after 
breakfast  to  dress  for  the  Promenade, 
and  an  hour  after  you  get  home  to  do 


733 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  g. 


784 


the  same  for  dinner:  little  enough,  it 
must  be  confessed ;  but  quite  as  much 
as  the  unremitting  labour  of  a  life  of 
idleness  can  afford  !  Between  the  above- 
named  hours,  on  the  three  first  Sundays 
of  this  month,  and  the  two  last  of  the 
preceding,  you  may  (weather  willing) 
gladden  your  gaze  with  such  a  galaxy 
of  beauty  and  fashion  (I  beg  to  be  par- 
doned for  the  repetition,  for  fashion  is 
beauty)  as  no  other  period  or  place, 
Almack's  itself  not  excepted,  can  boast: 
tor  there  is  no  denying  that  the  fair 
rulers  over  this  last-named  rendezvous 
of  the  regular  troops  of  bon  ton  are 
homewhat  too  recherch&e  in  their  re- 
quirements. The  truth  is,  that  though 
the  said  rulers  will  not  for  a  moment 
hesitate  to  patronise  the  above  prop'o- 
sition  under  its  simple  form,  they  en- 
tirely object  to  that  subtle  interpreta- 
tion of  it  which  their  sons  arid  nephews 
would  introduce,  and  on  which  inter- 
pretation the  sole  essent'ral  difference 
between  the  two  assemblies  depends. 
In  fact,  at  Almack's  fashion  is  beauty ; 
but  at  Kensington  Gardens  beauty  and 
fashion  are  one.  At  any  rate,  those 
who  have  not  been  present  at  the  latter 
place  during  the  period  above  referred 
to,  have  not  seen  the  finest  sight  (with 
one  exception)  that  England  has  to 
offer. 

Vauxhall  Gardens,  which  open  the 
first  week  in  this  month,  are  somewhat 
different  from  the  above,  it  must  be 
confessed.  But  they  are  unique  in  their 
way  nevertheless.  Seen  in  the  darkness 
of  noonday,  as  one  passes  by  them  on 
the  top  of  the  Portsmouth  coach,  they 
cut  a  sorry  figure  enough.  But  beneath 
the  full  meridian  of  midnight,  what  is 
like  them,  except  some  parts  of  the 
Arabian  Nights'  Entertainments?  Now, 
after  the  first  few  nights,  they  begin  to 
be  in  their  glory,  and  are,  on  every  suc- 
cessive gala,  illuminated  with  "  ten 
thousand  additional  lamps,"  and  include 
all  the  particular  attractions  of  every 
preceding  gala  since  the  beginning  of 
time! 

Now,  on  fine  evenings,  -the  sunshine 
finds  (or  rather  loses)  its  way  into  the 
galleries  of  Summer  theatres  at  whole 
price,  and  wonders  where  it  has  got  to. 

Now,  boarding-school  boys,  in  the 
purlieus  of  Paddingtou  and  Mile  End, 
employ  the  whole  of  the  first  week  in 
writing  home  to  their  distant  friends  in 
London  a  letter  of  not  less  than  eight 


lines,  announcing  that  the  **  ensuing  va- 
cation will  commence  on  the in- 
stant;" and  occupy  the  remaining  fort- 
night in  trying  to  find  out  the  unknown 
numerals  with  which  the  blank  has 
been  filled  up. 

Finally,  now,  during  the  first  few 
days,  you  cannot  walk  the  streets  with- 
out waiting,  at  every  crossing,  for  the 
passage  of  whole  regiments  of  little  boys 
in  leather  breeches,  and  little  girls  in 
white  aprons,  going  to  church  to  prac- 
tise their  annual  anthem-singing,  prepa- 
ratory to  that  particular  Thursday  in 
this  month,  which  is  known  all  over  the 
world  of  charity-schools  by  the  name  of 
"  walking  day  ;"  when  their  little  voices, 
ten  thousand  strong,  are  to  utter  forth 
sounds  that  shall  dwell  for  ever  hi  the 
hearts  of  their  hearers.  Those  who  have 
seen  this  sight,  of  all  the  charity  chil- 
dren within  the  bills  of  mortality  as- 
sembled beneath  the  dome  of  Saint 
Paul's,  and  heard  the  sounds  of  thanks- 
giving and  adoration  which  they  utter 
there,  have  seen  and  heard  what  is  per- 
haps better  calculated  than  anything 
human  ever  was,  to  convey  to  the  ima- 
gination a  faint  notion  of  what  we  ex- 
pect to  witness  hereafter,  when  the 
hosts  of  heaven  shall  utter  with  one 
voice,  hymns  of  adoration  before  the 
footstool  of  the  Most  High  *. 


TWILIGHT. 

How  fine  to  view  the  Sun's  departing  ray 
Fling  back  a  lingering  lovely  after-day  ; 
The  moon  of  summer  glides  serenely  by, 
And  sheds  a  light  enchantment  o'er  the  sky. 
These,  sweetly  mingling,  pour  upon   the 

sight 

A  pencilled  shadowing,  and  a  dewy  light — 
A  softened  day,  a  half  unconscious  night. 
Alas    too  finely  pure  on  earth  to  stay, 
It  faintly  spots  the  hill,  and  dies  away. 
Thatcham.  J.  W. 

THE  WATER  FOUNTAIN. 

It  seems  seasonable  to  introduce  an 
engraving  of  a  very  appropriate  orna- 
ment of  a  shop  window,  which  will  not 
surprise  any  one  so  much  as  the  pro- 
prietor, who,  whatever  may  be  thought 
to  the  contrary,  is  wholly  unknown  to 
the  editor  of  this  work. 

As  a  summer  decoration,  there  is 
scarcely  any  thing  prettier  than  this 
little  fountain.  Gilt  fish  on  the  edge 

•  Mirror  of  the  Month?. 


785 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  10. 


786 


of  the  lower  basin  spout  jets  of  water 
into  the  upper  one,  which  constantly 
overflows,  and,  washing  the  rnoss  on  its 
stand,  falis  into  its  first  receiver.  These 
vessels  are  of  glass,  and  contain  live  fish; 
and  on  the  surface  of  the  larger,  white 
waxen  swans  continue  in  gentle  motion. 
Vines,  of  flowers  and  other  elegancies 
are  its  surrounding  accompaniments. 


This  representation  exemplifies  the 
rivalry  of  London  tradesmen  to  attract 
attention.  Their  endeavours  have  not 
attained  the  height  they  are  capable  of 
reaching,  but  the  beautiful  forms  and 
graceful  displays  continually  submitted 
to  the  sight  of  passengers,  evince  a 
dUf  vaition  which  renders  our  shops  the 
most  elegant  in  Europe. 


3  jfmmtam  fit  Suite,  1826, 

In  the  window  of  Mr.  Parrel,  Pastrycook,  Lambs-Condmt-Strcet,  London. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  59'  15. 


Suite  10. 

HOUSE  OF  GOD,  NEWCASTLE. 

On  the  10th  of  June,  1412,  King 
henry  IV.  granted  his  royal  license  to 
*«  hospital  called  the  Maison  de  Dicu, 


or  "  House  of  God,"  erected  by  Roger 
Thornton,  on  the  Sandhill,  Newcastle, 
for  the  purpose  of  providing  certain 
persons  with  food  and  clothing.  The 
building  seems  to  have  been  completed 
in  that  year.  Before  it  was  pulled  down 
in  1823,  the  "Merchant's  Court"  was 
established  over  it,  and  at  this  time  a 
new  building  for  the  company  of  Free 
Merchants,  &c.,  is  erected  on  its  site. 
The  son  of  the  founder  of  the  old 


787 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  11,  12. 


788 


hospital  granted  the  use  of  its  hall  and 
kitchen  "  for  a  young  couple  when 
they  were  married  to  make  their  wed- 
ding dinner  in,  and  receive  the  offerings 
and  gifts  of  their  friends,  for  at  that  time 
houses  were  not  large."  Mr.  Sykes,  in 
his  interesting  volume  of  "  Local  Re- 
cords," remarks,  that  "  this  appears  an 
ancient  custom  for  the  encouragement 
of  matrimony." 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature   ...  59  •  37. 


11. 

BLESSINGS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 
Hast  thou  e'er  seen  a  garden  clad 
Jn  all  the  robes  that  Eden  had; 
Or  vale  o'erspread  with  streams  and  traes, 
A  paradise  of  mysteries ; 
Plains  with  green  hills  adorning  them, 
Like  jewels  in  a  diadem  ? 
These  gardens,  vales,  and  plains,  and  hills, 
Which  beauty  gilds  and  music  fills, 
Were  once  but  deserts.    Culture's  hand 
Has  scattered  verdure  o'er  the  land, 
And  smiles  and  fragrance  rule  serene, 
Where  barren  wild  usurped  the  scene. 
And  such  is  man — A  soil  which  breeds 
Or  sweeetest  flowers,  or  vilest  weeds; 
Flowers  lovely  as  the  morning's  light, 
Weeds  deadly  as  an  aconite ; 
Just  as  his  heart  is  trained  to  bear 
The  poisonous  weed,  or  flow'ret  fair. 

Bowring. 

NATURALISTS   CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  58  '  75. 

12. 

THE  SEASON,  IN  THE  COUNTRY. 

Sh  eep-Shearing. 

Sheep-shearing,  one  of  the  great  rural 
labours  of  this  delightful  month,  if  not 
so  full  of  variety  as  the  hay-harvest,  and 
so  creative  of  matter  for  those  "  in  search 
of  the  picturesque"  (.though  it  is  scarcely 
less  so),  is  still  more  lively,  animated, 
and  spirit-stirring;  and  it  besides  re- 
tains something  of  the  character  of  a 
rural  holiday,  which  rural  matters  need, 
in  this  age  and  in  this  country,  more 
than  ever  they  did,  since  it  became  a 
civilized  and  happy  one.  The  sheep- 
shearings  are  the  only  staled  periods  of 
the  year  at  which  we  hear  of  festivities, 
and  gatherings  together  of  the  lovers 
and  practisers  of  English  husbandry  ;  for 
even  the  harvest-home  itself  is  fast  sink- 


ing into  disuse,  as  a  scene  of  mirth  and 
revelry,  from  the  want  of  being  duly 
encouraged  and  partaken  in  by  the  great 
ones  of  the  earth  ;  without  whose  coun- 
tenance and  example  it  is  questionable 
whether  eating,  drinking,  and  sleeping, 
would  not  soon  become  vulgar  practices, 
and  be  discontinued  accordingly  !  In  a 
state  of  things  like  this,  the  Holkham 
and  Woburn  sheep-shearings  do  more 
honour  to  their  promoters  than  all  their 
wealth  can  purchase  and  all  their  titles 
convey.  But  we  are  getting  beyond  our 
soundings:  honours,  titles,  and  "states 
of  things,"  are  what  we  do  not  pretend 
to  meddle  with,  especially  when  the 
pretty  sights  and  sounds  preparatory  to 
and  attendant  on  sheep-shearing,  as  a 
mere  rural  employment,  are  waiting  to 
be  noticed. 

Now,  then,  on  the  first  really  sum- 
mer's day,  the  whole  flock  being  col- 
lected on  the  higher  bank  of  the  pool 
formed  at  the  abrupt  winding  of  the 
nameless  mill-stream,  at  the  point,  per- 
haps, where  the  little  wooden  bridge 
runs  slantwise  across  it,  and  the  attend- 
ants being  stationed  waist-deep  in  the 
midwater,  the  sheep  are,  after  a  silent 
but  obstinate  struggle  or  two,  plunged 
headlong,  one  by  one,  from  the  preci- 
pitous bank ;  when,  after  a  moment  of 
confused  splashing,  their  heavy  fleeces 
float  them  along,  and  their  feet,  moving 
by  an  instinctive  art  which  every  crea- 
ture but  man  possesses,  guide  them 
towards  the  opposite  shallows,  that 
steam  and  glitter  in  the  sunshine.  Mid- 
way, however,  they  are  fain  to  submit 
to  the  rude  grasp  of  the  relentless 
washer,  which  they  undergo  with  as  ill 
a  grace  as  preparatory  schoolboys  do 
the  same  operation.  Then,  gaining  the 
opposite  shore  heavily,  they  stand  for  a 
moment  till  the  weight  of  water  leaves 
them,  and,  shaking  their  streaming  sides, 
go  bleating  away  towards  their  fellows 
on  the  adjacent  green,  wondering  within 
themselves  what  has  happened. 

The  shearing  k  no  less  lively  and  pic- 
turesque, and  no  less  attended  by  all  the 
idlers  of  the  village  as  spectators.  The 
shearers,  seated  in  rows  beside  the 
crowded  pens,  with  the  seemingly  in- 
animate load  of  fleece  in  their  laps,  and 
bending  intently  over  their  work ;  the 
occasional  whetting  and  clapping  of  the 
shears;  the  neatly-attired  housewives, 
waiting  to  receive  the  flee'ces  j  the  smoke 
from  the  tar-keltle,  ascending  through 
the  clear  air;  the  shorn  sheep  escaping, 


789 


THE  EVERY-UA\  BOOK.— JUNE  13. 


790 


one  by  one,  from  their  temporary  bond- 
age, and  trotting  away  towards  their 
distant  brethren,  bleating  all  the  while 
for  their  lambs,  that  do  not  know  them  ; 
all  this,  with  its  ground  of  universal 
green,  and  finished  every-where  by  its 
leafy  distances,  except  where  the  village 
spire  intervenes,  forms  together  a  living 
picture,  pleasanter  to  look  upon  than 
words  can  speak,  but  still  pleasanter  to 
think  of,  when  that  is  the  nearest  ap- 
proach you  can  make  to  it.* 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  this  day,  in  the  year  1734,  the 
duke  of  Berwick,  while  visiting  the 
trenches  at  the  siege  of  Philipsburgh, 
near  Spire,  in  Germany,  was  killed, 
standing  between  his  two  sons  by  a 
cannon  ball.  He  was  the  illegitimate 
son  of  the  duke  of  York,  afterwards 
James  II.,  whom  he  accompanied  in  his 
flight  from  England,  in  1688.  His  mo- 
ther was  Arabella  Churchill,  maid  of 
honour  to  the  duchess  of  York,  and 
sister  to  the  renowned  Marlborough. 

The  duke  of  Berwick  on  quitting  the 
country,  entered  into  the  service  of 
France,  and  was  engaged  in  several 
battles  against  the  English  or  their  allies 
in  Ireland,  the  Netherlands,  Portugal, 
and  Spain.  At  his  death  he  was  in  the 
sixty-fourth  year  of  his  age.  No  general 
of  his  time  excelled  him  in  the  art  of 
war  except  his  uncle,  the  duke  of  Marl- 
borough  .-f 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     .  ...  58  •  40. 


Suite  13. 

SIGNS 
"  Of  the  Times," 

NEW  AND  OLD. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Liverpool,  6th  June,  1 8  26. 

Sir, — The  pages  of  The  Every-Day 
Book,  notwithstanding  a  few  exceptions, 
have  afforded  me  unqualified  pleasure, 
and  having  observed  your  frequent  and 
reiterated  requests  for  communications, 
[  having  been  induced  to  send  you  the 
following  doggrels. 

I  ought  to  promise  that  they  formed 
part  of  the  sign  of  an  alehouse,  formerly 


*  Mirror  of  the  Months. 

t  Butler's  Chronological  Exercises. 


standing  in  Chapel-street,  near  St.  Ni- 
cholas church  in  this  town,  but  which 
is  now  taken  down  to  make  room  for  a 
costly  pile  of  warehouses  since  erected 
on  the  site. 

The  sign  represented  (elegantly,  of 
course)  a  man  standing  in  a  cart  laden 
with  fish,  and  holding  in  his  right  hand 
what  the  artist  intended  to  represent  a 
salmon.  The  lines  are  to  be  supposed 
to  be  spoken  by  the  driver : — 

This  salmon  has  got  a  tail 

It's  very  like  a  whale, 

It's  a  fish  that's  very  merry, 

They  say  it's  catch'd  at  Derry  ; 

It's  a  fish  that's  got  a  heart, 

It's  catch'd  and  put  in  Dugdale's  cart. 

This  truly  classic  production  of  the  muse 
of  Mersey  continued  for  several  years  to 
adorn  the  host's  door,  until  a  change  in 
the  occupant  of  the  house  induced  a  cor- 
responding change  of  the  sign,  and  the 
following  lines  graced  the  sign  of  "  The 
Fishing  Smack  :" — 

The  cart  and  salmon  has  stray 'd  away, 
And  left  the  fishing-boat  to  stay. 
When  boisterous  winds  do  drive  you  back, 
Come  in  and  drink  at  the  Fishing  Smack. 

Whilst  I  am  upon  the  subject  of 
"signs,"  I  cannot  omit  mentioning  a 
punning  one  in  the  adjoining  county 
(Chester)  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
Mersey,  by  the  highway-side,  leading 
from  Liscard  to  Wallasea.  The  house 
is  kept  by  a  son  of  Crispin,  and  he, 
zealous  of  his  trade,  exhibits  the  repre- 
sentation of  a  last,  and  under  it  this 
couplet : — 

All  day  long  I  have  sought  good  beer, 
And  at  the  last  I  have  found  it  here. 
I  do  not  know,  sir,  whether  the  pre- 
ceding nonsense  may  be  deemed  worthy 
of  a  niche  in  your  miscellany ;  but  I  have 
sent  it  at  a  venture,  knowing  that  origi- 
nals, however  trifling,  are  sometimes  va- 
luable to  a  pains-taking   (and,  perhaps, 
wearied)  collector. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  obliged, 

LECTOR. 


By  publishing  the  letter  of  my  obliging 
correspondent  "  LECTOR,"  who  transmits 
his  real  name,  I  am  enabling  England  to 
say — ha  has  done  his  duty. 

Really  if  each  of  my  readers  would  do 
like  him  I  should  be  very  grateful. 
While  printing  his  belief  that  I  am  a 
"  pains-taking"  collector,  I  would  inter- 


701 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  14,  15. 


793 


pose  by  observing1  that  I  am  far,  very 
far,  from  a  "  wearied"  one :  and  I  would 
fain  direct  the  attention  of  every  one 
who  peruses  these  sheets  to  their  col- 
lections, whether  great  or  small,  and 
express  an  earnest  desire  to  be  favoured 
with  something1  from  their  stores ;  in 
truth,  the  best  evidence  of  their  receiving 
my  sheets  favourably  will  be  their  con- 
tributions towards  them.  While  I  am 
setting  together  and  arranging  materials 
for  articles  that  will  interest  the  public 
quite  as  much  as  any  I  have  laid  before 
them,  f  hope  for  the  friendly  aid  of  well- 
wishers  to  the  work,  and  urgently  solicit 
their  communications. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  59  '75. 


14. 

1823.  Trinity  Term  ends. 

CHEAP  TRAVELLING. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book. 
Newark,  May  17,  1826. 

Sir, — The  following  singular  circum- 
stance may  be  relied  on  as  a  fact.  The 
individual  it  relates  to  was  well  known 
upon  the  turf.  I  recollect  him  myself, 
and  once  saw  the  present  venerable 
Earl  of  Fitzvvilliam,  on  Stamford  race- 
course, humorously  inquire  of  him  how 
he  got  his  conveyance,  in  allusion  to 
the  undermentioned  circumstance,  and 
present  him  with  a  guinea. — I  am,  &c. 
BENJ.  JOHNSON. 

John  Kilburn,  a  person  well  known 
on  the  turf  as  a  list  seller,  &c.,  was  at  a 
town  in  Bedfordshire,  and,  as  the  turf 
phrase  is,  "quite  broke  down."  It  was 
during  harvest,  and  the  week  before 
Richmond  races  (Yorkshire),  whither 
he  was  travelling,  and  near  which  place 
he  was  born :  to  arrive  there  in  time  he 
hit  on  the  following  expedient. — He. 
applied  to  an  acquaintance  of  his,  a 
blacksmith,  to  stamp  on  a  padlock  the 
words  '  Richmond  Gaol,'  with  which, 
and  a  chain  fixed  to  one  of  his  legs,  he 
composedly  went  into  a  corn-field  to 
sleep.  As  he  expected,  he  was  soon 
apprehended  and  taken  before  a  magis- 
trate, who,  after  some  deliberation,  or- 
dered two  constables  to  guard  him  in  a 
carriage  to  Richmond.  No  time  was  to 
be  lost,  for  Kilburn  said  he  had  not  been 
tried,  and  hoped  they  would  not  let  him 
lay  till  another  assize.  The  constables, 


on  their  arrival  at  the  gao},  accosted  the 
keeper  with  "  Sir,  do  you  know  this 
man  ?"  "  Yes,  very  well,  it  is  Kilburn  ; 
I  have  known  him  many  years."  "  We 
suppose  he  has  broken  out  of  your  gaol, 
as  he  has  a  chain  and  padlock  on  with 
your  mark.  Is  not  he  a  prisoner  ?"  "  I 
never  heard  any  harm  of  him  in  my 
life."  "  Nor,"  says  Kilburn,  "  have  these 
gentlemen  :  Sir,  "they  have  been  so  good 
as  to  bring  me  out  of  Bedfordshire,  and 
I  will  not  put  them  to  further  inconve- 
nience. I  have  got  the  key  of  the  pad- 
lock, and  I  will  not  trouble  them  to  un- 
lock it.  I  am  obliged  to  them  for  their 
kind  behaviour."  He  travelled  in  this 
way  about  one  hundred  and  seventy 
miles. 

This  anecdote  has  been  seen  before, 
perhaps,  but  it  is  now  given  on  authority. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  59  '67. 


15. 

SUMMER  MERRIMENT. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-day  Book. 

Sir,  —  You  have  inserted  in  vol.  i. 
p.  559,  an  interesting  account  of  the 
Morris  Dance  in  the  "  olden  times," 
and  1  was  rather  disappointed  on  a 
perusal  of  your  extensive  Index,  by  not 
finding  a  "  few  more  words"  respecting 
the  Morris  Dancers  of  our  day  and 

feneration.  I  think  this  custom  is  of 
Toorish  origin,  and  might  have  been 
introduced  into  this  country  in  the 
middle  ages.  Bailey  says,  "  the  Morris 
Dance  is  an  antic  dance  performed  by 
five  men  and  a  boy,  dressed  in  girl's 
clothes."  The  girlish  part  of  it  is,  how- 
ever, more  honoured  in  "  the  breach 
than  the  observance." 

In  June,  1826,  I  observed  a  company 
of  these  "  bold  peasantry,  the  country's 
pride,"  in  Rosoman  -street,  Clerkenwell. 
They  consisted  of  eight  young  men,  six 
of  whom  were  dancers  ;  the  seventh 
played  the  pipe  and  tabor  ;  and  the 
eighth,  the  head  of  them,  collected  the 
pence  in  his  hat,  and  put  the  precious 
metal  into  the  slit  of  a  tin  painted  box, 
under  lock  and  key,  suspended  before 
him.  The  tune  the  little  rural-noted 
pipe  played  to  the  gentle  pulsations  of 
the  tabor,  is  called 

"  Moll  in  the  wad  and  I  fell  out, 
And  what  d'ye  think  it  was  abou.." 


793 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  16. 


794 


This  may  be  remembered  as  one  of  the 
once  popular  street  songs  of  the  late 
Charles  Dibdin's  composition.  The 
dancers  wore  party-coloured  ribands 
round  their  hats,  arms,  and  knees,  to 
which  a  row  of  small  latten  bells  were 
appended,  somewhat  like  those  which 
are  given  to  amuse  infants  in  teeth- 
cutting,  that  tinkled  with  the  motion 
of  the  wearers.  These  rustic  adventu- 
rers "  upon  the  many-headed  town," 
came  from  a  village  in  Hertfordshire. 
Truly  natural  and  simple  in  appearance, 
their  features,  complexion,  dress,  and 
attitude,  perfectly  corresponded.  Here 
was  no  disguise,  no  blandishment,  no 
superhuman  effort.  Their  shape  was  not 
compressed  by  fashion,  nor  did  their 
hearts  flutter  in  an  artificial  prison.  Na- 
ture represented  them  about  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  as  her  seasoned  sons,  hand- 
ing down  to  posterity,  by  their  exercises 
before  the  present  race,  the  enjoyment 
of  their  forefathers,  and  the  tradition  of 
happy  tenantry  "  ere  power  grew  high, 
and  times  grew  bad."  The  "  set-to,"  as 
they  termed  it,  expressed  a  vis-a-vis  ad- 
dress ;  they  then  turned,  returned,  clapp- 
ed their  hands  before  and  behind,  and 
made  a  jerk  with  the  knee  and  foot  alter- 
nately, 

"  Till  toe  and  heel  no  longer  moved." 
Though   the   streets  were  dirty  and   the 
rain  fell  reluctantly,  yet  they  heeded  not 
the  elemental  warfare,  but 
*'  Danced  and  smiled,  and  danced  and  smiled 
again :" 

hence  their  ornaments,  like  themselves, 
looked  weather-beaten.  Crowds  collected 
round  them.  At  12  o'clock  at  noon, 
this  was  a  rare  opportunity  for  the  school- 
boys let  out  of  their  seats  of  learning 
and  confinement.  The  occasional  huzza, 
like  Handel's  "  Occasional  Overture,"  so 
pleasing  to  the  ear  of  liberty,  almost 
drowned  the  *  Morris."  But  at  intervals 
the  little  pretty  pipe  drew  the  fancy,  as 
it  were,  piping  to  a  flock  in  the  valley  by 
the  shade  of  sweet  trees  and  the  bosom 
of  the  silver  brook.  O  !  methought, 
what  difference  is  here  by  comparison 
with  the  agile-limbed  aerials  of  St. 
James's  and  these  untutored  clowns ! 
Yet  something  delightful  comes  home  to 
the  breast,  and  speaks  to  the  memory  of 
a  rural-born  creature,  and  recals  at  hou- 
sand  dear  recollections  of  hours  gone 
down  the  voyage  of  life  into  eternity  ! 
To  a  Londoner,  too,  the  novelty  does 


not  weary  by  its  voluntary  offering  to 
their  taste,  and  apposition  to  the  season. 
Lubin  Brown,  the  piper,  was  an  arch 
dark-featured  person  ;  his  ear  was  alive 
to  Doric  melody  ;  and  he  merrily  played 
and  tickled  the  time  to  his  note.  When 
he  stopped  to  take  breath,  his  provincial 
dialect  scattered  his  wit  among  the  gapers, 
and  his  companions  were  well  pleased 
with  their  sprightly  leader.  Spagnioletti, 
nor  Cramer,  could  do  no  more  by  sound 
nor  Listen,  nor  Yates,  by  grimace.  I 
observed  his  eye  ever  alert  to  the  move- 
ment and  weariness  of  his  six  choice 
youths.  He  was  a  chivalrous  fellow  :  he 
had  won  the  prize  for  "  grinning  through 
a  horse  collar"  at  the  revel,  thrown  his 
antagonist  in  the  "  wrestling  ring,"  and 
"jumped  twenty  yards  in  a  sack"  to  the 
mortification  of  his  rivals,  who  lay  van- 
quished on  the  green.  The  box-keeper, 
though  less  dignified  than  Mr.  Spring,  of 
Drury-lane,  informed  me  that  "he  and 
his  companions  in  sport"  had  charmed 
the  village  lasses  round  the  maypole,  and 
they  intended  sojourning  in  town  a  week 
or  two,  after  which  the  box  would  be 
opened,  and  an  equitable  division  take 
place,  previously  to  the  commencement 
of  mowing  and  hay-harvest.  He  said  it 
was  the  third  year  of  their  .pilgrimage ; 
that  they  had  never  disputed  on  the 
road,  and  were  welcomed  home  by  their 
sweethearts  and  friends,  to  whom  they 
never  omit  the  carrying  a  seasonable  gift 
in  a  very  humble  "  Forget  me  not ! "  or 
"  Friendship's  Offering/' 

Mr.  Editor,  I  subscribe  myself, 
Yours,  very  sincerely. 

J.  R.  P. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  55. 


Suite  16 

CHRONOLOGY. 

June  16,  1722,  the  great  duke  o. 
Marlborough  died.  (See  vol.  i.,  p.  708.) 
Among  the  "  Original  Papers,"  published 
by  Macpherson,  is  a  letter  of  the  duke's 
to  king  James  II.,  whom  he  "  deserted 
in  his  utmost  need"  for  the  service  ot 
king  William,  wherein  he  betrays  to 
his  old  master  the  design  of  his  new  one 
against  Brest  in  1694.  This  communi- 
cation, if  intercepted,  might  have  termi- 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  17 


796 


nated  the  duke's  career,  and  we  should 
nave  heard  nothing  of  his  "  wars  in 
Flanders."  It  appears,  further,  that  the 
duke's  intrigues  were  suspected  by  king 
William,  and  were  the  real  grounds  of 
his  imprisonment  in  the  Tower  two  years 
before. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  59 '12. 

Sum  17. 

ST.  BOTOLPH. 

This  English  saint,  whose  festival  is 
on  this  day,  with  his  brother  Adulph, 
another  saint,  travelled  into  Belgic  Gaul, 
where  Adulph  became  bishop  of  Maes- 
tricht,  and  Botolph  returned  home  with 
news  of  the  religious  houses  he  had  seen 
abroad,  and  recommendations  from  the 
two  sisters  of  Ethelmund,  king  of  the 
south  Saxons,  who  resided  in  France, 
to  their  brother  in  England.  Ethel- 
mund gave  him  a  piece  of  land  near 
Lincoln,  called  Icanhoe,  "a  forsaken 
uninhabited  desert,  where  nothing  but 
devills  and  goblins  were  thought  to 
dwell :  but  St.  Botolphe,  with  the  virtue 
and  sygne  of  the  holy  crosse,  freed  it 
from  the  possession  of  those  hellish  in- 
habitants, and  by  the  means  and  help  of 
Ethelmund,  built  a  monasterie  therein." 
Of  this  establishment  of  the  order  of 
St.  Benedict,  St.  Botolph  became  abbot. 
He  died  on  this  day  in  June,  680,  and 
was  buried  in  his  monastery,  which  is 
presumed  by  some  to  have  been  at 
Botolph's  bridge,  now  called  Bottle- 
bridge,  in  Huntingdonshire ;  by  others, 
at  Botolph's  town,  now  corruptly  called 
Boston  in  Lincolnshire;  ard  again,  its 
situation  is  said  to  have  been  towards 
Sussex.  Boston  seems,  most  probably, 
to  have  been  the  site  of  his  edifice. 

St.  Botolph's  monastery  having  been 
destroyed  by  the  Danes,  his  relics  were 
in  part  carried  to  the  monastery  of  Ely, 
and  part  to  that  of  Thorney.  Alban 
Butler,  who  affirms  this,  afterwards  ob- 
serves that  Thorney  Abbey,  situated  in 
Cambridgeshire,  founded  in  972,  in  ho- 
nour of  St.  Mary  and  St.  Botolph,  was 
one  of  those  whose  abbots  sat  in  par- 
liament, that  St.  Botolph  was  interred 
there,  and  that  Thorney  was  anciently 
called  Ancarig,  that  is,  the  Isle  of  An- 
chorets. It  may  here  be  remarked,  how- 
ever, that  Westminst&r  was  anciently 


called  Thoraey,  from  its  having  been 
covered  by  briars;  and  that  the  last- 
written  "  History  of  Boston"  refers  to 
Capgrave,  as  saying,  "  that  in  the  book 
of  the  church  of  St.  Botolph,  near  Al- 
dersgate,  London,  there  is  mention  how 
a  part  of  the  body  of  St.  Botolph  was, 
by 'king  Edward  ot  happy  memory,  con- 
ferred on  the  church  of  St.  Peter  in 
Westminster."  Father  Porter,  in  his 
"  Flowers  of  the  Saincts,"  says,  "  it  hath 
been  found  written  in  the  booke  of  St. 
Botolphe's  church,  near  Aldersgate,  in 
London,  that  part  of  his  holy  bodie  was 
by  king  Edward  given  to  the  abbey  of 
Winchester"  The  editor  of  the  E very- 
Day  Book  possessed  "  the  register  book 
of  the  church  of  St.  Botolph,  near  Al- 
dersgate," when  he  wrote  on  "  Ancient 
Mysteries,"  in  which  work  the  manu- 
script is  described :  it  wanted  some 
leaves,  and  neither  contained  the  entry 
mentioned  by  Capgrave,  nor  mentioned 
the  disposition  of  the  relics  of  St.  Bo- 
tolph. Besides  the  places  already  no- 
ticed, various  others  throughout  the 
country  are  named  after  St.  Botolph, 
and  particularly  four  parishes  of  the 
city  of  London,  namely,  in  Aldersgate 
before  mentioned,  Aldgate,  Billingsgate, 
and  Bishopsgate.  Butler  says  nothing 
of  his  miracles,  but  Father  Porter  men- 
tions him  as  having  been  "famous  for 
miracles  both  in  this  life  and  after  his 
death." 

LADY'S  DRESS  IN  1550. 

The  gentleman  whose  museum  fur- 
nished the  Biddenden  cake,  obligingly 
transmits  an  extract  from  some  papers 
in  his  collection,  relative  to  a  wedding 
on  this  day. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — Perhaps  the  following  account  of 
the  dresses  of  a  lady  in  olden  time  may 
be  interesting  to  your  readers  : — 

The  wedding-clothes  of  Miss  Eliz. 
Draper,  1550,  a  present  from  her  hus- 
band, John  Bowyer,  Esq.  of  Lincoln's- 
inn  : — 

"  Wedyn-apparrell  bought  for  my 
wyfFe,  Elizabeth  Draper,  the  youn- 
ger, of  Camberwell,  against  17° 
die  Junii,  anno  Domini,  1550, 
with  disperisalls. 

First,  4  ells  of  tawney  taffeta,  at     *.  d. 
11s.  6d.  the  ell,  for  the  Ve- 
nyce  gowne.          .     .     .     .     46  0 


79' 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  18. 


798 


22  6 


6  8 


*.     d. 

Item,  4  yardes  of  silk  Chamlett 
crymson,  at  7*.  Qd.  the  yard, 
for  a  kyitle 52  6 

Item,  one  yard  and  a  half  of  taw- 
ney  velvet,  to  gard  the  Ve- 
nyce  gowne,  at  15*.  the 
yard 

Item,  half  a  yard  of  crymsyn  sa- 
tin, for  the  fore-slyves  .  . 

Item,  8  yards  of  russel's  black,  at 
4s.  6d.  the  yard,  for  a  Dutch 
gowne 35  0 

Item,  half  a  yard  of  tawney  sattyn       5  0 

Item,  a  yard  and  a  quarter  of  vel- 
vet black,  to  guard  the  Dutch 
gowne 17  8 

Item,  6  yards  of  tawney  damaske, 

at  11*.  the  yard  ....  66  0 

Item,  one  yard  and  half  a  quarter 
of  skarlett,  for  a  pety  cote 
with  plites 20  0 

Amounting  to  .  .  .  271  4 
The  wedding-ring  is  described  as 
weighing  "  two  angels  and  a  duckett," 
graven  with  these  words,  "  Deus  noa 
junxit,  J.E.B.Y.R."  The  date  of  the 
marriage  is  inserted  by  Mr.  B.  wuh  great 
minuteness  (at  the  hour  of  eight,  the  do- 
minical letter  F.  the  moon  being  in  Leo), 
with  due  regard  to  the  aspects  of  the 
heavens,  which  at  that  time  regulated 
every  affair  of  importance. 

I  am,  &c. 
June  5,  1826.  J.  I.  A.  F. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  .  59  •  55. 

3une  18. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  18th  of  June,  1805,  died 
Arthur  Murphy,  Esq.,  barrister  at 
'aw,  and  bencher  of  Lincoln's-inn ;  a 
dramatic  and  miscellaneous  writer  of 
considerable  celebrity.  He  was  born  at 
Cork,  in  1727,  and  educated  in  the  col- 
lege of  St.  Omers,  till  his  18th  year,  and 
was  at  the  head  of  the  Latin  class  when 
he  quitted  the  school.  He  was  likewise 
well  acquainted  with  the  Greek  lan- 
guage. On  his  return  to  Ireland  he  was 
sent  to  London,  and  placed  under  the 
protection  of  a  mercantile  relation ;  but 
literature  and  the  stage  soon  drew  his 
attention,  and  wholly  absorbed  his  mind. 
The  success  of  hiy  first  tragedy,  "The 


Orphan  of  China,"  enabled  him  to  dis- 
charge some  pecuniary  obligations  he 
had  incurred,  and  he  made  several 
attempts  to  acquire  reputation  as  an 
actor;  but,  though  he  displayed  judg- 
ment, he  wanted  powers,  and  was  bru- 
tally attacked  by  Churchill,  from  mo- 
tives of  party  prejudice.  Mr.  Murphy 
in  a  very  humorous  ode  to  the  naiads 
of  Fleet-ditch,  intituled  "Expostula- 
tion," vindicated  his  literary  character. 
He  withdrew  from  the  stage,  studied 
the  law,  made  two  attempts  to  become 
a  member  of  the  Temple  and  of  Gray's- 
inn,  and  was  rejected,  on  the  illiberal 
plea  that  he  had  been  upon  the  stage. 
More  elevated  sentiments  in  the  mem- 
bers of  Lincoln's-inn  admitted  him  to 
the  bar,  but  the  dramatic  muse  so  much 
engaged  his  attention,  that  the  law  was 
a  secondary  consideration.  He  wrote 
twenty-two  pieces  for  the  stage,  most  of 
which  were  successful,  and  several  are 
stock  pieces.  He  first  started  into  the 
literary  world  with  a  series  of  essays, 
intituled  "  The  Gray's-inn  Journal."  At 
one  period  he  was  a  political  writer, 
though  without  putting  his  name  to  his 
productions.  He  produced  a  Latin  ver- 
sion of  "  The  Temple  of  Fame/'  and  of 
Gray's  "Elegy,"  and  a  well-known  trans- 
lation  of  the  works  of  Tacitus.  He 
was  the  intimate  of  Foote  and  Garrick, 
whose  life  he  wrote.  He  had  many 
squabbles  with  contemporary  wits,  par- 
ticularly the  late  George  Steevens,  Esq.; 
but,  though  he  never  quietly  received  a 
blow,  he  was  never  the  first  to  give 
one.  Steevens's  attack  he  returned  with 
abundant  interest.  His  friend  Mr.  Jesse 
Foot,  whom  he  appointed  his  execu- 
tor, and  to  whom  he  entrusted  all  his 
manuscripts,  says,  "He  lived  in  the 
closest  friendship  with  the  most  polished 
authors  and  greatest  lawyers  of  his 
time;  his  knowledge  of  the  classics  was 
profound  ;  his  translations  of  the  Roman 
historians  enlarged  his  fame;  his  dra- 
matic productions  were  inferior  to  none 
of  the  time  in  which  he  flourished.  The 
pen  of  the  poet  was  particularly  adorned 
by  the  refined  taste  of  the  critic.  He 
was  author  of  *  The  Orphan  of  China,' 
'The  Grecian  Daughter,'  'All  in  the 
Wrong/  'The  Way  to  keep  Him/ 
'  Know  your .  own  Mind/  '  Three 
Weeks  after  Marriage/  'The  Appren- 
tice/ '  The  Citizen/  and  many  other 
esteemed  dramatic  productions."  He  had 
a  pension  of  200?.  a  vear  from  go- 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  19,20. 


£00 


vernment  during  the  last  (hive  years  of 
his  life;  and  was  a  commissioner  of  bank- 
rupts. His  manners  were  urbane,  and 
if  he  ^sometimes  showed  warmth  of 
temper,  his  heart  was  equally  warm 
towards  his  friends. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature   .  .  .  60M7 

3une  19. 

1826. — GENERAL  ELECTION. 
The  united  kingdom  may  be  said  to 
be  in  uproar,  wherever  the  electors  are 
solicited  for  their  "  sweet  voices."  One 
place  latterly  seems  to  be  without  a  can- 
didate ;  viz.  "the  ancient  and  honorable 
borough  of  Garret!,"  situate  near  the 
Leather  Bottle  in  Garrett  Lane,  in  the 
parish  of  Wandsworth,  in  the  county  of 


Surrey.  Informal  ion  to  the  Editor  re- 
specting former  elections  forGanett,aii(i 
especially  any  of  the  printed  addresses, 
advertisements,  or  hand  bills,  if  com- 
municated to  the  Editor  of  the  Every' 
Day  Book  immediately,  will  enable  him 
to  complete  a  curious  article  in  the 
next  sheet.  Particulars  respecting  Sir 
JefFery  Dunstan,  Sir  Harry  Dimsdale, 
Sir  George  Cook,  Sir  John  Horn  Conch, 
baronets,  or  other  "  public  characters" 
who  at  any  time  had  the  honour  to  re- 
present Garrett,  will  be  very  acceptable, 
but  every  thing  of  the  sort  should  be 
forwarded  without  an  hour's  delay. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  59  77. 

Sfune  20. 


Custom  at  Dunmoto*  m 


On  this  day,  in  the  year  1751,  a  flitch 
of  bacon  was  claimed  at  Dunmow,  in 
Essex,  by  a  man  and  his  wife,  who  had 
the  same  delivered  to  them  as  of  right, 
according  to  ancient  custom,  on  the 
ground  that  they  had  not  quarrelled, 
nor  had  either  repented,  nor  had  one 


their  marriage.  —  The  above  Engraving 
is  after  a  large  print  by  C.  Mosley, 
"  from  an  original  painting  taken  on 
the  spot  by  David  Ogborne,"  which 
print  represents  the  procession  of  the 
last-mentioned  claimants  on  their  re- 
turn  from  Dunmow  church  with  the 


offended   the    other,   from  the   day  of     flitch. 


801 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—JUNE  20. 


SO* 


Ogborne's  print,  from  whence  the 
preceding  engraving  is  taken,  bears 
this  inscription  : — 

"  An  exact  Perspective  View  of  DUN- 
MOW,  late  the  Priory  in  the  county  of 
Essex,  with  a  Representation  of  the 
Ceremony  &  Procession  in  that  Man- 
nor,  on  Thursday  the  20  of  June  1751 
when  Thomas  Shakeshaft  of  the  Parish 
of  Weathersfield  in  the  county  aforesaid, 
Weaver,  &  Ann  his  Wife  came  to  de- 
mand and  did  actually  receive  a  Gam- 
mon of  Bacon,  having  first  kneeltdown 
upon  two  bare  stones  within  the  Church 
door,  and  taken  the  said  Oath  pursuant 
to  the  ancient  custom  in  manner  &  form 
prescribed  as  aforesaid."  A  short  ac- 
count of  this  custom  precedes  the  above 
inscription. 

Mr.  Brand  speaks  of  his  possessing 
Ogborne's  print,  and  of  its  having  be- 
come "  exceedingly  rare  ;"  he  further 
cites  it  as  being  inscribed  "  Taken  on 
the  spot  and  engraved  by  David  Og- 
borne."  Herein  he  mistakes ;  for,  as 
regards  Ogborne,  both  old  and  mo- 


dern impressions  are  inscribed  as  already 
quoted  in  the  preceding  column:  in  the 
old  impression  "  C.  Mosley  sculp1." 
stands  below  *'  the  oath  "  in  verse,  at 
the  right  hand  corner  of  the  plate;  and 
in  the  modern  one  it  is  erased  from  that 
part  and  placed  at  the  same  corner 
above  "the  oath,"  and  immediately  under 
the  engraving;  the  space  it  occupied  is 
supplied  by  the  words  "  Republish'd 
OcfSSth.  1826  by  II.  Cribb,  288  Hoi- 
born":  its  original  note  of  publication 
remains,  viz.  "  Publish'd  according  to 
Act  of  Parliament  Jan^x.  1752."  The 
print  is  now  common. 

Mr.  Brand,  or  his  printer,  further  mis- 
takes the  name  of  the  claimant  on  the 
print,  for,  in  the  "Popular  Antiquities" 
lie  quotes  it  "  Shapeshaft"  instead  of 
"  ShaAteshaft ;"  and  he  omits  to  mention 
a  larger  print,  of  greater  rarity  in  his 
time,  "sold  by  John  Bowles  Map  & 
Printseller  in  Coruhill,"  entitled  •«  The 
Manner  of  claimingthe  Gamon  of  Bacon 
&c  by  Tho6.  Shakeshaft,  and  Anne  his 
wife  "  which  it  thus  represents  :— 


last  tafemg  of  tf>e  ©atft  at  Btmwato, 


FOR    THE    GAMMON    OF    BACON. 


VOL.  II.— 78. 


803 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. -JUNG  20. 


804 


FORM    OF    THE    OATH. 

You  shall  swear  by  Custom  of  Confession, 
If  ever  you  made  nuptial  trangression  : 
Be  you  either  married  man  or  wife, 
By    household    brawles    or    contentious 

strife, 

Or  otherwise  in  bed,  or  at  boord, 
Offend  each  other  in  deed,  or  word  ; 
Or  since  the  parish  Clwk  said  Amen, 
You  wish't  yourselves  unmarried  agen  : 
Or  in  a  twelve  moneths  time  and  a  day 
Repented  not  in  thought  any  way  : 
But  continued  true  and  just  in  desire 
As  when  you  joyned   hands  in  the  holy 

quire 

If  to  these  conditions  without  all  feare, 
Of  your     own    accord    you    will    freely 

sweare, 
A   whole    Gammon    of  Bacon  you  shall 

receive, 
And  bear  it  henceforth  with  love  and  good 

leave. 
For  this  is  our  Custome  at  Dunmow  well 

known, 
Though  the  pleasure  be  ours,  the  Bacon's 

your  own. 

On  the  taking  of  this  oath,  which  is 
cited  by  an  old  county  historian,*  and 
somewhat  varies  from  the  verses  beneath 
the  before-mentioned  prints,  the  swear- 
ers were  entitled  to  the  flitch,  or 
gammon. 

The  "  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  of 
1751,  mentions  that  on  this  day  **  John 
Shakeshanks,  woolcomber,  and  Anne 
his  wife,  of  the  parish  of  Weathersfield, 
in  Essex,  appeared  at  the  customary 
court  at  Dunmow-parva,  and  claim'd 
the  bacon  according  to  the  custom  of 
that  manor."  This  is  all  the  notice  of 
the  last  claim  in  that  miscellany,  but 
the  old  "  London  Magazine,"  of  the 
same  year,  adds,  that  "  Ihe  bacon  was 
delivered  to  them  with  the  usual  form- 
alities." It  is  remarkable  that  in  both 
these  magazines  the  parties  are  named 
"  Shakeshanks."  On  reference  to  the 
court-roll,  the  real  name  appears  to  be 
Shakeshaft. 

Ogborne's  print  affirms  that  this  cus- 
tom was  instituted  in  or  about  the  year 
1111,  by  Robert,  son  of  Richard  Fitz 
Gilbert,  Earl  of  Clare:  but  as  regards 
the  date,  which  is  in  the  time  of  Henry 
I.,  the  statement  is  inaccurate;  for  if  it 
originated  with  Robert  Fitzwalter,  as 
hereafter  related,  he  did  not  live  till  the 
time  of  "  King  Henry,  son  of  King 

*  Plott,  in  his  Staffordshire,  from  History  of  Ro- 
bert Fitzwalter.  Lend.  1616. 


John,"    who  commenced   his  reign  in 
1199,  and  was  Henry  III. 

Concerning  the  ceremony,  the  print 
goes  on  to  describe,  that  after  delivering 
the  bacon,  "  the  happy  pair  are  taken 
upon  men's  shoulders,  in  a  chair  kept 
for  that  purpose,  and  carried  round  the 
scite  of  the  priory,  from  the  church  to 
the  house,  with  drums,  minstrells,  and 
other  musick  playing,  and  the  gammon 
of  bacon  borne  on  a  high  pole  before 
them,  attended  by  the  steward,  gentle- 
men, and  officers  of  the  manor,  with  the 
several  inferior  tenants,  carrying  wands, 
&c.,  and  a  jury  of  bachelors  and  maidens 
(being  six  of  each  sex)  walking  two  and 
two,  with  a  great  multitude  of  other 
people,  young  and  old,  from  all  the 
neighbouring  towns  and  villages  there- 
abouts, and  several  more  that  came 
from  very  great  distances  (to  the  amount 
of  many  thousands  in  the  whole),  with 
shouts  and  acclamations,  following.  * 

The  chair  in  which  the  successful 
candidates  for  "  the  bacon "  were 
seated,  after  obtaining  the  honourable 
testimony  of  their  connubial  happiness, 
is  made  of  oak,  and  though  large,  seems 
hardly  big  enough  for  any  pair,  but 
such  as  had  given  proofs  of  their  mutual 
good-nature  and  affection.  It  is  still 
preserved  in  Dunmow  Church,  and 
makes  part  of  the  admiranda  of  tha. 
place.  It  is  undoubtedly  of  great  an- 
tiquity, probably  the  official  chair  of  the 
prior,  or  that  of  the  lord  of  the  manor, 
in  which  he  held  the  usual  courts,  and 
received  the  suit  and  service  of  his 
tenants.  There  is  an  engraving  of  the 
chair  in  the  "  Antiquarian  Repertory," 
from  whence  this  notice  of  it  is  ex- 
tracted :  it  in  no  way  differs  from  the 
chief  chairs  of  ancient  halls. 

Of  "the  bacon,"  it  is  stated,  on  Og- 
borne's print,  that  "  before  the  dissolu- 
tion of  monasteries,  it  does  not  appear, 
by  searching  the  most  ancient  records, 
to  have  been  demanded  above  three 
times,  and,  including  this  (demand  of 
Shakeshaft's)  just  as  often  since."  These 
demands  are  particularized  by  Dugdale, 
from  a  manuscript  in  the  College  of 
Arms.t  to  the  following  effect: — 

"Robt.  Fitzwalter,  living  long  beloved 
of  king  Henry,  son  of  king  John,  as  also 

*  Inscription  on  Ogborne's  Print. 
L.  14,  page  226. 


805 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  20 


800 


Df  all  the  realme,  betook  himself  in  his 
latter  dayes  to  prayer  and  deeds  of  cha- 
rity, gave  great  and  bountifull  alms  to 
the  poor,  kept  great  hospitality,  and  re- 
edified  the  decayed  prison  (priory)  of 
Dunmow,  which  one  Juga  (Baynard), 
a  most  devout  and  religious  woman, 
being  in  her  kinde  his  ancestor,  had 
builded  ;  in  which  prison  (priory)  arose 
a  custome,  begun  and  instituted,  eyther 
by  him,  or  some  other  of  his  successours, 
which  is  verified  by  a  common  proverb 
or  saying,  viz. — That  he  which  repents 
him  not  of  his  marriage,  either  sleeping 
or  waking,  in  a  year  and  a  day,  may 
lawfully  go  to  Dunmow  and  fetch  a 
gammon  of  bacon.  It  is  most  assured 
that  such  a  custome  there  was,  and  that 
this  bacon  was  delivered  with  such  so- 
lemnity and  triumphs  as  they  of  the 
priory  and  the  townsmen  could  make. 
I  have  enquired  of  the  manner  of  it,  and 
can  learne  no  more  but  that  it  continued 
imtill  the  dissolution  of  that  house,  as 
also  the  abbies.  And  that  the  party  or 
pilgrim  for  bacon  was  to  take  his  oath 
before  prior  and  convent,  and  the  whole 
town,  humbly  kneeling  in  the  church' 
yard  upon  two  hard  pointed  stones,  which 
stones,  some  say,  are  there  yet  to  be 
seen  in  the  prior's  church-yard ;  his 
oath  was  ministered  with  sucli  long  pro- 
cess, and  such  solemne  singing  over  him, 
that  doubtless  must  make  his  pilgrimage 
(as  1  may  term  it)  painfull :  after,  he  was 
taken  up  upon  men's  shoulders,  and  car- 
ried, first  about  the  priory  church-yard, 
and  after,  through  the  town  with  all  the 
fryers  and  brethren,  and  all  the  town's- 
folke,  young  and  old,  following  him  with 
shouts  and  acclamations,  with  his  bacon 
borne  before  him,  and  in  such  manner 
(as  I  have  heard)  was  sent  home  with 
his  bacon;  of  which  I  find  that  some 
had  a  gammon,  and  others  a  flecke,  or 
a  flitch;  for  proof  whereof  I  have,  from 
the  records  of  the  house,  found  the  names 
of  three  several  persons  that  at  several 
times  had  it." 

Anno 23.  Henry  VI.  14454one  Richard 
Wright  of  Badbury,  near  the  city  of 
Norwich  in  the  county  of  Norfolk,  la- 
bourer (Plebeius)  came  to  Dunmow  and 
required  the  bacon,  to  wit,  on  the  27 Ih 
of  April,  in  the  23d  year  of  the  reign  of 
King  Henry  VT.  and  according  to  the 
,orm  of  the  charter  was  sworn  before 
John  Cannon,  prior  of  the  place  and  the 
convent,  and  very  many  other  neigh- 
bours, and  there  was  delivered  to  him, 


the  said  Richard  a  side  or  flitch  of 
bacon. 

Anno  7  Edw.  IV.  1467,  one  Stephen 
Samuel  of  Ayston-Parva,  in  the  county 
of  Essex,  husbandman,  on  the  day  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin  in  Lent  (25th  March) 
in  the  7th  year  of  king  Edward  IV. 
came  to  the  priory  of  Dunmow,  and  re- 
quired a  gammon  of  bacon  ;  and  he  was 
sworn  before  Roger  Bulcott,  then  prior 
of  the  place  and  the  convent,  and  also 
before  a  multitude  of  other  neighbours, 
and  there  was  delivered  to  him  a  gam- 
mon of  bacon. 

Anno  2  Hen.  VIII.  1510,  Thomas  le 
Fuller  of  Cogshall,  in  the  county  of 
Essex,  came  to  the  priory  of  Dunmow, 
and  on  the  8th  day  of  September,  being 
Sunday,  in  the  2d  year  of  king  Henry 
VIII.  according  to  the  form  of  the  char- 
ter, was  sworn  before  John  Tils,  then 
Prior  of  the  house  and  the  convent,  and 
also  before  a  multitude  of  neighbours, 
and  there  was  delivered  to  him,  the  said 
Thomas,  a  gammon  of  bacon. 

"  Hereby  it  appeareth,"  Dugdale  says, 
"  that  it  was  according  to  a  charter,  or 
donation,  given  by  some  conceited  be- 
nefactor to  the  house;  and  it  is  not  1o 
be  doubted,  but  that  at  such  a  time,  the 
bordering  towns  and  villages  resorted, 
and  were  partakers  of  their  pastimes, 
and  laughed  to  scorne  the  poore  man's 
pains  *." 


In  a  letter  from  F.  D.  to  "Mr.  Urban," 
Shakeshaft,  alias  Shakeshank,  is  called 
theawc/ewtwoolcomberofWeathersfield, 
and  a  copy  of  the  register  of  the  form 
and  ceremony,  observed  fifty  years  be- 
fore, is  communicated  as  follows: — 

Extract  jrdm  the  Court  Roll. 

*Dunmow,Nuper  A  T  a  court  baron  of 
Prioraf  *^  the  right  worship- 
ful Sir  Thomas  May,  knt.  there  holden 
upon  Friday  the  7th  day  of  June,  in  the 
13th  year  of  the  reign  of  our  sovereign 
lord  William  III.  by  the  grace  of  God, 
&c.  and  in  the  year  of  our  lord  1701, 
before  Thomas  Wheeler,  gent,  steward 
of  the  said  manor,  it  is  thus  enrolled  : 

.  f Elizabeth  Beaumont,  Spinster 
bi>  \Henrietta  Beaumont,  Spinster     '  «- 
g<4nnabella  Beaumont,  Spinster 
^    «7«ne  Beaumont,  Spinster 

*  \Mary  Wheeler,  Spinster 

*  Dug-dale's  Monasticon. 


807 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  20 


808 


"  Be  it  remember'd,  that  at  this  court, 
in  full  and  open  court,  it  is  found,  and 
presented  by  the  homage  aforesaid,  that 
William  Parsley ,  of  Mitch  Easlon  in  the 
county  of  Essex,  butcher,  and  Jane  his 
wife,  have  been  married  for  the  space 
of  three  years  last  past,  and  upward ; 
and  it  is  likewise  found,  presented,  and 
adjudged,  by  the  homage  aforesaid,  that 
the  said  William  Parsley,  and  Jane  his 
wife,  by  means  of  their  quiet,  peaceable, 
tender,  and  loving  cohabitation,  for  the 
space  of  time  aforesaid,  (as  appears  by 
the  said  homage)  are  fit  and  qualify'd 
persons  to  be  admitted  by  the  court  to 
receive  the  antient  and  accustomed 
oath,  whereby  to  entitle  themselves  to 
have  the  bacon  of  Dunmow  delivered 
unto  them,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  manor. 

»«  Whereupon,  at  this  court,  in  full  and 
open  court,  came  the  said  William  Par- 
sley, and  Jane  his  wife,  in  their  proper 
persons,  and  humbly  prayed,  they  might 
be  admitted  to  take  the  oath  aforesaid ; 
whereupon  the  said  steward,  with  the 
jury,  suitors,  and  other  officers  of  the 
court,  proceeded,  with  the  usual  solem- 
nity, to  the  antient  and  accustomed 
place  for  the  administration  of  the  oath, 
and  receiving  the  gammon  aforesaid, 
(that  is  to  say)  the  two  great  stones  ly- 
ing near  the  church  door,  within  the 
said  manor,  where  the  said  William 
Parsley,  and  Jane  his  wife,  kneeling 
down  on  the  said  two  stones,  and  the 
said  steward  did  administer  unto  them 
the  above-mentioned  oath  in  these 
words,  or  to  this  effect  following,  viz. 
You  do  swear  by  custom  ofconfession, 
That  you  ne'er  made  nuptial  transgression. 


Nor  since  you  were  married  man  and  wil\?, 
By     houshold      brawls,    or     contentious 

strife, 

Or  otherwise,  in  bed  or  at  board, 
Offended  each  other  in  deed  or  in  word  ; 
Or  in  a  twelvemonth's  time  and  e  day, 
Repented  not  in  thought  any  way  ; 
Or  since  the  church  clerk  said  Amen, 
Wished  yourselves  unmarried  again, 
But  continued  true,  and  in  desire     • 
As  when  you  joyned  hands  in  holy  quire. 

"And  immediately  thereupon,  the  said 
William  Parsley,  and  Jane  his  wife, 
claiming  the  said  gammon  of  bacon,  the 
court  pronounced  the  sentence  for  the 
same,  in  these  words,  or  to  the  effect 
following — 

Since  to  these  conditions,  without  an? 
fear, 

Of  your  own  accord  you  do  freely  swear, 

A  whole  gammon  of  bacon  you  do  re- 
ceive, 

And  bear  it  away  with  love  and  good 
leave, 

For  this  is  the  custom  of  Dunmow  well 
known ; 

Tho'  the  pleasure  be  ours,  the  bacon's 
your  own. 

"And  accordingly  a  gammon  of  bacon 
was  delivered  unto  the  said  William 
Parsley,  and  Jane  his  wife,  with  the 
usual  solemnity. 

**  Examined  per  Thomas  Wheeler, 
steward." 

The  same  day  a  gammon  was  deli- 
vered to  Mr.  Reynolds,  steward  to  Sir 
Ckarles  Barringion,  of  Hatfield  Broad 
Oak. 

The  custom  of  this  manor  is  comme- 
morated "  in  this  old  distich"  viz. 


tfiat  repents  fiim  not  of  fit's  Jtflarriage  in  a  pear  anfc  a  fcaj)  eftfier 

sleeping  or  foafctng 
lafofullg  goe  to  Bunmofo  anfc  fetcfi  a  gammon  of  23acon, 

of  Tutbury,"  the  whole  whereof  is  here 
set  forth  in  Dr.  Plot's  words,  viz. : 

"  I  find  that  Sr.  Philip  de  Somervih 
10  ofEdw.  3.  held  the  Manors  of  Which" 
novre,  Scirescot,  Ridware  Netherton,  and 
Cowlee,  all  in  Com.  Stafford  of  the  Buries 
of  Lancaster  Lords  of  the  Honor  of  Tnt- 
hury,  by  these  memorable  Services,  viz, 
By  two  small  fees,  that  is  to  say, 

"  When  other  Tenants  pay  for  Re- 
liefe  one  whole  Knight's  fee,  One  hun- 
dred Shillings,  he  the  said  Sir  Phitio 


It  is  further  mentioned  in  "  Piers 
Plowman's  Vision,"  and  Chaucer  refers 
to  it  in  the  following  words: 

The  bacon  was  not  set  for  hem  I  trowe, 
That  some  men  haue   in    Essex  at  Don- 
mowe 

Wife  of  Bath's  Prologue. 

CUSTOM  OF  WHICHNOVRE,  STAPFORDS. 

Bacon  and  Corn. 
There  is  a  similar  us4ge,  in  the  "Honor 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  20. 


810 


shall  pay  but  Fifty  shillings  :  and  when 
Escuage  is  assessed  throgheowtt  the 
land  ;  or  to  Ayde  for  to  make  th'  eldest 
sonne  of  the  Lord,  Knyght  ;  or  for  to 
marry  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  Lord, 
the  said  Sir  Philip  shall  pay  bott  ttye 
tnoitye  of  it  that  other  shall  paye.  Ne- 
vertheless, the  said  Sir  Philip  shall 
fynde,  meyntienge,  and  susteingne  one 
Bacon  flyke,  hanging-  in  his  Hall  at 
fPhichetwore,  redy  arrayede  all  times  of 
the  yere,  bott  (except)  in  Lent ;  to  be 
given  to  everyone  mane,  or  woman  mar- 
ried, after  the  day  and  the  yere  of  their 
marriage  be  passed :  and  to  be  gy  ven 
to  everyche  rnane  of  Religion,  Archbi- 
shop, Bishop,  Prior,  or  other  Religious ; 
and  to  everyche  Freest,  after  the  year 
and  day  of  their  profession  finished,  or 
of  their  dignity  reseyved,  in  Ibrme  fol- 
lowyng.  Whensoever  that  ony  suche 
byforenarned,  wylle  come  for  to  enquire 
for  the  Baconne',  in  there  own  persone  ; 
or  by  any  other  for  them,  they  shall 
come  to  the  Baillyfe,  or  to  the  Porter  of 
the  Lordship  of  fVhichenovre,  and  shall 
say  to  them,  in  the  manere  as  ensew- 
ethe  ; 

"  Baylijfe,    or    Porter -,    /  doo  you  to 
knowe  ;  that  I  am  come  for  my  self 
(or,  if  he  be  come  for  any  other,  shew- 
ing  for   whome)   to   demaunde  one 
Bacon  flykc,  hanging  in  the  Halle, 
of  the  Lord  of   Whichenovre,   after 
the  forme  thereunto  belongyng. 
After  which  relacioun,  the  Baillyffe  or 
Porter  shall  assign  a  day  to  him,  upon 
promyse,  by  his  feythe  to  retourne  ;  and 
with  him  to  bryng  tweyne  of  his  neigh- 
bours. 

•'  And,  in  the  meyu  tyme,  the  said 
Baillitfe  shall  take  with  him  tweyne  of 
the  Freeholders  of  the  Lordship  of 
Whichenovre  ;  and  they  three,  shall  go 
to  the  Manoir  of  Rudlowe,  belongynge 
to  Robert  Knyghtleye,  and  there  shall 
somon  the  forseid  Knyghteley  or  his 
Baillyffe  ;  commanding  him,  to  be  redy 
at  fPhichenovre,  the  day  appointed,  at 
pryme  of  the  day,  withe  his  Caryage  ; 
that  is  to  say,  a  Horse  and  a  Sadylle,  a 
Sakke,  and  a  Pryke,  for  to  convey  and 
carye  the  said  B'aconne,  and  Corne,  a 
iourney  owtt  of  the  Countee  of  Stafford, 
At  hys  costages.  And  then  the  sayd 
Baillyffe,  shall,  with  the  sayd  Free- 
holders, somone  all  the  Tenaunts  of  the 
•aid  Manoir,  to  be  ready  at  the  day  ap- 
poynted,  at  ffhichenovre,  for  to  doo  and 


perform  the  services  which  they  owe  to 
the  Baconne.  And,  at  the  day  assign'd, 
all  such  as  owe  services  to  the  Baconne, 
shall  be  ready  at  the  Gatte  of  the  Ma- 
noir off  VPhichenovre,  frome  the  Sonne- 
rysing  to  None,  attendying  and  awatjn 
for  the  comyng  for  hym,  that  fetcheth 
the  Baconne.  And,  when  he  is  comvn, 
there  shall  be  delivered  to  hym  and  hys 
felowvs,  Chapeletts  ;  and  to  all  those 
whiche  shall  be  there  ;  to  do  their  ser- 
vices deue  to  the  Baconne :  And  they 
shall  lede  the  seid  Demandant  wythe 
Trompes  and  Sabours,  and  other  maner 
of  Mynstralseye,  to  the  Halle-dore, 
where  he  shall  fynde  the  Lord  of  Whi- 
chenovre,  or  his  Steward,  redy  to  deliver 
the  Baconne,  in  this  manere  • — 

"  He   shall  enquere  of  hym,  whiche 
desnandfith    the    Baconne,    yf  he    have 
brought  tvveyn    of  hys    Neghbors  with 
hym.     Whiche  must  answere  ;   They  be 
here  ready.  And  then  the  Steward  shall 
cause    thies   two    Neighbours  to  swere, 
yf  the  seyd    Dernandaunt  be  a  weddyt 
man  ;  or  have  be  a  man  weddyt :  and. 
yf  sythe  his  Marriage,  one  yere  ana  9 
day  be  passed :  and,  yf  he  be  a  freeman, 
or  a  villeyn.     And   yf  hys   seid   iiegrh- 
bours  make  Othe,  that  he  hath  for  hym 
all    thies    three    poynts   rehersed ;  then 
shall  the  Baconne  be  take  downe,  and 
broghte    to    the    Hall-dore ;    and  shall 
there  be  layd  upon  one  halfe  a  Quarter 
of  Wheatte ;  &  upon  one  other  of  Rye, 
And  he    that   demandeth  the  Baconne 
shall  kneel  upon   his  knee  ;    and    shall 
hold   his    right   hand   upon   a    booke ; 
which  booke  shall  be   layde    above   the 
Baconne,    and   the    Corne ;    and    shall 
make  Othe,  in  this  manere. 
"  Here  ye,  Sir  Philippe  de  Somervile, 
Lord  of  Whichenovre,  mayntener  and 
gyver  of  this  Baconne  ;  That  /A. 
sithe  1  Wedded  B.  my  wife,  and  sythe 
I  hadd  hyr  in  my  kepyng,  and  at  my 
wylle,  by  a  yerc  und  a  day,  after  our 
Mariage  ;  I  wold  not  have  chaunged 
for  none  other ;   farer,  ne  fowler ; 
rycher  ne  pourer  ;  ne  for  none  other 
descended  of  greater  lynage  ;   slep- 
yng,  ne  waking,  at  noo  tyme.    And 
yf  the  seyd  B.  were  sole,  and  I  sole, 
1  would  take  her  to  be  my  fPyfe,  be- 
fore alle  the  wymen  of  the  worlde  ;  of 
what    condiciones    soever   they  be ; 
good  or  evylle,  as  helpe  me  God  ond 
hys  Seyntys;  and  thisfleshe,  and  all 
fleshes. 
"  And  hys  neighbors  shall  make  O'b*, 


811 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—JUNE  20. 


that  they  trust  veraly  he  hath  said  truly. 
And,  yff  it  be  founde  by  his  neighbours, 
before-named,  that  he  be  a  Free-man; 
there  shall  be  delyvered  to  him  half  a 
Quarter  of  Wheate,  and  a  Cheese.  And 
yf  he  be  a  villeyn,  he  shall  have  half  a 
Quarter  of  Rye,  wythoutte  Cheese. 
And  then  shall  Knyytitleye,  the  Lord  of 
Rudlowe,  be  called  for,  to  carrye  all 
thiea  thynges,  tofore  rehersed :  And  the 
said  Corne  shall  be  layd  upon  one  horse, 
and  the  Baconne  above  ytt :  and  he  too 
whom  the  Baconne  apperteigneth,  shall 
ascend  upon  his  Horse ;  and  shall  take 
the  Cheese  before  hym,  yf  he  have  a 
dorse:  And,  yf  he  have  none,  the  Lord 
of  Whichenovre  shall  cause  him  have 
one  Horse  and  Sadyll,  to  such  time  as 
he  be  passed  hys  Lordshippe :  and  so 
shalle  they  departe  the  Manoir  of 
Whichenovre,  with  the  Corne  and  the 
Baconne,  tofore  hym  that  hath  wonne 
itt,  with  Trompets,  Tabouretts,  and 
other  maner  of  Mynstralce.  And,  all 
the  Free-Tenants  of  Whichenovre  shall 
conduct  hym,  to  be  passed  the  Lordship 
of  Whichenovre.  And  then  shall  all 
they  retorne ;  except  hym,  to  whom 
apperteigneth  to  make  the  carryage  and 
journey,  wythowtt  the  Countye  of 
Stafford,  at  the  Costys  of  hys  Lord  of 
Whichenovre.  And,  yff  the  sayd  Robert 
Knightley,  do  not  cause  the  Bacorin  and 
Corne,  to  be  conveyed,  as  is  rehersed  j 
the  Lord  of  Whichenovre  shall  do  it  be 
carryed,  and  shall  dystreigne  the  seyd 
Robert  Knyghtley  for  his  defaulte,  for 
one  hundred  shyllings,  in  his  Manoir  of 
Rudlowe ;  and  shalle  kepe  the  distres, 
so  takyn,  irreplevisable. 

"  Moreover,  the  said  Sir  Philippe 
holdeth  of  his  Lorde,  th'  Erie,  the  Ma- 
noir of  Briddleshalle,  by  thies  services; 
that,  attsuch  tyme,  that  hys  sayd  Lorde 
holdeth  hysChrystemes  at  Tutbury,  the 
seyd  Sir  Phelippe  shall  come  to  Tutbury, 
upon  Chrystemasse  Evyn  ;  and  shall  be 
lodged  yn  the  Town  of  Tutbury,  by  the 
Marshall  of  the  Erlys  house:  and  upon 
Chrystymesse-day,  he  himself,  or  some 
othyr  Knyght  (his  Deputye)  shall  go  to 
the  Dressour;  and  shall  serve  to  his 
Lordye  meese:  and  then  shall  he  kerve 
the  same  meet  to  hys  sayd  Lord:  And 
thys  service  shall  he  dooaswell  atSouper, 
asatDynner:  and  when  hys  Lord  hath 
etyn  ;  the  said  Sir  Philippe  shall  sit 
downe,  in  the  same  place,  wheir  hys 
Lord  satt :  and  shalle  be  served  att  hya 
Table,  by  the  Steward  of  th'  Erlys 


house.  And,  upon  Seynt  Stevyn-dayt 
when  he  haith  dyned,  he  shall  takeleve 
of  hys  Lorde,  and  shall  kysse  hym:  and, 
for  hys  service  he  shall  nothing  take,  ne 
nothing  shall  gyve.  And  all  thyes  ser- 
vices, tofore- rehersed,  the  seyd  Sir  Phi- 
lippe hath  doo,  by  the  space  of  xlvin. 
yeres ;  and  hys  ancestors  byfore  hym, 
to  hys  Lordys,  Erlys  of  Lancastre. 

"Item,  the  said  Sir  Philippe  holdeth 
of  his  seid  Lord,  th'Erle,  his  Manoirs  of 
TatenhuH  and  Drycotte,  en  percenerye, 
by  thies  services;  that  the  seid  Sir  Phe- 
lippe,  or  his  Atturney  for  hym,  shall 
come  to  the  Castell  of  Tutburye,  upon 
Seynt  Petyr  day,  in  August,  which  is 
called  Lammesse;  and  shall  shew  the 
Steward,  or  Receiver,  that  he  is  come 
thither  to  hunt,  and  catch  his  Lord's 
Greese,  at  the  costages  of  hys  Lorde. 
Whereupon  the  Steward  or  the  Re- 
ceiver shall  cause  a  Horse  and  Sadylle  to 
be  deliveryd  to  the  sayd  Sir  Phelippc, 
the  price  Fifty  shillings;  or  Fifty  shil- 
lings in  money,  and  one  Hound;  and 
shall  pay  to  the  said  Sir  Phelippe,  every- 
che  day,  fro  the  said  day  of  Seynt  Peter, 
to  Holy  Roode-day,  for  hymself  Two 
shillings  six  pence  a  day;  and  everyche 
day  for  his  servant,  and  his  Bercelett, 
during  the  sayd  time  twelve  pence.  And 
all  the  Wood-masters  of  the  Forest  of 
Nedewode  and  Duffelde,  withe  alle  the 
Parkers  and  Foresters,  shall  becotnman- 
dyd  to  awatte,  and  attend  upon  the  sayd 
Sir  Phelippe,  while  theyre  Lord's  Greese 
be  takyn,  in  all  places  of  the  seyde  Fo- 
restys,  as  upon  their  Master,  during  the 
said  tyme.  And  the  said  Sir  Phelippe, 
or  his  Attorny,  shall  deliver  to  the  said 
Parkers,  or  Foresters,  that  shall  belonge 
to  their  Lordys  Lardere;  commandyng 
them  to  convey  itt  to  the  Erlys  Lardy- 
ner,  abyding  at  Tutbury:  and  with  the 
remenanr,  the  seyd  Sir  Phelippe  shall 
do  hys  plesoure.  And,  upon  Holy-Rood- 
day  the  sayd  Sir  Phelippe  shall  returne 
to  the  Castell  of  Tutbury,  upon  the  said 
Horse,  with  his  Bercelet;  and  shall  dyne 
with  the  Steward  or  Receyver:  and 
after  Dynner  he  shall  dely  ver  the  Horse, 
Sadylle,  and  Bercelett  to  the  Steward 
or  Receyvour  ;  and  shall  kysse  the  Por- 
ter and  depart," 


Having  here  set  forth  these  singular 
usages  in  the  "Pea  season,"  it  may  not 
be  amiss  to  add  the  following —  '  J 


813 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  21. 


814 


Receipt  to  make  Somersetshire  Bacon. 

The  best  time  is  between  September 
and  Christmas.  Procure  a  large  wooden 
trough;  lay  the  ides  of  the  hog  in  the 
trough,  and  sprinkle  them  heavily  with 
bay-salt;  leave  them  twenty-four  hours 
to  drain  away  the  blood,  and  other 
over-abounding  juices.  Then  take  them 
out,  wipe  them  dry,  and  throw  away  the 
drainings.  Take  some  fresh  bay-salt,  and 
heating  it  well  in  an  iron  frying-pan, 
(beware  not  to  use  copper  or  brass 
though  ever  so  well  tinned,)  rub  the 
meat  till  you  are  tired ;  do  this  four 
days  successively,  turning  the  meat 
every  other  day.  Jf  the  hog  is  large, 
keep  the  sides  in  the  brine  (turning 
them  ten  times)  for  three  weeks;  then 
take  them  out,  and  dry  them  thoroughly 
in  the  usual  manner*" 


Finally,  remembering  that  the  customs 
before  stated    relate   to    marriage,    it 
occurs  that  there  is  the  following 
Receipt  for  a  Good  Match. 
To  make  a  good  match  you   have  brim- 
stone and  wood, 

Take  a  scold  and  a  blockhead — the  match 
must  be  good. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature.  .  .  .  60  •  47. 


Suite  21. 

THE  LONGEST  DAY. 

This  day  the  sun  enters  the  sign 
Cancer,  and  is  then  at  his  extreme  dis- 
tance north  of  the  Equator,  passing  in 
the  zenith  over  the  heads  of  all  the 
inhabitants  situated  on  the  tropical  line; 
while  to  us,  who  reside  in  London,  he 
appears  at  his  greatest  altitude,  and 
hence  arises  the  increased  heat  we  ex- 
perience from  his  rays. 

To  individuals  within  the  Arctic  cir- 
cle the  sun  at  this  time  does  not  set. 

Cancer  is  the  first  of  the  summer 
signs,  and  when  the  sun  enters  it  we 
have  our  longest  day.  According  to  Sir 
William  Jones,  "  the  Hindu  Asbrono 
mer  Varaha  lived  when  the  solstices 
were  in  the  first  degrees  of  Cancer  and 
Capricorn."  It  is  now  above  2000  years 
since  the  solstices  thus  coincided,  and, 
at  present,  the  sign  Cancer  begins  near 

•  Trans.  Soc.  Arts. 


the  two  stars  which  form  the  upper  foot 
in  the  constellation  Gemini,  arid  termi- 
nates about  the  fourth  degree  within 
the  eastern  boundary  of  the  constellation 
Cancer.  In  the  Zodiac  of  Dendera 
this  sign  is  represented  by  a  scambaus, 
or  beetle. 


Fruits. 

To  the  eye  and  palate  of  the  imagi- 
nation, this  month  and  the  next  are 
richer  than  those  which  follow  them  ; 
for  now  you  can  "  have  your  fruit  c^H 
eat  it  too;"  which  you  cannot  do  then. 
In  short,  now  the  fruit  blossoms  are  all 
gone,  and  the  fruit  is  so  fully  set  that 
nothing  can  hurt  it ;  and  what  is  better 
still,  it  is  not  yet  stealable,  either  by 
boys,  birds,  or  bees ;  so  that  you  are  as 
sure  of  it  as  one  can  be  of  any  thing, 
the  enjoyment  of  which  is  not  actually 
past.  Enjoy  it  now,  then,  while  you 
may;  in  order  that,  when  in  the  autumn 
it  disappears,  on  the  eve  of  the  very  day 
you  had  destined  for  the  gathering  of  it 
(as  every  body's  fruit  does),  you  alone 
may  feel  that  you  can  afford  to  lose  it. 
Every  heir  who  is  worthy  to  enjoy  the 
estate  that  is  left  to  him  in  reversion,  does 
enjoy  it  whether  it  ever  comes  to  him 
or  not. 

On  looking  more  closely  at  the  Fruit, 
we  shall  find  that  the  Strawberries, 
which  lately  (like  bold  and  beautiful 
children)  held  out  their  blossoms  into 
the  open  sunshine,  that  all  the  world 
might  see  them,  now,  that  their  fruit 
is  about  to  reach  maturity,  hide  it  care- 
fully beneath  their  low-lying  leaves,  as 
conscious  virgins  do  their  maturing 
beauties  ; — that  the  Gooseberries  and 
Currants  have  attained  their  full  growth, 
and  the  latter  are  turning  ripe; — that 
the  Wall-fruit  is  just  getting  large 
enough  to  be  seen  among  the  leaves 
without  looking  for; — that  the  Cherries 
are  peeping  out  in  white  or  "  cherry- 
cheeked"  clusters  all  along  their  straight 
branches; — and  that  the  other  stand- 
ards, the  Apples,  Pears,  and  Plums,  are 
more  or  less  forward,  according  to  their 
kinds.* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature   ...  59  •  49. 


*  Mirror  of  the  Months. 


815 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  21. 


816 


THE  LONGEST  DAY. 
For  the  Every- Day  Book. 

Cradled  in  glory's  eiher-space, 

By  Venus  nursed  till  morn, — • 
The  light  unrolls  thy  golden  life 

And  thou  art  sweetly  born. 

O  lovely  Day  of  bloom  and  shine, 

Of  heat,  and  air,  and  strain  ! 
Millions  rejoice  and  millions  die 

Within  thy  halcyon  reign. 

Hopes,  fears,  and   doubts,  the    passions 
move  j 

'Twas  yesterday  the  same : — 
To-morrow  !  thou  wilt  join  the  dead, 

And  only  live  by  name — 
Jupiter  guides  thee  through  the  skies 

To  Hope's  eternal  shore  : 
The  sun  departs — Thou,  Longest  Day — 

Thou  wilt  be  seen  no  more  ! 

Methuselah  of  England's  year ! 

Thou  Parr  of  Time — Farewell ! 
St.  Thomas,  shortest  of  thy  race, 

Shall  ring  thine  annual  knell. 

J.  R.  PRIOR. 

YOUNG   BIRDS. 

The  following  letter  is  to  be  consi- 
dered as  addressed  to  the  reader,  rather 
than  the  editor,  who,  as  yet,  is  not  even 
a  tyro  in  the  art  wherein  his  respected 
correspondent  has  evidently  attained 
proficiency.  Indeed  the  communication 
ought  to  have  been  inserted  in  May. 
If  its  agreeable  writer,  and  his  good-na- 
tured readers,  can  excuse  the  omission, 
the  birds  and  the  editor  will  be  equally 
obliged. 

THE  REARING   AND  TREATMENT  OP 

YOUNG  BIRDS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Now,  thro'  the  furrows  where  the  skylarks 

build, 
Or  by  the  hedge-rows  green,  the  fowler 

strays, 
Seeking  the  infant  bird. 

Sir, — As  the  time  has  arrived  for 
taking  the  young  from  the  feathered 
tribe,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  say  a  few 
words  by  way  of  advice  to  the  unin- 
itiated, concerning  the  rearing,  and 
training  of  these  amusing  creatures, 
who  repay  our  cares  with  their  rich 
melody. 

We  may  now  get  Chaffinches,  Gold- 
finches, Linnets,  Larks,  &c.  in  the 
streets,  or  at  the  different  shops  at  a 
very  small  expense,  either  singly,  or  by 
the  nest,  according  to  their  agen,  but  I 


should  recommend  all  who  wish  to  pur- 
chase young  birds  to  go  to  a  regular 
dealer,  who  sell  them  quite  as  cheap, 
and  warrant  them  cocks.  Buy  them 
when  they  begin  to  feed  themselves — 
or,  if  younger,  when  you  have  them 
home,  put  them  in  a  cage,  rather 
roomy: — then  for  Linnets,  Goldfinches, 
or  Chaffinches,  mix  rape-seed,  bruised, 
and  bread,  steeped  in  boiling  water — 
with  which,  when  cooled,  you  may  feed 
them,  putting  it  into  their  mouths  from 
the  end  of  a  stick,  about  every  two 
hours;  water  they  will  not  require,  the 
food  being  sufficiently  moist  for  them. 
When  you  find  them  peck  at  the  stick, 
and  take  their  food  eagerly  from  it, 
which  they  will  do  at  about  a  fortnight 
old,  place  some  food  about  the  cage 
with  clean  dry  gravel,  scattering  among 
it  some  dry  seed  bruised ;  they  will  pick 
it  up,  and  so  be  weaned  off  the  moist 
food,  which  is  no  longer  proper  for 
them — also  place  water  in  the  pot.  This, 
as  regards  their  feeding,  is  all  you  have 
to  do,  while  they  remain  healthy — if 
sick,  you  must  treat  them  according  to 
the  nature  of  their  complaint.  I  think 
their  sickness  at  this  early  stage  of  their 
existence  is  either  caused  by  cold,  or  by 
the  oily  nature  of  their  food,  it  being 
too  strong  for  their  stomachs ;  to  re- 
medy this,  mix  a  little  of  the  fine  gravel 
with  it,  this  will  help  their  digestion. 
Sometimes  the  seed  will  scour  them,  in 
that  case,  boiled  milk,  or  rust  of  iron 
put  into  their  water  is  a  remedy.  So 
much  as  concerns  the  hard- billed  tribe. 

If  your  fancy  runs  on  soft-billed  birds, 
such  as  the  skylark,  woodlark,  nightin- 
gale, or  robin,  you  must  feed  them  with 
egg,  and  bread  moistened  with  water; 
or  beef,  raw  or  cooked ;  changing  it  as 
they  grow  and  begin  to  feed  themselves, 
to  dry  egg  chopped  small,  and  crumbled 
bread  j  throwing  in  with  it  German 
paste,  until  you  find  them  contented 
with  the  latter.  All  these  birds  will 
live  healthy,  and  sing  stout,  on  this  food, 
except  the  nightingale;  he  must  have 
beef  and  egg.  The  remedy  for  sickness 
and  scouring  is  as  before;  if  the  paste 
binds  them,  give  them  raw  beef,  or 
chopped  fig ;  the  latter  is  good  for  all 
birds,  keeping  them  in  beautiful  feather, 
and  cool  in  body.  When  a  month  old, 
cage  them  off  in  their  proper  cages. 

Give  your  captives  good  food,  and 
clear  water;  keep  their  dwellings  free 
from  vermin,  which  you  may  always  do 


817 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


810 


by  having  a  spare  cage  to  turn  them 
into  once  a  week,  while  you  search  the 
other,  and  destroy  the  devouring  race 
of  red  lice  that  breed  in  their  crevices 
and  corners. 

Squirt  a  mouthful  of  water  over  your 
birds  now  and  then,  it  will  do  them 
good ;  this  will  much  assist  them  in 
their  moulting,  and  make  them  throw 
their  feathers  faster,  particularly  larks, 
nightingales,  and  robins.  The  latter 
may  have  their  water-pans  to  fix  inside 
the  cage,  so  that  they  can  dabble  in 
them,  when  they  like;  this  will  save  the 
trouble  of  taking  them  out  to  clean 


their  feet.  Larks  must  be  taken  out 
once  a  week,  or  their  claws  will  become 
clogged  with  dirt,  and  rot  off.  The 
cleaning  their  feet  is  but  very  little 
trouble;  dip  them  in  warm  water,  and 
rub  the  dirt  gently  off  with  your  thumb 
and  finger.  As  these  innocent  creatures 
delight  you  with  the  beauty  of  their 
feathers,  and  sweetness  of  their  song,  too 
much  cannot  be  done  for  their  comfort. 

Hoping   this  little   dissertation    (if  I 
may  so  call  it)  will  be  useful, 

1  am,  &c. 
S.R.J. 

I  conclude  with  the  following 


SONNET 

On  hearing  a  Thrush  singing  in  the  rain, 
How  sweet  the  song  of  the  awakened  thrush — 
Mellow'd  by  distance,  comes  upon  the  ear, 
Tho'  gather* d  clouds  have  made  the  heavens  drear, 
And  the  rain  hisses  in  the  hazel  bush, 
Wherein  he  warbles  with  a  voice  as  clear 
As  if  blue  skies  were  over,  and  he  near 
The  one  that  lov'd  him — sweet,  yet  sad  to  hear  ! 
For  it  remindeth  me  of  one  I've  heard, 
Singing  to  other  ears,  herself  unseen, 
In  her  own  bower,  like  that  delightful  bird, 
While  yet  her  bosom's  hopes  were  fresh  and  green, 
One,  whom  1  heard  again  in  after  years, 
When  sorrow  smote  her, — singing  'midst  her  tears. 
May,  1826.  S.  R.  J. 


The  editor  has  often  wished,  for  the 
sake  of  feathered  posterity,  that  he  could 
ensure  their  liberty  ;  but  he  can  no  more 
do  that,  than  persuade  those  who  think 
they  have  "  vested  rights"  in  the  bodies 
of  certain  of  the  airy  race,  to  open  their 
cages  and  **  set  the  prisoners  free."  It 
is  in  his  power,  however,  to  assist  a  little 
in  ameliorating  their  condition,  by  urg- 
ing re-perusal  and  strict  attention  to  the 
preceding  letter.  He  is  himself  parti- 
cularly struck  with  the  direction,  "squirt 
a  mouthful  of  water  over  your  birds 
now  and  then— it  will  do  them  good.'1 
He  ventures  with  becoming  diffidence 
to  suggest,  whether  to  syringe  a  little 
may  not  be  as  beneficial  as  to  "  squirt  a 
mouthful"  This  is  the  only  exception 
he  dares  to  hint,  and  it  is  to  be 
marked  as  a  qualified  one,  and,  under  a 
sense  of  inexperience,  made  "  at  a 
hazard."  But  he  agrees  that  "  a  night- 
ingale,"— a  caged  nightingale,  alas! — 
"must  have  beef  and  egg;"  and  "that 
larks  must  be  taken  out  osice  't  week"; 
and — he  may  be  wrong — if  they  fly 
away,  so  much  the  better.  He  is  strongly 


of  opinion  that  birds  are  like  himself— 
they  cannot  "  bear  confinement,"  and 
be  happy. 


22. 

1826.  GENERAL  ELECTION* 

Parliament  having  existed  to  its  ut- 
most legal  duration,  the  electors  exer- 
cised, or  withheld  the  exercise  of  their 
franchise,  according  to  their  individual 
wishes  or  hopes,  desires  or  fears,  intelli- 
gence or  ignorance;  or  as  feelings  of 
independence  directed,  or  influence 
over  weakness  misdirected.  Contests 
were  as  numerous  and  fierce  as  usual; 
and,  as  might  have  been  expected,  in 
some  places,  the  numerical  state  of  the 
poll-books  intimated  more  of  intellectual 
enlargement  than  the  final  results.  No 
new  arguments  or  means  were  resorted 
to.  The  following  paragraph  is  only 
inserted  as  an  instance,  that  to  buy  as 
cheap,  and  sell  as  dear  as  possible,  as  a 
principle  of  trade,  was  not  thoroughly 
lost  sight  of  by  dealers. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22, 


820 


Price  of  1  revisions  duriny  Elections. 

During  the  election  at  Sudbury,  four 
cabbages  sold  for  10/.,  and  a  plate  of 
gooseberries  fetched  25Z. ;  the  sellers, 
where  these  articles  were  so  dear,  being 
voters.  At  Great  Marlow,  on  the  con- 
trary, things  were  cheap,  and  an  elector 
during  the  election  bought  a  sow  and 
nine  young  pigs  for  a  penny.* 

ELECTION  FOR  GARRETT. 
The  "  County  History"  says,  that  the 
Hamlet  of  Garrett  is  in  the  road  from 
Wandsworth  to  Tooting.  About  two 
centuries  ago  it  appears  to  have  been  a 
single  house  called  the  Garvett.  In  it 
was  the  mansion-house  of  the  Brodrick 
family,  pulled  down  about  fifty  years 
ago;  the  ground  is  let  to  a  market  gar- 
dener; part  of  the  garden  wall  remains. 
Garrett  now  contains  about  fifty  houses, 
amongst  which  are  some  considerable 
manufactures.  This  used  to  be  for  many 
years  the  scene  of  a  mock  election,  and 
much  indecency  on  the  meeting  of  every 
new  parliament,  when  several  charac- 
ters in  low  life  appeared  as  candidates, 
being  furnished  with  fine  clothes  and 
gay  equipages  by  the  publicans,  who 
made  a  good  harvest.  The  last  of  these, 
known  by  the  name  of  Sir  Harry  Dims- 
dale,  was  a  deformed  dwarf,  little  better 
than  an  idiot,  who  used  to  cry  muffins 
in  the  streets  about  St.  Ann's,  Soho, 
and  died  about  1809.  It  has  been 
dropped  at  the  two  last  general  elec- 
tions; but  the  memory  of  it  will  be 
preserved  by  Foote's  diverting  farce  of 
"  The  Mayor  of  Garrett."— There  are 
three  prints  displaying  the  proceedings 
on  occasion  of  this  election. f 

Since  the  preceding  statement,  which 
is  almost  in  the  words  of  Lysons,  Gar- 
relt  has  been  increased,  and  may  be 
said,  in  1826,  to  contain  double  the 
number  of  houses.  Lysons  and  Bray 
call  it- a  "hamlet;"  and  this  denomina- 
tion, if  taken  to  mean  "  a  small  village," 
is  applicable  to  this  place. 

For  particulars  concerning  the  "  Mock 
Election,"  with  a  view  to  insertion  in 
the  Every  Day-Book,  Garrett  itself  has 
been  visited,  and  persons  seen  there,  and 
in  the  neighbourhood,  who  took  part  in 
the  proceedings,  and  well  remember 
them.  Their  statements  of  this  public 

•The  Times,  June  20, 1826. 

f  Manning  and  Bray's  History  of  S»»r«  y. 


burlesque  will  be  laid  before  the  reaucr 
presently. 

As  a  preliminary,  it  may  be  remarked 
that  in  the  election  for  Garrett,  there 
was  a  whimsical  assumption  of  office, 
and  an  arbitrary  creation  of  officers  and 
characters  unknown  in  the  elections  of 
other  boroughs.  In  particular,  there 
was  a  "Master  of  the  Horse."  The 
person  so  dignified  at  its  latter  elections 
was  pointed  out  as  the  oldest  individual 
in  Wandsworth,  who  had  figured  in  the 
"solemn  mockery,"  and  as,  therefore, 
most  likely  to  furnish  information,  from 
"reminiscences"  of  his  "ancient  dig- 
nity." He  was  described  as  "  Old  Jack 
Jones  the  sawyer;"  and  it  was  added, 
"You'll  find  him  by  the  water  side; 
turn  down  by  the  church;  he  is  lame 
and  walks  with  a  crutch  ;  any  body  '11 
tell  you  of  him;  he  lives  in  a  cottage  by 
the  bridge;  if  you  don't  find  him  at 
home,  he  is  most  likely  at  the  Plume  of 
Feathers,  or  just  in  the  neighbourhood  ; 
you'll  be  sure  to  know  him  if  you  meet 
him — he  is  a  thorough  oddity,  and  can 
tell  all  about  the  Garrett  Election." 
The  "  Plume"  was  resorted  to,  and  "old 
Jack  Jones"  obligingly  sought  by  Mr. 
Attree  the  landlord,  who  for  that  pur- 
pose peregrinated  the  town  ;  and  the 
"Master  of  the  Horse"  made  his  entry 
into  the  parlour  with  as  much  alacrity 
as  his  wooden  assistants  helped  him  to. 
It  was  "the  accustomed  place,"  wherein 
he  had  told  his  story  "  many  a  time  and 
oft ;"  and  having  heard,  "  up  town"  that 
there  was  "somebody  quite  curious  - 
about  the  Garrett  Election,"  he  was 
dragging  his  "slow  length  along,"  when 
"  mine  host  of  the  Feathers  "  met  him 
ou  the  way. 

John  Jones  may  be  described  as  "  one 
of  the  has  beens."  In  his  day  he  was 
tall  of  stature,  stout  of  body,  and  had 
done  as  much  work  as  any  man  of  his 
time — when  he  was  at  it.  But,  then,  he 
had  overstrained  himself,  and  for  some 
years  past  had  not  been  able  to  do  a 
stroke  of  work;  and  he  had  seen  a 
deal  of  "  ran-dan,"  and  a  racketty  life 
had  racketted  his  frame,  and 


'Time 


Had  written  strange  defeatures  on  his  brow." 
After  the  first  civilities,  and  after  he 
had  deposited  his  crutch  and  stick  by 
the  side  of  a  chair,  and  himself  in  an 
adjoining  one,  and  after  the  glow 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE 


825 


pleasure  from  seeing  a  fresh  face  had 
subsided,  and  been  replaced  by  a  sense 
of  the  importance  which  attaches  to  the 
possession  of  something  coveted  by 
another,  lie  talked  of  the  "  famous 
doings,"  and  "  such  sights  as  never 
were  seen  before,  nor  never  would  be 
seen  again  ;"  and  he  dimmed  the  hope  of 
particular  information,  by  "quips,  and 
quirks,  and  wanton  wiles;"  and  prao 
ised  the  "art  of  ingeniously  tor- 
menting," by  declarations  of  unbounded 
knowledge,  and  that  "  he  could  a  tale 
unfold,"  but  would  not;  because,  as  he 
said,  "  why  should  I  make  other  people 
as  wise  as  I  am?"  Yet  there  was  a 
string  which  "discoursed  most  excellent 
music" — it  was  of  himself  and  of  the 
fame  of  his  exploits.  His  "  companions 
inarms"  had  been  summoned  to  their 
last  abiding-place,  and,  alas, 

"  They  left  him  alone  in  his  glory  !" 
John  Jones's  topic  was  not  a  dry  one, 
nor  was  John  Jones  dry,  but  in  the 


commencement  he  had  "  preferred  a 
little  porter  to  any  thing  else  in  the 
world,"  except,  and  afterwards  accepted, 
"a  drop  of  something  .by  itself;"  and, 
by  degrees,  he  became  communicative 
of  all  he  could  recollect.  In  the  course 
of  the  present  article  his  information 
will  be  embodied,  with  other  memo- 
randa, towards  a  history  of  the  elections 
of  the  "  borough  of  Garrett." 

Had  an  artist  been  present  at  the 
conversation,  he  might  have  caught 
the  features  of  the  "  Ex-master  of  the 
Horse,"  when  they  were  heightened  by 
his  subject  to  a  humorous  expression. 
He  was  by  no  means  unwilling  to  "have 
his  head  taken  off;"  but  he  deemed  the 
"execution"  an  affair  of  so  much  im- 
portance as  to  solemnize  his  features 
from  their  wonted  hilarity  while  speak- 
ing, to  the  funereal  appearance  which 
the  writer  has  depicted,  and  the  en- 
graver perpetuated,  in  the  following  re- 
presentation : — 


MASTER  OF  THE  HORSE  AT  THE  LAST  ELECTIONS  FOR 

GARRETT. 


As  a  memorial  of  a  remarkable  living 
character,  this  portrait  may  be  accept- 
able ;  he  is  the  only  person  alive  at 
Wandswortb,  of  any  distinction  in  the 
popular  elections  of  its  neighbourhood. 


The  following  interesting  account 
respecting  Garrett  is  in  "  A  Morning'* 
Walk  to  Kew"— 

By  Sir  Richard  Phillips. 
i.   Wandsworth  having  been   the  once- 
famed  scene  of  those  humorous  popular 


823 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  92. 


elections  of  a  mayor,  or  member  for 
GARRAT;  and  the  subject  serving  to  il- 
lustrate the  manners  of  the  times,  and 
abounding  in  original  features  of  cha- 
racter, I  collected  among  some  of  its 
elder  inhabitants  a  variety  of  amusing 
facts  and  documents,  relative  to  the  ec- 
centric candidates  and  their  elections. 

Southward  of  Wandsworth,  a  road 
extends  nearly  two  miles  to  the  village 
of  Lower  Tooting,  and  nearly  midway 
are  a  few  houses,  or  hamlet,  by  the  side 
of  a  small  common,  called  Garrat,  from 
which  the  road  itself  is  called  Garrat 
Lane.  Various  encroachments  on  this 
common  led  to  an  association  of  the 
neighbours  about  three-score  years  since, 
when  they  chose  a  president,  or  mayor, 
to  protect  their  rights ;  and  the  time  of 
their  first  election  being  the  period  of  a 
new  parliament,  it  was  agreed  that  the 
mayor  should  be  re-chosen  after  every 
general  election.  Some  facetious  mem- 
bers of  the  club  gave,  in  a  few  years, 
local  notoriety  to  this  election ;  and, 
when  party  spirit  ran  high  in  the  days 
of  Wilhes  and  Liberty,  it  was  easy  to 
create  an  appetite  for  a  burlesque  elec- 
tion among  the  lower  orders  of  the  Me- 
tropolis. The  publicans  at  Wandsworth, 
Tooting,  Battersea,  Clapham,  and  Vaux- 
hall,  made  a  purse  to  give  it  character; 
and  Mr.  Foote  rendered  its  interest  uni- 
versal, by  calling  one  of  his  inimitable 
farces,  "  the  Mayor  of  Garrat"  I  have 
indeed  been  told,  that  Foote,  Garrick, 
and  Wilkes,  wrote  some  of  the  candi- 
dates' addresses,  for  the  purpose  of  in- 
structing the  people  in  the  corruptions 
which  attend  elections  to  the  legislature, 
and  of  producing  those  reforms  by  means 
of  ridicule  and  shame,  which  are  vainly 
expected  from  solemn  appeals  of  argu- 
ment and  patriotism. 

Not  being  able  to  find  the  members 
for  Garrat  in  Beatson's  Political  Index, 
or  in  any  of  the  Court  Calendars,  I  am 
obliged  to  depend  on  tradition  for  infor- 
mation in  regard  to  the  early  history  of 
this  famous  borough.  The  first  mayor 
of  whom  I  could  hear  was  called  Sir 
John  Harper.  He  filled  the  seat  during 
two  parliaments,  and  was,  it  appears,  a 
man  of  wit,  for,  on  a  dead  cat  being 
thrown  at  him  on  the  hustings,  and  a 
bystander  exclaiming  that  it  stunk 
worse  than  a  fox,  Sir  John  vociferated, 
"  that's  no  wonder,  for  you  see  it's  a 
poll-cat"  This  noted  baronet  was,  in 
the  metropolis,  a  retailer  of  brick-dust ; 


and,  his  Garrat  honours  being  supposed 
to  be  a  means  of  improving  his  trade 
and  the  condition  of  his  ass,  many  cha- 
racters in  similar  occupations  were  led 
to  aspire  to  the  same  distinctions. 

He  was  succeeded  by  Sir  Jeffery  Dun- 
stan,  who  was  returned  for  three  parlia- 
ments, and  was  the  most  popular  candi- 
date that  ever  appeared  on  the  Garrat 
hustings.  His  occupation  was  that  of 
buying  OLD  WIGS,  once  an  article  of 
trade  like  that  in  old  clothes,  but  be- 
come obsolete  since  the  full-bottomed 
and  full-dressed  wigs  of  both  sexes  went 
out  of  fashion.  Sir  Jeffery  usually  car- 
ried his  wig-bag  over  his  shoulder,  and, 
to  avoid  the  charge  of  vagrancy,  voci- 
ferated, as  he  passed  along  the  street, 
"  old  wigs;"  but,  having  a  person  like 
Esop,  and  a  countenance  and  mariner 
marked  by  irresistible  humour,  he  never 
appeared  without  a  train  of  boys,  and 
curious  persons,  whom  he  entertained  by 
his  sallies  of  wit,  shrewd  sayings,  and 
smart  repartees;  and  from  whom,  with- 
out begging,  he  collected  sufficient  to 
maintain  his  dignity  of  mayor  and  knight 
He  was  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  was 
so  severe  in  his  jokes  on  the  corruptions 
and  compromises  of  power,  that  this 
street-jester,  was  prosecuted  for  using 
what  were  then  called  seditious  expres- 
sions ;  and,  as  a  caricature  on  the  times, 
which  ought  never  to  be  forgotten,  he 
was  in  1793  tried,  convicted,  and  im- 
prisoned !  In  consequence  of  this  affair, 
and  some  charges  of  dishonesty,  he  lost 
his  popularity,  and,  at  the  general  elec- 
tion for  1796,  was  ousted  by  Sir  Harry 
Dimsdale,  muffin-seller,  a  man  as  much 
deformed  as  himself.  Sir  Jeffery  could 
not  long  survive  his  fall ;  but,  in  death 
as  in  life,  he  proved  a  satire  on  the  vices 
of  the  proud,  for  in  1797  he  died,  like 
Alexander  the  Great,  and  many  other 
heroes  renowned  in  the  historic  page — 
of  suffocation  from  excessive  drinking! 

Sir  Harry  Dimsdale  dying  also  before 
the  next  general  election,  and  no  candi- 
date starting  of  sufficient  originality  of 
character,  and,  what  was  still  more  fatal* 
the  victuallers  having  failed  to  raise  a 
PUBLIC  PURSE,  which  was  as  stimulating- 
a  bait  to  the  independent  candidates  for 
Garrat,  as  it  is  to  the  independent  can- 
didates for  a  certain  assembly ;  the  bo- 
rough of  Garrat  has  since  remained 
vacant,  and  the  populace  have  been 
without  a  professed  political  buffoon. 

None  but  those  who  have  seen  a  Lon- 


825 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22 


326 


don  mob  on  any  great  holiday  can  form 
a  just  idea  of  these  elections.  On  seve- 
ral occasions,  a  hundred  thousand  per- 
sons, half  of  them  in  carts,  in  hackney- 
coaches,  and  on  horse  and  ass-back,  co- 
vered the  various  roads  from  London, 
and  choked  up  all  the  approaches  to 
the  place  of  election.  At  the  two  last 
elections,  I  was  told,  that  the  road  within 
a  mile  of  Wandsworth  was  so  blocked 
up  by  vehicles,  that  none  could  move 
backward  or  forward  during  many 
hours;  and  that  the  candidates,  dressed 
like  i-himney-sweepers  on  May-day, 
or  in  the  mock  fashion  of  the  period, 
were  brought  to  the  hustings  in  the 
carriages  of  peers,  drawn  by  six  horses, 
the  owners  themselves  condescending  to 
become  their  drivers  *  ! 

Before  relating  certain  amusing  facts 
which  have  never  before  appeared  in 
print,  or  giving  further  particulars  re- 
specting Sir  Jeffery  Dunstan  and  Sir 
Henry  Dimsdale,  it  seems  fitting  to  add 
from  the  "Gentleman's  Magazine"  of 
1781,  as  follows: — 

"  Wednesday  June  25,  the  septennial 
mock  election  for  Garrat  was  held  this 
day;  and  upwards  of  50,000  people 
were,  on  that  ludicrous  occasion,  assem- 
bled at  Wandsworth." 

In  the  same  volume  there  is  an  ar- 
ticle which,  as  it  is  the  only  other  notice 
in  that  useful  miscellany  concerning  this 
celebrated  usage,  and  as  there  is  not 
any  notice  of  it  in  other  magazines  of 
the  time,  is  here  annexed. 

July,  25. 

Mr.  URBAN.— The  learned  antiquary 
finds  a  pleasure  in  tracing  the  origin  of 
ancient  customs,  even  when  time  has 
so  altered  them  as  totally  to  obliterate 
their  use.  It  may  therefore  not.be  un- 
pleasing  to  the  generality  of  your  read- 
ers, while  it  is  yet  recent  in  memory, 
to  record  in  your  Magazine  the  laudable 
motive  that  gave  rise  to  the  farcical  cus- 
tom of  electing  a  Mayor  of  Garrat, 
which  is  now  become  truly  ridiculous. 

1  have  been  told,  that  about  thirty 
years  ago,  several  persons  who  lived 
near  that  part  of  Wandsworth  which 
adjoins  to  Garrat  Lane,  had  formed  a 
kind  of  club,  not  merely  to  eat  and 
drink,  but  to  concert  measures  for  re- 
uiovmg  the  encroachments  made  on  that 
part  of  the  common,  and  to  prevent  any 

•  Sir  Richard  Phillips'  Walk  to  Kew. 


others  being  made  for  the  future.  As 
the  members  were  most  of  them  persons 
in  low  circumstances,  they  agreed  at 
every  meeting  to  contribute  some  small 
matter,  in  order  to  make  up  a  purse  for 
the  defence  of  their  collective  rights. 
When  a  sufficient  sum  of  money  was 
subscribed,  they  applied  to  a  very  wor- 
thy attorney  in  that  neighbourhood,  who 
brought  an  action  against  the  encroach- 
ers  in  the  name  of  the  president  (or,  as 
they  called  him,  the  MAYOR)  of  the  club. 
They  gained  their  suit  with  costs;  the 
encroachments  were  destroyed;  and  ever 
after,  the  president,  who  lived  many 
years,  was  called  "The  Mayor  of 
Garrat." 

This  event  happening  at  the  time  of 
a  general  election,  the  ceremony  upon 
every  new  parliament,  of  choosing  out- 
door members  for  the  borough  of  Garrat, 
has  been  constantly  kept  up,  and  is  still 
continued,  to  the  great  emolument  of  all 
the  publicans  at  Wandsworth,  who  an- 
nually subscribe  to  all  incidental  ex- 
penses attending  this  mock  election. 

M  G. 

The  late  eminent  antiquary,  Dr. 
Ducarel,  made  inquiries  respecting  this 
custom  of  the  late  Mr.  W.  Massey  of 
Wandsworth,  who  answered  them  in 
the  following  letter: — 

Wands^vortht  June  25,  1754. 

DR.  DUCAREL. — I  promised  to  give 
you  an  account  of  the  mock  election  for 
Garrat,  a  district  within  the  compass  of 
the  parish  of  Wandsworth.  I  have  been 
informed,  that  about  60  or  70  years  ago, 
some  watermen,  belonging  to  this  town, 
went  to  the  Leather  Bottle,  a  public 
house  at  Garrat,  to  spend  a  merry  day, 
which,  being  the  time  of  a  general  elec- 
tion for  members  of  Parliament,  in  the 
midst  of  their  frolick  they  took  it  into 
their  heads  to  chuse  one  of  their  com- 
pany a  representative  for  that  place; 
and,  having  gone  through  the  usual  ce- 
remonies of  an  election,  as  well  as  the 
occasion  would  permit,  he  was  declared 
duly  elected.  Whether  the  whimsical 
custom  of  swearing  the  electors  upon  a 
brick-bat,  'quod  rem  cum  aliqua  mu- 
liere,  intra  limites  istius  pagi,  habuis- 
sent,'  was  then  first  established,  or  that 
it  was  a  waggish  after-thought,  I  cannot 
determine,  but  it  has  been  regarded  as 
the  due  qualification  of  fie  electors  for 
many  elections  last  past. 

This  local  usage,  from  that  s»hall  be- 


827 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


823 


ginning,  has  had  a  gradual  increase  5  for 
no  great  account  was  made  of  it,  that  I 
can  remember  or  hear  of,  before  the  two 
elections  preceding  this  last,  which  has 
been  performed  with  uncommon  pomp 
and  magnificence,  in  the  plebeian  mode 
of  pageantry.  And,  as  it  has  been  taken 
notice  of  in  our  public  newspapers,  it 
may  probably  have  a  run,  through  those 
channels,  to  many  parts  of  the  kingdom, 
and,  in  time,  become  the  inquiry  of  the 
curious,  when  and  why  such  a  mock 
usage  was  commenced. 

I  have  herewith  sent  you  copies  of 
some  of  the  hand-bills  of  the  candidates, 
that  were  printed  and  plentifully  dis- 
persed (in  imitation  of  the  grand  monde) 
before  the  election  came  on,  by  which 
you  may  judge  of  the  humour  in  which 
the  other  parts  of  it  were  conducted. 
Their  pseudo-titles,  as  you  will  observe, 
are  Lord  Twankum,  Squire  Blow-me- 
down,  and  SquireGubbins.  LordTwan- 
kum's  right  name  is  John  Gardiner,  and 
is  grave-digger  to  this  parish  ;  Blow-me- 
down  is  »  Willis,  a  waterman  ;  and 

Squire  Gubbins,  whose  name  is  

Simmonds,  keeps  a  publichouse,  the 
sign  of  the  Gubbins'  Head,  in  Blackman* 
street,  Southward 

Some  time  hence,  perhaps,  also  it 
may  be  a  matter  of  inquiry  what  is 
meant  by  the  Gubbins'  Head.  This 
Simmonds  formerly  lived  at  Wands- 
worth,  and  went  from  hence  to  keep  a 
public-house  in  Blackman-street;  he 
being  a  droll  companion  in  what  is 
called  low-life,  several  of  hisold  acquaint- 
ance of  this  town  used  to  call  at  his 
house,  when  they  were  in  London,  to 
drink  a  pot  or  two;  and,  as  he  generally 
had  some  cold  provisions  (which  by  a 
cant  name  he  usually  called  "  his  gub- 
bins"),  he  made  them  welcome  to  such 
as  he  had,  from  whence  he  obtained 
that  name  ;  and  putting  up  a  man's  head 
for  the  sign,  it  was  called  the  "  Gub- 
bins' Head."  A  hundred  years  hence, 
perhaps,  if  some  knowledge  of  the 
occasion  of  the  name  of  this  sign 
should  not  be  preserved  in  writing, 
our  future  antiquaries  might  puzzle 
themselves  to  find  out  the  meaning  of 
it.  I  make  no  question,  but  that  we 
have  many  elaborate  dissertations  upon 
antique  subjects,  whose  originals,  being 
obscure  or  whimsy,  like  this,  were  never 
truly  discovered.  This  leads  me  to  the 
commendation  of  the  utility  of  your 
design  in  recording  singular  accidents 


and  odd  usages,  the  causes  and  origin  of 
which  might  otherwise  be  lost  in  a  long 
tract  of  time. 

Garrett  Election,  1 826. 

It  seems  to  be  the  desire  of  certain 
admirers  of  certain  popular  customs  to 
get  up  another  burlesque  election  for 
Garrett  j  the  last  was  thirty  years  ago. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  a  Notice, 
now  executing  (June  23,  1 826)  at  a  sign- 
painters,  on  a  board  ten  feet  high,  for 
the  purpose  of  being  publicly  exhibited. 
It  need  scarcely  be  observed  that  the 
commencing  word  of  this  very  singu- 
lar composition,  which  ought  to  be  Oyez, 
is  improperly  spelt  and  divided,  and 
"yes"  is  unaccountably  placed  between 
three  inverted  commas ;  the  transcript 
is  verbatim,  and  is  arranged  in  this 
column  as  the  original  is  on  the  sign- 
board. 

0  "'Yes" 

NOTICE 
That  on  THURSDAY 

6th  July,  1826 

In  conformity  of 

THE  HIGH 

AUTHORITIES, 

Of  the  UNITED 
KINGDOM 

will  asstmble 

THROUGHOUT 

t&e  EMPIRE 

and  particularly 

at  the  f^USttngtf  at 

GARR.AT, 
to  whit,  conformable 

to  the  Custom 

Of. OUR  ANCIENT 

LIBERTY. 

SIR  JOHN 

PAUL  PRY, 

now  offers  him&elf 

to  a  Generous 

PUBLIC 

COD    SAVE    THE 

KING 

The  last  representative  of  Garrett  was 
a  "  remarkable  character  "  in  the  streets 
of  tho  metropolis  for  many  years.  His  or- 
dinary costume  was  very  different  from 


S29  THE  KVERY:DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  82.  830 

the  court  dress  he  wore  on  tae  hustings,  wherein  he  Is  here  represented — 


Btmatan, 


.  for  <§amtt, 


COSMOPOLITE,    AND    MUFFIN-SELLER. 

The  individual  who  figured  as  con-    who  may  be  regarded  as  the  last  really 
spicuously  as  the  most  conspicuous,  and     humorous  candidate  at  this  election  wa§ 


ffltmsfow,  M>  P-  far  <§amtt, 

AND    ITINERANT    DEALER    IN    OLD    WIGS. 


83! 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— JUNE  2i. 


The  kind  of  oratory  arid  the  nature  of 
the  argument  employed  by  the  candi- 
dates in  their  addresses  to  their  consti- 
tuents, can  scarcely  be  better  exempli- 
fied than  by  the  following 

SPEECH  OF  SIR  JEFFERY  DUNSTAN. 
My  Lords,  Ladies,  and  Gentlemen, 

A  landed  property  being  the  only 
unexceptionable  qualification  that  en- 
titles me  to  a  seat  in  the  august  parlia- 
ment of  Great  Britain,  1  presume  my 
estate  in  the  Isle  of  Mud  will,  in  point 
of  propriety,  secure  to  rne  your  votes 
and  interests,  to  represent  you  in  the 
ensuing  parliament. 

Ladies  and  gem'men,  I  propose,  for 
the  good  of  mankind,  to  anticipate  a 
few  promises  like  other  great  men,  but 
which  [  will  strictly  adhere  to,  that  is,  as 
long  as  I  find  it's  my  interest  so  to  do. 

First,  in  regard  to  his  Majesty's  want 
of  money,  I  am  determined  to  make  him 
easy  on  that  point — (Lord  bless  him!) 
— by  abolishing  the  use  of  it  entirely, 
and  reducing  the  price  of  gold,  it  being 
the  worst  canker  to  the  soul  of  man ; 
and  the  only  expedient  I  can  think  of 
to  prevent  bribery  and  corruption,  an 
evil  which  all  the  great  big  wigs  of  West- 
minster cannot  prevent,  notwithstand- 
ing all  their  gravity  and  knowledge,  as 
the  late  proceedings  against  governor 
Green  Peas  can  fully  testify. 

Next,  as  my  worthy  constituents  may 
be  assured,  1  shall  use  all  my  honest 
endeavours  to  get  a  majority  in  the 
house.  I  shall  always  take  the  popular 
side  of  the  question;  and  to  do  all  I  can 
to  oblige  that  jewel  of  a  man,  Sugar- 
Plumb  Billy,  i  shall  assist  him  in  pay- 
ing off  the  national  debt,  without  wet- 
ting a  sponge.  My  scheme  for  this, 
ladies  and  gem'men,  is  to  unmarry  all 
those  who  choose  it,  on  such  terms  as 
the  minister  shall  think  fit.  This  being 
a  glorious  opportunity  for  women  of 
spirit  to  exert  themselves,  and  regain 
their  long  lost  empire  over  their  hus- 
bands, I  hope  they  will  use  all  their 
coaxing  arts  to  get  me  elected  in  their 
husband's  place;  and  this  will  greatly 
increase  the  influence  of  the  crown,  and 
vastly  lower  India  bonds. 

As  I  detest  the  idea  of  a  placeman,  I 
pledge  myself  not  to  accept  of  anything 
less  than  the  government  of  Duck  Is- 
land, or  the  bishoprick  of  Durham,forl  am 
very  fond  of  a  clean  shirt,  and  lawn 
nlecves,  I  think,  look  well ;  besides,  the 


sine  qua  non  is  the  thing  I  aim  at,  like 
other  great  men.  TheIndiaCompany,too, 
I  will  convey  from  Leadenhall-street  to 
Westminster,  and,  according  to  my  owir 
wig  principle?,  I  will  create  all  the 
directors'  and  nabobs' titles,  and,  besides, 
show  them  how  to  get  what  they  have 
been  long  aiming  at — the  way  to  Botany 
Bay.  I  shall  likewise  prove  the  Excise 
Office  to  be  the  greatest  smuggle  in  the 
nation,  for  they  smuggled  the  ground 
from  the  public  on  which  their  office 
stands,  and  for  which  I  shall  conjure 
up  Old  Gresham's  ghost,  to  read  them  a 
lecture  upon  thieving. 

Like  the  great  men,  1  pledge  my 
honour,  life,  and  fortune,  that  I  will  re- 
move all  heavy  taxes,  and  by  a  glorious 
scheme,  contrived  by  me  and  my  friend 
Lord  George  Gordon,  I  shall,  by  a  phi- 
losophical, aristocratical  thermometer, 
or  such-like  hydraulics,  discover  the 
longitude  among  the  Jews  of  Duke's 
Place,  and  the  secret  of  Masonry. 

City  honours  I  never  courted,  nor 
would  I  give  an  old  wig  to  be  drawn  in 
idle  state  through  Cheapside's  foggy  air 
on  a  9th  of  November. — No,  I  would 
rather  sit  by  the  side  of  my  great  friend 
Mr.  Fox,  in  the  Duke  of  Devonshire's 
coach,  and  make  another  coalition,  or 
go  with  him  to  India,  arid  be  a  gover- 
nor's great  man ;  for, 

Hated  by  fools,  and  fools  to  hate, 
Was  always  Jetfery  Dunstan'a  fate 
Though  my  Lord  George  has  turned 
Jew,  and  wears  a  broom  about  his 
chin*,  I  never  intend  to  do  so  until  his 
informer  is  dead,  or  the  time  elapsed  of 
his  imprisonment  in  the  county  castle, 
when  we  shall  both  go  into  Duke's 
Place,  and  be  sworn  true  friends;  then 
woe  be  to  the  informing  busy  bookseller 
of  Spitalfields,  who  was  lately  turned 
out  of  the  Snogo  for  eating  pork  with 
the  rind  on.  Depend  upon  it  his  win- 
dows shall  chatter  more  Hebrew  than 
he  ever  understood.  All  this  shall  be 
dene  by  me,  in  spite  of  him.  Yes,  by 
me,  your  humble  servant, 

SIR  JEFFERY  DUNSTAN,  M.P. 

*  Lord  George  Gordon,  who  rendered  himself  so 
conspicuous  during  the  riots  ir.  1780,  adopted  in  his 
latter  days  the  habit  and  manners  of  a  Jew.  Ke 
died  November  1,  1793,  in  Newgate-  where  he  had 
been  confined  two  }ears,  for  a  libel  on  the  moral 
and  political  conduct  of  the  Queen  of  France  ;  three 
years  more  for  a  libel  on  the  Empress  of  Russia , 
and  ten  months  longer  for  not  procuring  the  neces- 
sary security  for  enlargement.  His  last  moments 
are  said  to  have  been  imbittered  by  the  knowledge 
that  he  could  not  be  buried  among  the  Jaws;  W 
whose  religion  ha  was  warmly  attached. 


833 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE 


834 


Exparte  DIMSDALE,  Bart. 
"  Two  single  Gentlemen  roll'd  into  one." 

TAKE  NOTICE, 

SKHtytrr  a&,  on  or  upon  the  last  page  but 
one  of  the  last  sheet,  that  is  to  say, 
columns  829  and  830  of  the  Every-Day 
Book,  there  are  two  whole  length  por- 
traits, each  whereof  is  subscribed,  or  in- 
scribed beneath,  with  one  name. 

AND  WHEREAS  each,  and  both,  is  and 
are,  thereby,  that  is  to  say,  by  the  said 
one  name,  called,  or  purported  to  be  call- 
ed, "  Sir  Jeffery  Dunstan,  M.P.  for  Gar- 
rett, &c." 

AND  WHEREAS  the  said  two  engravings 
are  portraits  of  two  several,  separate,  and 
distinct  individuals. 

AND  WHEREAS  it  is  hereby  declared  to 
be  true  and  certain,  and  not  to  be  gain- 
sayed  or  denied,  that  two  neither  are,  nor 
is,  nor  can  be,  one. 

Cfymfore,  ALL  WHOM  IT  MAY  CON- 
CERN are  hereby  intended,  and  required 
to  be  instructed,  and  informed  thereof. 

AND  FURTHER,  that  the  first,  or  top,  or 
uppermost  portrait,  although  subscribed 
"  Sir  Jeffery  Dunstan,  8cc."  is  to  be  seen, 
taken,  and  received,  as  and  for  the  true 
and  faithful  likeness  of  sir  Harry  Dims- 
dale,  Bart.  M.P.  for  Garrett,  and  for  no  or 
none  other. 

AND  FURTHERMORE,  that  the  second, 
or  last  portrait  is,  in  truth,  a  like  true,  and 
faithful  likeness  of  sir  Jeffery  Dunstan, 
as  is  there  truly  stated  : 

AND  MORE,  FURTHERMORE,  that  the 
misnomer,  as  to  the  said  Sir  Harry  Dims- 
dale,  was  unpurposed  and  accidentally 
made  and  written  by  the  undersigned, 
and  overseen  by  the  overseer,  when  the 
same  was  set  up  or  composed  in  type  by 
the  compositor;  and  that  he,  the  said 
compositor,  was  bound  in  duty  riot  to 
think,  but  unthinkingly,  and  without 
thought,  to  do  as  he  did,  that  is  to  say, 
follow  his  copy,  and  not  think : 

ANI>  LASTLY,  that  the  last  portrait, 
subscribed  "  Sir  Jeffery  Dunstan,"  is 
rightly  and  truly  so  subscribed  : 

©ZUIjmfore,  the  portrait  of  the  "  cos- 
mopolite and  muffin  seller"  was,  and  is, 
only,  and  alone,  and  no  other,  than  the 
just  and  faithful  likeness  of  sir  Harry 
le,  according,  and  notwithstanding 
aforesaid. 

THEREFORE,  the  well-disposed  are 

njoined  and   required  to  dele,  or  strike 
,  the  misnomer  thereof,  or  thereto  affix- 

l,  and  in  tender  consideration  of  the  pre- 

VOL.  II.— 79. 


mises  to  forget  and  forgive  the  same, 
which  proceeded  wholly,  solely,  entirely, 
and  unhappily  from  A.  B. 

J«w<?28,1826. 

Attestation,  Sfc. 

Ci)trf  te  to  Ctt'tifg,  that  so  much  of 
the  above  contents'  as  are  within  my 
knowledge,  and  the  whole  thereof,  ac- 
cording to  my  full  and  perfect  belief,  is, 
and  are,  strictly  and  entirely  true  :  And  • 
that  the  signature  thereto  subjoined  is 
true  and  honest,  in  manner  and  form  fol- 
lowing, to  wit, — the  letter  "  A"  is,  of  it- 
self alone,  what  it  purports  to  be,  that  is 
to  say,  "A,"  by  itself,  "A;"  And  the 
letter  "  B,"  in  alphabetical  order,  is,  also 
in  nominal  order,  the  literal  beginning,  or 
initial,  of  the  real  name,  which  is,  or 
ought,  or  is  meant  to  be  attached  thereto, 
namely — "  BLUNDER  :"  And  that  the  said 
"Blunder"  is  altogether  honest,  and  mucli 
to  be  pitied;  and  is  known  so  to  be,  by 
every  one  as  well  acquainted  with  the  said 
"  Blunder,"  and  the  rest  of  the  family,  as 
myself.—  The  Printer. 


MOCK  ELECTION  AT  GARRETT, 
25tk  of  June,  1781. 

This  is  the  burlesque  election  referred 
to  at  column  825,  when  "upwards  of 
50,000  people  were,  on  that  ludicrous  oc- 
casion, assembled  at  Wandsworth." 

That  notice,  with  the  interesting  letter 
concerning  the  origin  of  this  popular  cus- 
tom, from  Mr.  Massey  to  'Dr.  Ducarel, 
on  column  826,  was  inserted  with  other 
particulars,  in  the  last  sheet,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  inciting  attention 'to  the  subject 
and  under  an  expectation  that  the  request 
there  urged,  for  further  information, 
might  be  further  complied  with.  The 
hope  has  been  realized  to  a  certain  extent, 
and  there  will  now  be  placed  before  the 
reader  the  communications  of  correspond- 
ents, and  whatever  has  been  obtained 
from  personal  intercourse  with  those  who 
remember  the  old  elections  for  Garrett. 


To  mention  the  earliest  within  remem- 
brance, it  is  proper  to  say  that  this  public 
burlesque  was  conducted  in  1777  with 
great  spirit;  sir  John  Harper  was  then 
elected,  and  a  man  in  armour  rode  in 
that  procession.  The  name  of  this  cham- 
pion was  "  Jem  Anderson,"  a  breeches- 
maker  of  Waudsworth,  and  a  wonderful 
humorist. 


83.5 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


At  sir  John  Harper's  election,  on  the 
25th  of  June,  1781,  he  had  six  rivals  to 
contend  with.  A  printed  bill  now  before 
the  editor,  sets  forth  their  titles  and  qua- 
lifications in  the  following  manner : — 

"THE  GARRATT  ELECTION. 

*'  The  Possessions  and  Characters  of 
the  Seven  Candidates  that  put  up 
for  that  Great  and  Important 
Office,  called 

THE  MAYOR  OF  GARRETT. 

"  Sir  Jeffery  Dunstan,  sir  William 
Blase,  sir  Christopher  Dashwood, 
sir  John  Harper,  sir  William  Swal- 
low-tail, sir  John  Gnawpost,  and 
sir  Thomas  Nameless. 

"On  Wednesday,  the  25th  instant, 
being  the  day  appointed  for  the  Garrat 
election,  the  candidates  proceeded  from 
different  parts  of  London  to  Garrat-green, 
Wandsworth. 

"  Sir  Jeflfery  Dunstan :  he  is  a  man  of 
low  stature,  but  very  great  in  character 
and  abilities;  his  principal  view  is  to 
serve  his  king  and  country,  his  worthy 
friends  and  himself. 

"  The  next  gentleman  that  offered  him- 
self was  sir  William  Blase,  a  man  of  great 
nonour  and  reputation,  and  was  of  high 
rank  in  the  army,  serving  his  king  and 
country  near  forty  years,  and  had  the 
honour  to  be  a  corporal  in  the  city  train- 
bands, the  last  rebellion. 

"The  third,  admiral  Dashwood,  well 
known  in  the  county  of  Surry,  to  many 
who  has  felt  the  weight  of  his  hand  on 
their  shoulders,  and  shewing  an  execu- 
tion in  the  other. 

"  Sir  John  Harper  is  a  man  of  the 
greatest  abilities  and  integrity,  and  his 
estate  lies  wherever  he  goes ;  his  wants 
are  supplied  by  the  oil  of  his  tongue,  and 
is  of  the  strictest  honour :  he  made  an 
oath  against  work  when  in  his  youth,  and 
was  never  known  to  break  it. 

'•'  Sir  William  Swallow-tail  is  an  emi- 
nent merchant  in  the  county  of  Surry, 
and  supplies  most  of  the  gardeners  with 
strawberry-baskets,  and  others  to  bring 
their  fruit  to  market. 

"  Sir  John  Gnawpost  is  a  man  well 
known  to  the  public ;  he  carries  his  traffic 
under  his  left  arm,  and  there  is  not  a 
schoolboy  in  London  or  Westminster  but 
what  has  had  dealings  with  him:— His 
general  cry  is  '  twenty  if  you  win,  and  five 
if  you  lose.' 


"  Sir  Thomas  Nameless" — of  reputation 
unmentionable. 

Having  thus  described  the  candidates 
from  the  original  printed  "  Hustings  pa- 
per," it  is  proper  to  state  that  its  descrip- 
tion of  them  is  followed  by  a  wood- 
cut representing  two  figures — one,  of 
sir  Jeffery  Dunstan,  in  the  costume  and 
attitude  of  his  portrait  given  at  column 
830,  but  holding  a  pipe  in  his  right  hand, 
and  one  of  another  candidate,  who,  for 
want  of  a  name  to  the  figure,  can  scarcely 
be  guessed  at ;  he  is  in  a  court  dress, 
with  a  star  on  the  right  breast  of  his  coat, 
his  right  arm  gracefully  reposing  in  the 
pocket  of  his  unmentionables,  and  his 
left  hand  holding  a  bag,  which  is  thrown 
over  his  left  shoulder. 

Beneath  that  engraving  is 

"  The  speech  of  sir  Jeffery  Dunstan* 
Bart,  delivered  from  the  hustings. 

"  Gentlemen, 

"  I  am  heartily  glad  to  see  so  great  a 
number  of  my  friends  attend  so  early  on 
the  great  and  important  business  of  this 
day.  If  I  should  be  so  happy  as  to  be 
the  object  of  your  choice,  you  may  depertc 
on  it  that  your  great  requests  shall  be  my 
sole  study  both  asleep  and  awake.  I  am 
determined  to  oppose  lord  N(ort)h  in 
every  measure  he  proposes ;  and  th  *  my 
electors  shall  have  porter  at  threepe.  e  a 
pot;  that  bread  shall  be  sold  at  /bur 
pence  a  quartern  loaf,  and  corn  be 
brought  fairly  to  market,  not  stived  up  in 
granaries  to  be  eat  by  rats  and  mice ;  and 
that  neither  Scotchmen  or  Irishmen  shall 
have  a  seat  in  our  parliament. 

"  Gentlemen,  as  I  am  not  an  orator  or 
personable  man,  be  assured  I  am  an 
honest  member.  Having  been  abused  in 
the  public  papers,  I  am  resolved,  if  it  cost 
me  a  thousand  pounds,  to  take  the  free 
votes  of  the  electors.  It  is  true,  it  has 
cost  me  ten  shillings  for  a  coach,  to  raise 
which,  I  have  pawned  my  cloathes ;  but 
that  I  regard  not,  since  I  am  now  in  a 
situation  to  serve  my  king,  whom  I  wish 
God  to  bless,  also  his  precious  queen, 
who,  under  the  blessing  of  a  king  above, 
hath  produced  a  progeny  which  has  pre- 
saged a  happy  omen  to  this  country. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  can  assure  you  with 
the  greatest  truth,  that  the  cloaths  I  have 
on  are  all  my  own,  for  the  meanness  of 
borrowing  cloaths  to  appear  before  you, 
my  worthy  electors,  I  highly  detest ;  and 
bribery  and  other  meanness  I  abhor; — 


837 


THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK— JUNE  22 


but  if  any  gentleman  chuse  to  give  me 
any  thing,  I  am  ready  to  receive  their 
favours." 

The  above  oration  is  headed  by  "  This 
is  my  original  speech  ;"  below  it  is  added 
as  follows  : — 

"  N.  B.  When  sir  John  Harper's  man 
arrived  on  the  hustings  with  flying  colours, 
he  began  to  insult  sir  Jeffery,  who  imme- 
diately made  him  walk  six  times  round 
the  hustings,  ask  his  honour's  pardon, 
drop  his  colours  and  dismount." 

With  this  information  the  bill  con- 
cludes. 

A  song  printed  at  the  time,  but  now  so 
rare  as  not  to  be  met  with,  further  parti- 
cularizes some  of  the  candidates  at  this 
election.  In  the  absence  of  an  original 
copy,  the  parol  evidence  of  "  old  John 
Jones  of  Wands  worth,"  has  been  admitted 
as  to  certain  verses  which  are  here  record- 
ed accordingly. 

GARRETT  ELECTION  SONG,  1781. 
Recited  by  the  "  ex-master  of  the  horse," 
at  the    "  Plume   of  Feathers,"    Wands- 
worth,  on  the  14th  of  June,  1826. 
At  Garratt,  lackaday,  what  fun  ! 
To  see  the  sifrht  what  thousands  run  f 
Sir  William  Blase,  and  all  his  crew, 
Sure,  it  was  a  droll  sight  to  view. 

Sir  William  Blase,  a  snob  by  trade, 
In  Wandsworth  town  did  there  parade  ; 
With  his  high  cap  and  wooden  sword 
He  look'd  as  noble  as  a  lord! 

Sir  William  Swallowtail  came  next 
In  basket-coach,  so  neatly  drest ; 
With  hand-bells  playing  all  the  way, 
For  Swallowtail,  my  boys,  huzza ! 
Sir  Christopher  Dashwood  so  gay, 
With  drums  and  fifes  did  sweetly  play  ; 
He,  in  a  boat,  was  drawn  along, 
Amongst  a  mighty  gazing  throng. 

In  blue  and  gold  he  grand  appeared, 
Behind  the  boat  old  Pluto  steer'd  ; 
The  Andrew,  riding  by  his  side, 
Across  a  horse,  did  nobly  stride. 
On  sir  John  Harper  next  we  gaze 
All  in  his  carriage,  and  six  bays, 
With  star  upon  his  breast,  so  fine, 
He  did  each  candidate  outshine. 
And  when  he  on  the  hustings  came 
He  bow'd  to  all  in  gallant  strain, 
The  speech  he  made  was  smart  and  cute, 
And  did  each  candidate  confute.  • 
In  this  procession  to  excel, 
The  droll  sir  William  acted  well ; 
And  when  they  came  to  Garrett  green, 
Sure  what  laughing  there  was  seen  ! 


No  Wilkes,  but  liberty,  was  there  ; 
And  every  thing  honest  and  fair, 
For  surely  Garrett  is  the  place, 
Where  pleasure  is,  and  no  disgrace  I 

Sir  William  Swallowtail  was  one  Wil- 
liam Cock,  a  whimsical  basket-maker 
of  Brentford,  who  deeming  it  proper  to 
have  an  equipage  every  way  suitable  to 
the  honour  he  aspired  to,  built  his  own 
carriage,  with  his  own  hands,  to  his  own 
taste.  It  was  made  of  wicker,  and  drawn 
by  four  high  hollow-backed  horses,  where- 
on were  seated  dwarfish  boys,  whimsically 
dressed  for  postilions.  In  allusion  to 
the  American  war,  two  footmen  rode  be- 
fore the  carriage  tarred  and  feathered,  the 
coachman  wore  a  wicker  hat,  and  sir 
William  himself,  from  the  seat  of  his 
vehicle,  maintained  his  mock  dignity  in 
grotesque  array,  amidst  unbounded  ap- 
plause. 

The  song  says,  that  sir  William  Swal- 
lowtail came  "with  hand-bells  playing 
all  the  way,"  and  "old  John  Jones," 
after  he  "  rehearsed"  the  song,  gave  some 
account  of  the  player  on  the  hand-bells. 

The  hand-bell  player  was  Thomas 
Cracknell,  who,  at  that  time,  was  a  pub- 
iican  at  Brentford,  and  kept  the  "  Wilkes's 
Head."  He  had  been  a  cow-boy  in  the 
service  of  lady  Holderness;  and  after  he 
took  that  public-house,  he  so  raised  its 
custom  that  it  was  a  place  of  the  first 
resort  in  Brentford  "  for  man  and  horse." 
With  an  eye  to  business,  as  well  as  a  dis- 
position to  ^waggery,  he  played  the  hand- 
bells in  support  of  sir  William  Swallow- 
tail, as  much  for  the  good  of  the  "  Wilkes's 
Head "  as  in  honour  of  his  neighbour 
Cock,  the  basket-maker,  who,  with  his 
followers,  had  opened  Crackn ell's  house. 
Soon  after  the  election  he  let  the  "  Wilkes's 
Head,"  and  receiving  a  handsome  sum 
for  good-will  and  coming-in,  bound  him- 
self in  a  penalty,  of  20/.  not  to  set  up 
within  ten  miles  of  the  spot.  In  the 
afternoon  of  the  day  he  gave  up  possession, 
he  went  to  his  successor  with  the  20J. 
penalty,  and  informed  him  he  had  taken 
another  house  in  the  neighbourhood.  It 
was  the  sign  of  the  "  Aaron  and  Driver," 
two  race-horses,  of  as  great  celebrity 
as  the  most  favoured  of  the  then  Garrett 
candidates.  Cracknell  afterwards  became 
a  rectifier  or  distiller  at  Brentford. 

Sir  John  Harper  was  by  trade  a  wea- 
ver, and  qualified,  by  power  of  face  and 


839 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


840 


speech,  and  infinite  humour,  to  sustain 
the  burlesque  character  he  assumed.  His 
thief  pretensions  to  represent  Garrett 
tvere  grounded  on  his  reputation,  circu- 
lated in  printed  hand-bills,  which  des- 
cribed him  as  a  "  rectifier  of  mistakes 
and  blunders."  He  made  his  grand  entry 


through  Wandsworth,  into  Garrett,  in  a 
phaeton  and  six  bays,  with  postilions  in 
scarlet  and  silver,  surrounded  by  thou- 
sands of  supporters,  huzzaing,  and  de- 
claring him  to  be  "  able  to  give  any  man 
an  answer '' 


MOCK  ELECTION  FOR  GARRETT. 


Sfofen 


Overturn,  1781 


Long  as  we  live  there'll  be  no  more 

Such  scenes  as  these,  in  days  of  yore, 

When  little  folks  deem'd  great  ones  less, 

And  aped  their  manners  and  address  ; 

When,  further  still  to  counterfeit, 

To  mountebanks  they  gave  a  seat, 

By  virtue  of  a  mobbing  summons, 

As  members  of  the  House  of  Commons. 

Through  Garrett,  then,  a  cavalcade, 

A  long  procession,  longer  made. 

For  why,  the  way  was  not  so  wide 

That  horsemen,  there,  abreast,  could  ride, 

As  they  had  rode,  when  they  came  down, 

In  order  due,  to  Wandsworth  town  ; 


841 


THE  EVERY-DA*  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


0-42 


Whence,  to  the  Leather  Bottle  driven, 

With  shouts  that  rent  the  welkin  given, 

And  given  also,  many  blows 

In  strife,  the  great  "  Sir  John"  arose 

On  high,  in  high  phaeton,  stood, 

And  pledged  his  last,  best,  drop  of  blood, 

As  sure  as  he  was  "  Harper/'  to 

Undo  all  things  that  wouldn't  do, 

And  vow'd  he'd  do,  as  well  as  undo, 

He'd  do — in  short,  he'd  do — what  none  do  : 

Although  his  speech,  precisely,  is 

Unknown,  yet  here,  concisely,  is 

Related  all,  which,  sought  with  pains, 

Is  found  to  be  the  last  remains, 

Of  all,  at  Garrett,  done  and  said ; 

And  more  than  elsewhere  can  be  read. 


The  preceding  engraving  is  from  a 
large  drawing,  by  Green,  of  a  scene  at 
this  election  in  1781,  taken  on  the  spot. 
Until  now,  this  drawing  has  not  been 
submitted  to  the  public  eye. 

In  the  above  accurate  representation  of 
the  spot,  the  sign  of  the  Leather  Bottle  in 
Garrett-latie  is  conspicuous.  Its  site  at 
that  time  was  different  from  that  of  the 
present  public-house  bearing  that  name. 

It  is  further  observable,  that  "  Harper 
for  ever"  is  inscribed  on  the  phaeton  of 
the  mock  candidate  for  the  mock  honours 
of  the  mock  electors ;  and  that  the  candi- 
date himself  is  in  the  act  of  haranguing 
his  worthy  constituents,  some  of  whose 
whimsical  dresses  will  give  a  partial  idea 
of  the  whimsical  appearance  of  the  as- 
sembled multitude.  Every  species  of 
extravagant  habiliment  seems  to  have 
been  resorted  to.  The  little  humourist  in  a 
large  laced  cocked  hat,  and  his  donkey  in 
trappings,  are  particularly  rich,  and 
divide  the  attention  of  the  people  on  foot 
with  sir  John  Harper  himself.  The  ven- 
der of  a  printed  paper,  in  a  large  wig,  leers 
round  at  him  in  merry  glee.  The  sweeps, 
elevated  on  their  bit  of  "  come-up,"  are 
attracted  by  the  popular  candidate,  whose 
voice  seems  rivalled  by  the  patient  ani- 
mal, from  whose  back  they  are  cheering 
their  favourite  man. 

In  this  election,  we  find  the  never-to- 
be-forgotten  sir  Jeifery  Dunstan,  who  it 
is  not  right  to  pass  without  saying  some- 
thing more  of  him  than  that  on  this  oc- 
casion he  was  a  mere  candidate,  and 
unsuccessful.  He  succeeded  afterwards  to 
the  seat  he  sought,  and  will  be  particu- 
.arly  noticed  hereafter;  until  when,  it 
would  perhaps  be  more  appropriate  to 
defer  what  is  about  to  be  offered  respect- 
ing him ;  but  the  distinguished  favour  of  a 


communication  from  C.  L.  on  such  a 
subject,  seems  to  require  a  distinguished 
place ;  his  paper  is  therefore  selected  to 
prematurely  herald  the  fame  of  the 
celebrated  crier  of  "  old  wigs "  in  odd 
fashioned  days,  when  wigs  were  a  com- 
mon and  necessary  addition  to  every 
person's  dress. 

REMINISCENCE  OF  SIR  JEFFERY  DUNSTAN 
BY  C.  L. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
To  your  account  of  sir  Jeffery  Dunstan 
in  columns  829-30  (where,  by  an  un- 
fortunate Erratum  the  effigies  of  two  Sir 
Jefferys  appear,  when  the  uppermost 
figure  is  clearly  meant  for  sir  Harry 
Dimsdale)  you  may  add,  that  the  writer 
of  this  has  frequently  met  him  in  his 
latter  days,  about  1 790  or  1791,  returning 
in  an  evening,  after  his  long  day's  itine- 
rancy, to  his  domicile — a  wretched  shed 
in  the  most  beggarly  purlieu  of  Bethnal 
Green,  a  little  on  this  side  the  Mile-end 
Turnpike.  The  lower  figure  in  that  leaf 
most  correctly  describes  his  then  appear- 
ance, except  that  no  graphic  art  can  con- 
vey an  idea  of  the  general  squalor  of  it, 
and  of  his  bag  (his  constant  concomitant) 
in  particular.  Whether  it  contained 
"  old  wigs"  at  that  time  I  know  not,  but 
it  seemed  a  fitter  repository  for  bones 
snatched  out  of  kennels,  than  for  any 
part  of  a  Gentleman's  dress  even  at 
second  hand. 

The  Ex-member  for  Garrat  was  a  me- 
lancholy instance  of  a  great  man  whose 
popularity  is  worn  out.  He  still  carried 
his  sack,  but  it  seemed  a  part  of  his 
identity  rather  than  an  implement  of  his 
profession;  a  badge  of  past  grandeur; 
could  any  thing  have  divested  him  oif 
that,  he  would  have  shown  a  "  poor 


843 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


841 


forked  animal"  indeed.  My  life  upon  it, 
it  contained  no  curls  at  the  time  I  speak 
of.  The  most  decayed  and  spiritless 
remnants  of  what  was  once  a  peruke 
would  have  scorned  the  filthy  case  ;  would 
absolutely  have  "burst  its  cearments." 
No,  it  was  empty,  or  brought  home  bones, 
or  a  few  cinders  possibly.  A  strong 
odour  of  burnt  bones,  I  remember,  blend- 
ed with  the  scent  of  horse-flesh  seething 
into  dog's  meat,  and  only  relieved  a  little 
by  the  breathings  of  a  few  brick  kilns, 
made  up  the  atmosphere  of  the  delicate 
suburban  spot,  which  this  great  man  had 
chosen  for  the  last  scene  of  his  earthly 
vanities.  The  cry  of  "  old  wigs  "  had 
ceased  with  the  possession  of  any  such 
fripperies  ;  his  sack  might  have  contained 
not  unaptly  a  little  mould  to  scatter  upon 
that  grave,  to  which  he  was  now  advanc- 
ing; but  it  told  of  vacancy  and  desola- 
tion. His  quips  were  silent  too,  and  his 
brain  was  empty  as  his  sack;  he  slank 
along,  and  seemed  to  decline  popular  ob- 
servation. If  a  few  boys  followed  him, 
it  seemed  rather  from  habit,  than  any 
expectation  of  fun. 


Alas  !  haw  changed  from  Atm, 
The  life  of  humour,  and  the  soul  of  whim, 
Gallant  and  gay  on  Garrat's  hustings  proud. 


But  it  is  thus  that  the  world  rewards  its 
favourites  in  decay.  What  faults  he  had,  I 
know  not.  I  have  heard  something  of  a 
peccadillo  or  so.  But  some  little  devia- 
tion from  the  precise  line  of  rectitude, 
might  have  been  winked  at  in  so  tortuous 
and  stigmatic  a  frame.  Poor  Sir  Jeffery  ! 
it  were  well  if  some  M.  P.*s  in  earnest 
have  passed  their  parliamentary  existence 
with  no  more  offences  against  integrity, 
than  could  be  laid  to  thy  charge  !  A  fair 
dismissal  was  thy  due,  not  so  unkind  a 
degradation;  some  little  snug  retreat, 
with  a  bit  of  green  before  thine  eyes,  and 
not  a  burial  alive  in  the  fetid  beggaries  of 
Bethnal.  Thou  wouldst  have  ended  thy 
days  in  a  manner  more  appropriate  to  thy 
pristine  dignity,  installed  in  munificent 
mockery  (as  in  mock  honours  you  had 
lived)—  a  Poor  Knight  of  Windsor  ! 

Every  distinct  place  of  public  speaking 
demands  an  oratory  peculiar  to  itself. 
The  forensic  fails  within  the  walls  of  St. 
Stephen.  Sir  Jeffery  was  a  living  instance 
of  this,  for  in  the  flower  of  his  popularity 
an  attempt  was  made  to  bring  him  out 
upon  tae  stage  (at  which  of  the  winter 
theatres  I  forget,  but  I  well  remember  the 


anecdote)  in  the  part  of  Doctor  Last* 
The  announcement  drew  a  crowded  house ; 
but  notwithstanding  infinite  tutoring — 
by  Foote,  or  Garrick,  I  forget  which — 
when  the  curtain  drew  up,  the  heart  of 
Sir  Jeffery  failed,  and  he  faultered  on, 
and  made  nothing  of  his  part,  till  the 
hisses  of  the  house  at  last  in  very  kind- 
ness dismissed  him  from  the  boards. 
Great  as  his  parliamentary  eloquence  had 
shown  itself;  brilliantly  as  his  off-hand 
sallies  had  sparkled  on  a  hustings  ;  they 
here  totally  failed  him.  Perhaps  he  had 
an  aversion  to  borrowed  wit;  and,  like 
my  Lord  Foppington,  disdained  to  enter- 
tain himself  (or  others)  with  the  forced 
products  of  another  man's  brain.  Your 
man  of  quality  is  more  diverted  with  the 
natural  sprouts  of  his  own. 

C.L. 


THE  GARRETT  OATH. 

Almost  all  that  can  be  said  of  the  oath 
of  qualification,  administered  to  the  elec- 
tors at  the  Garrett  hustings,  has  been 
already  said  in  the  letter  to  Dr.  Ducarel, 
on  column  826.  It  was  printed,  aud 
from  one  of  these  once  manifold  docu- 
ments, which  are  now  so  rare  as  not  to  be 
attainable  in  a  perfect  state,  the  following 
title,  &c.  is  copied  literally. 

"The 
OATH 

of 
QUALIFICATION 

for  the 
Ancient  Borough  of 

GARRAT 

According  as  it  stands  in  the 
Old  Record  handed  down  to  nt 

By  the 

GRAND  VOLGEE 

by  order  of  the  Great 

CHIN  RAW  CHIPO 

First  EMPEROR  of  the  MOON 

Anno  Mundi  75. 

"  THAT  you  have  been  admitted  peace- 
ably and  quietly  into  possession  of  a 
Freehold — 

*  #         *         * 

[Here  the  original,  referred  to,  is  so  de- 
fective as  not  to  be  copyable. } 

*  *        *        * 

**  within  the  said  manor  of  GAK- 

RAT  ;  and  that  you  did   (bona  fide)  keep 


*  It  was  at  the  Hayniaiket  theatre.     EAior. 


845 


THE  EVERY-DA\   BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


(ad  rent)  possession (durante  bene 

pladto)  without  any  let,  suit,  hindrance, 
or  molestation  whatever     • 

*         *        *        * 

"  SWORN  (coram  nobis)  at  our  v 
Great    Hall    on    Garrat    Green,  I 
covered  with  the  plenteous  harvest  > 
of  the  Goddess  Ceres,  and  dedi-  | 
cated  to  the  Jovial  God  Cornus."^ 

More  than  this  it  is  not  possible  to 
give  of  the  Garrett  oath. 

During  a  Garrett  election  all  Wands- 
worth was  in  an  uproar.  It  was  the  re- 
sort of  pe°ple  of  all  descriptions,  and 
the  publicans  entertained  them  as  con- 
veniently as  possible ;  yet,  on  one  occa- 
sion, the  influx  of  visiters  was  so  immense 
that  every  ordinary  beverage  was  ex- 
hausted, and  water  sold  at  twopence  a 
glass. 


By  "  old  John  Jones,"  "  the  doings  at 
Wandsworth"  on  the  election  day  are 
described  as  ft  past  description." 

Besides  the  "  hustings "  at  Garrett, 
scaffoldings  and  booths  were  erected  in 
Wandsworth  at  every  open  space  :  these 
were  filled  with  spectators  to  the  topmost 
rows,  and  boys  climbed  to  the  tops  of  the 
poles ;  flags  and  colours  were  hung  across 
the  road ;  and  the  place  was  crowded  by  a 
dense  population  full  of  activity  and 
noise.  For  accommodation  to  view  the 
humours  of  the  day  extraordinary  prices 
were  paid  to  the  proveditors. 

John  Jones  remembers  "  when  Foote 
the  player  came  to  Wandsworth,  to  have 
a  full  view  of  all  the  goings  on."  Ac- 
cording to  his  account,  the  English  Aris- 
tophanes "  paid  nine  guineas  for  the 
fore  room  at  surgeon  Squire's,  facing  the 
church,  for  himself  and  his  friends  to  sit 
in  and  see  the  fun."  There  was  an  im- 
mense scaffolding  of  spectators  and  mob- 
orators,  at  the  corner  by  the  churchyard, 
opposite  the  window  where  Foote  and  his 
companions  were  seated. 

It  has  been  already  noticed,  that  Foote 
dramatised  this  mock  election  by  his 
"  Mayor  of  Garratt :"  the  first  edition, 
printed  in  1 764,  is  called  "  a  comedy  in 
two  acts;  as  it  is  performed  at  the  thea- 


846 

tre-royal  in  Drury-lane."  On  turning  tc 
the  "  dramatis  persona?,"  it  will  be  foun 
he  performed  Major  Sturgeon  himself 
and,  likewise,  Matthew  Mug  in  the  same 
piece :  Mrs.  Clive  playing  Mis.  Sneak  to 
Weston's  Jerry  Sneak. 

Foote's  «  Mayor  of  Garratt  "  nay  be 
deemed  an  outline  of  the  prevailing  drol- 
lery and  manners  x>f  the  populace  at 
Wandsworth  :  a  scene  or  two  here  will  be 
amusing  and  in  place.  This  dramatist 
sketched  so  much  from  the  life,  that  it  is 
doubtful  whether  every  marked  character 
m  his  «  comedy"  had  not  its  living  origi- 
nal. It  is  certain,  that  he  drew  Major 
Sturgeon  from  old  Justice  Lamb,  a  fish- 
monger at  Acton,  and  a  petty  trading 
justice,  whose  daughter  was  married  by 
Major  Fleming,  a  gentleman  also  "  in 
the  commission  of  the  peace,"  yet  every 
way  a  more  respectable  man  than  his 
father-in-law. 

Referring,  then,  to  Foote's  "  comedy," 
sir  Jacob  Jollup,  who  has  a  house  at  Gar- 
ratt, holds  a  dialogue  with  his  man  Roger 
concerning  the  company  they  expect — 

SirJ.  Are  the  candidates  near  upon 
coming? 

Roger.  NIC  Goose,  the  tailor  from  Put- 
ney, they  say,  will  be  here  in  a  crack,  sir 
Jacob. 

Sir  J.  Has.  Margery  fetch'd  in  the 
linen  ? 

Roger.  Yes,  sir  Jacob. 

Sir  J.  Are  the  pigs  and  the  poultry 
lock'd  up  in  the  barn  ? 

Roger.  Safe,  sir  Jacob. 

Sir  J.  And  the  plate  and  spoons  in  the 
pantry  ? 

Roger.  Yes,  sir  Jacob. 

Sir  J.  Then  give  me  the  key  ;  the  mob 
will  soon  be  upon  us ;  and  all  is  fish  that 
comes  to  their  net.  Has  Ralph  laid  the 
cloth  in  the  hall  ? 

Roger.  Yes,  sir  Jacob. 

Sir  J.  Then  let  him  bring  out  the 
turkey  and  chine,  and  be  sure  there  is 
plenty  of  mustard;  and,  d'ye  hear, 
Roger,  do  you  stand  yourself  at  the  gate, 
and  be  careful  who  you  let  in. 

Roger.  I  will,  sir  Jacob.  [exit. 

Sir  J.  So,  now  I  believe  thing;  are 
pretty  secure. — 

Mob.  [Without^  Huzza! 
Re-enter  Roger. 

Sir  J.  What's  the  matter  now,  Roger? 

Roger.  The  electors  desire  to  know  if 


847 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


848 


your  worship  has  any  body  to  recom- 
mend ( 

Sir  J.  By  no  means;  let  them  be  free 
in  their  choice  :  I  shan't  interfere. 

Roger.  And  if  your  worship  has  any 
objection  to  Crispin  Heeltap,  the  cobler, 
being  returning  officer  ? 

Sir  J:  None,  provided  the  rascal  can 
keep  himself  sober.  Is  he  there  ? 

Roger. Yes,  sir  Jacob.  Make  way  there  ! 
stand  further  off  from  the  gate :  here  is 
madam  Sneak  in  a  chaise  along  with  her 
husband. 

Sir  Jacob  has  work  enough  on  his  hands 
with  his  relations,  and  other  visiters,  who 
have  arrived  to  see  the  election  from  his 
mansion;  he  calls  his  "son  Bruin"  to 
come  in  ; — "  we  are  all  seated  at  table 
man  ;  we  have  but  just  time  for  a  snack  ; 
the  candidates  are  near  upon  coming.*' 

Then,  in  another  scene, — 

Enter  Mob,  with  Heeltap  at  their  head; 
some  crying  "  a  Goose,"  others  "  a 
Mug?  others  "  a  Primmer." 

Heel.  Silence,  there;  silence! 

1  Afol    Hear  neighbour  Heeltap. 

2  Mob.  Ay,  ay,  hear  Crispin. 

3  Mob.  Ay,  ay,  hear  him,  hear  Crispin : 
he  will   put  us   into   the  model  of  the 
thing  at  once. 

Heel.  Why  then,  silence !    I  say. 

AH.  Silence. 

Heel.  Silence,  and  let  us  proceed, 
neighbours,  with  all  the  decency  and  con- 
fusion usual  on  these  occasions. 

1  Mob.  Ay,  ay,  there  is  no  doing  with- 
out that. 

AIL  No,  no,  no. 

Heel.  Silence  then,  and  keep  the  peace ; 
what !  is  there  no  respect  paid  to  authority? 
Am  not  I  the  returning  officer? 

All  Ay,  ay,  ay. 

Heel  Chosen  by  yourselves,  and  ap- 
proved of  by  sir  Jacob? 

All.  True,  true. 

Heel.  Well  then,  be  silent  and  civil ; 
stand  back  there  that  gentleman  without 
a  shirt,  and  make  room  for  your  betters. 
Where's  Simon  Snuffle  the  sexton  ? 

Snuffle.  Here. 

Heel.  Let  him  come  forward;  we  ap- 
point him  our  secretary :  for  Simon  is  a 
scollard,  and  can  read  written  hand  ;  and 
so  let  him  be  respected  accordingly. 

3  Mob.  Room  for  master  Snuffle. 

Heel.  Here,  stand  by  me :  and  let  us, 
neighbours,  proceed  to  open  the  premu- 
nire  of  the  thing :  but  first,  your  reverence 
to  the  lord  of  the  manor :  a  long  life  and 


a  merry  one  to  our  landlord,  sir  Jacob 
huzza ! 

Mob.  Huzza  1 

Sneak.  How  fares  it,  honest  Crispin  ? 

Heel.  Servant,  master  Sneak.  Let  us 
now  open  the  premunire  of  the  thing, 
which  I  shall  do  briefly, .with  all  the  lo- 
quacity possible;  that  is,  in  a  medium 
way;  which,  that  we  may  the  better  do 
it,  let  the  secretary  read  the  names  of 
the  candidates,  and  what  they  say  for 
themselves ;  and  then  we  shall  know 
what  to  say  of  them.  Master  Snuffle, 
begin. 

Snuffle.  [Reads.]  "  To  the  worthy  in- 
habitants of  the  ancient  corporation  of 
Garratt:  gentlemen,  your  votes  and  in- 
terest are  humbly  requested  in  favour  of 
Timothy  Goose,  to  succeed  your  late 
worthy  mayor,  Mr.  Richard  Dripping-, 
in  the  said  office,  he  being" 

Heel:  This  Goose  is  but  a  kind  of  gos- 
ling, a  sort  of  sneaking  scoundrel.  Who 
is  he? 

Snuffle.  A  journeyman  tailor  from  Put- 
ney. 

HeeL  A  journeyman  tailor!  A  rascal, 
has  he  the  impudence  to  transpire  to  be 
mayor?  D'ye  consider,  neighbours,  the 
weight  of  this  office  ?  WThy,  it  is  a  bur- 
then for  the  back  of  a  porter;  and  can 
you  think  that  this  cross-legg'd  cabbage- 
eating  son  of  a  cucumber,  this  whey- 
fac'd  ninny,  who  is  but  the  ninth  part  of 
a  man,  has  strength  to  support  it? 

1  Mob.  No  Goose !  no  Goose  I 

2  Mob.  A  Goose! 

Heel.  Hold  your  hissing,  and  proceed 
to  the  next. 

Snuffle.  [Reads.]  "  Your  votes  are  de- 
sired tor  Matthew  Mug." 

1  Mob.  A  Mug!  a  Mug! 

Heel:  Oh,  oh,  what  you  are  ready  to 
have  a  touch  of  the  tankard ;  but  fair  and 
soft,  good  neighbours,  let  us  taste  this 
master  Mug  before  we  swallow  him ;  and, 
unless  I  am  mistaken,  you'll  find  him  a 
bitter  draught. 

1  Mob.  A  Mug!  a  Mug! 

2  Mob.  Hear  him  ;  hear  master  Heeltap.  • 
1  Mob.  A  Mug !  a  Mug ! 

Heel  Harkye,  you  fellow  with  your 
mouth  full  of  Mug,  let  me  ask  you  a  ques- 
tion :  bring  him  forward.  Pray  is  not 
this  Matthew  Mug  a  victualler? 

3  Mob.  I  believe  he  may. 

Heel  And  lives  at  the  sign  of  the 
Adam  and  Eve? 

3  Mob.  I  believe  he  may. 

Heel  Now,  answer  upon  your  honour 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


85C 


and  as  you  are  a  gentleman,  what  is  the 
present  price  of  a  quart  of  home-brew'd 
at  the  Adam  and  Eve? 

3  Mob.  I  don't  know. 

Heel.  You  lie,  sirrah  :  an't  it  a  groat? 

3  Mob.  I  believe  it  may. 

Heel.  Oh,  may  be  so.  Now,  neigh- 
bours, here's  a  pretty  rascal ;  this  same 
Mug,  because,  d'ye  see,  state  affairs 
would  not  jog  glibly  without  laying  a  far- 
thing a  quart  upon  ale;  this  scoundrel, 
not  contented  to  take  things  in  a  medium 
way,  has  had  the  impudence  to  raise  it  a 
penny. 

Mob.  No  Mug!  no  Mug! 

Heel.  So,  I  thought  I  should  crack  Mr. 
Mug.  Come,  proceed  to  the  next,  Simon. 

Snuffle.  The  next  upon  the  list  is  Peter 
Primmer,  the  schoolmaster. 

Heel.  Ay,  neighbours,  and  a  sufficient 
man  :.  let  me  tell  you,  master  Primmer  is 
a  man  for  my  money  ;  a  man  of  learning, 
that  can  lay  down  the  law  :  why,  adzooks, 
he  is  wise  enough  to  puzzle  the  parson ; 
and  then,  how  you  have  heard  him  ora- 
tion at  the  Adam  and  Eve  of  a  Saturday 
night,  about  Russia  and  Prussia.  ;Ecod, 
George  Gage,  the  exciseman,  is  nothing 
at  all  to  un. 

4  Mob.  A  Primmer. 
Heel.  Ay,  if  the  folks  above  did  but 
know  him.     Why,  lads,  he  will  make  us 
all  statesmen  in  time. 

2  Mob.  Indeed  ! 

Heel.  Why,  he  swears  as  how  all  the 
miscarriages  are  owing  to  the  great  peo- 
ple's not  learning  to  read, 

3  Mob.  Indeed! 

Heel.  "For,"  says  Peter,  says  he,  "if 
they  would  but  once  submit  to  be  learned 
by  me,  there  is  no  knowing  to  what  a 
pitch  the  nation  might  rise." 

1  Mob.  Ay,  I  wish  they  would. 

Sneak.  Crispin,  what,  is  Peter  Primmer 
a  candidate  ? 

Heel.  He  is,  master  Sneak. 

Sneak.  Lord  I  know  him,  mun,  as  well 


as  my  mother :  why,  I  used  to  go  to  his 
lectures  to  Pewterers'-hall,  'long  with  de- 
puty Firkin. 

Heel.  Like  enough. 

Mob.  [Without^  Huzza  ! 

Heel.  Gad-so !  the  candidates  are  com- 
ing. [Exeunt  Mob,  fyc. 

Re-enter   Sir  Jacob  Jollup,  Bruin,    and 
Mrs.  Bruin,  through  the  garden  gate. 

Sir  J.  Well,  son  Bruin,  how  d'ye  relish 
the  corporation  of  Garratt  ? 

Bruin.  Why,  lookye,  sir  Jacob,  my 
way  is  always  to  speak  what  I  think ;  I 
don't  approve  on't  at  all. 

Mrs.  B.  No  ? 

Sir  J.  And  what's  your  objection  ? 

Bruin.  Why,  I  was  never  over  fond  of 
your  May-games :  besides  corporations 
are  too  serious  things ;  they  are  edgetools, 
sir  Jacob. 

Sir  J.  That  they  are  frequently  tools,  I 
can  readily  grant :  but  I  never  heard  much 
of  their  edge. 

Afterwards  we  find  the  knight  exclaim- 
ing— 

Sir  J.  Hey-day !  What,  is  the  election 
over  already  ? 

Enter  Crispin,  Heeltap,  8$c. 

Heel.  Where  is  master  Sneak ! 

Sneak.  Here,  Crispin. 

Heel.  The  ancient  corporation  of  Gar- 
ratt, in  consideration  of  your  great  parts 
and  abilities,  and  out  of  respect  to  their 
landlord,  sir  Jacob,  have  unanimously 
chosen  you  mayor. 

Sneak.  Me?  huzza!  Good  lord,  who 
vould  have  thought  it?  But  how  came 
master  Primmer  to  lose  it  ? 

Heel.  Why,  Phil  Fleam  had  told  the 
electors,  that  master  Primmer  was  an 
Irishman;  and  so  they  would  none  of 
them  give  their  vote  for  a  foreigner. 

Sneak.  So  then  I  have  it  for  certain. 
[Huzza  I 


THE  E  VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


852 


ELECTION  FOR   GARRETT, 
Jime  25,  1781. 


r  OTtllt'am  anlr 


BETWEEN    THE    SPREAD   EAGLE    AND    THE    RAM    AT    WAND8WORTH,  ON    THE    ROAD 

TO    GARRETT. 


This  engraving  is  from  another  large 
unpublished  drawing  by  Green,  and  is 
very  curious.  Being  topographically  cor- 
rect, it  represents  the  signs  of  the  inns  at 
Wandsworth  as  they  then  stood ;  the 
Spread  Eagle  carved  on  a  pillar,  and  the 
Ram  opposite  painted  and  projecting. 
The  opening,  seen  between  the  buildings 
on  the  Spread  Eagle  side,  is  the  com- 
mencement of  Garrett-lane,  which  runs 
from  Wandsworth  to  Tooting,  and  in- 
cludes the  mock  borough  of  Garrctt. 


This  animated  scene  is  full  of  character. 
The  boat  is  drawn  by  horses,  which  could 
not  be  conspicuously  represented  here 
without  omitting  certain  bipeds ;  it  is  in 
the  act  of  turning  up  Garrett-lane.  Its 
chief  figure  is  *'  my  lady  Blase"  dressed 
beyond  the  extreme,  and  into  broad  cari- 
cature of  the  fashion  of  the  times.  "I  re- 
member her  very  well,"  says  Mrs.  , 

of  Wandsworth,  «•'  and  so  I  ought,  for  I 
had  a  good  hand  in  the  dressing  of  her.  I 
helped  to  put  together  many  a  good  pound 


853 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


854 


of  wool  to  make  her  hair  up.  T  suppose 
it  was  more  than  three  feet  high  at  least : 
and  as  for  her  stays,  I  also  helped  to  make 
them,  down  in  Anderson's  barn :  they 
were  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  washing 
tub  without  the  bottom,  well  covered,  and 
bedizened  outside  to  look  like  a  sto- 
macher. She  was  to  be  the  lady  of  sir 
William  Blase,  one  of  the  candidates,  and, 
as  she  sat  in  his  boat,  she  was  one  of  the 
drollest  creatures,  for  size  and  dress,  that 
ever  was  seen.  I  was  quite  a  girl  at  the 
time,  and  we  made  her  as  comical  and  as 
fine  as  possible." 

In  Green's  drawing,  here  engraven  in 
miniature,  there  is  an  excellent  group, 
which  from  reduction  the  original  has 
rendered  almost  too  small  to  be  noticed 
without  thus  pointing  it  out.  It  consists 
of  a  fellow,  who  appears  more  fond  of  his 
dog  than  of  his  own  offspring;  for,  to 
give  the  animal  as  good  a  sight  of  lady 
Blase  as  he  had  himself,  he  seats  him  on 
his  own  shoulders,  and  is  insensible  to  the 
entreaty  of  one  of  his  children  to  occupy 
the  dog's  place.  His  wife,  with  another 
child  by  her  side,  carries  a  third  with  its 
arms  thrust  into  the  sleeves  of  her  hus- 
band's coat,  which  the  fellow  has  pulled 
off,  and  given  her  to  take  care  of,  without 
the  least  regard  to  its  increase  of  her  living 
burthen.  Before  them  are  dancing  dogs, 
which  have  the  steady  regard  of  a  lt  most 
thinking"  personage  in  a  large  wig.  An- 
other wigged,  or,  rather,  an  over-wigged 
character,  is  the  little  crippled  "  dealer 
and  chapman,"  who  is  in  evident  fear  of 
a  vociferous  dog,  which  is  encouraged  to 
alarm  him  by  a  mischievous  urchin.  The 
one-legged  veteran,  with  a  crutch  and  a 
glass  in  his  hand,  seems  mightily  to  enjoy 
the  two  horsemen  of  the  mop  and  broom. 
We  see  that  printed  addresses  were  post- 
ed, by  an  elector  giving  his  unmixed  at- 
tention to  one  of  them  pasted  on  the  Ram 
sign-post.  The  Pierrot-dressed  character, 
with  spectacles  and  a  guitar,  on  an  ass 
led  by  a  woman,  is  full  of  life  ;  and  the 
celebrated  "  Sam  House,"  the  bald-head- 
ed publican  of  Westminster,  with  a  pot  in 
his  hand,  is  here  enjoying  the  burlesque 
of  an  election,  almost  as  much,  perhaps, 
as  he  did  the  real  one  in  his  own  "  city 
and  liberties"  the  year  before,  when  he 
distinguished  himself,  by  his  activity,  in 
behalf  of  Mr.  Fox,  whose  cause  he  always 
zealously  supported  by  voice  and  fist. 

The  last  Westminster  election,  wherein 
Sam  House  engaged,  was  in  t784,  when 


on  voting,  and  being  asked  his  trade  by 
the  poll-clerk,  he  answered,  "  I  am  a  pub- 
lican and  republican/'  This  memorable 
contest  is  described  by  the  well-known 
colonel  Hanger.  He  says  : — 

"  The  year  I  came  to  England  the  con- 
tested election  for  Westminster,  (Fox, 
Hood,  and  Wray,  candidates,)  took  place. 
The  walking  travellers,  Spillard  and  Stew- 
art ;  the  Abyssinian  Bruce,  who  feasted 
on  steaks  cut  from  the  rump  of  a  living 
ox ;  and  various  others,  who,  in  their  ex- 
tensive travels,  encountered  wild  beasts, 
serpents,  and  crocodiles  ;  breakfasted  and 
toasted  muffins  on  the  mouth  of  a  folcano  ; 
whom  hunger  compelled  to  banquet  with 
joy  on  the  leavings  of  a  lion  or  tiger,  or 
on  the  carcase  of  a  dead  alligator  ;  who 
boast  of  smoking  the  pipe  of  peace  with 
the  little  carpenter,  and  the  mad  dog  ;  on 
having  lived  on  terms  of  the  strictest  inti- 
macy with  the  Cherokees,  the  Chickasaws, 
the  Chuctaws,  and  with  all  the  aivs  and 
ees  of  that  immense  continent,  who  from 
the  more  temperate  shore  of  the  Missis  • 
sippi,  have  extended  their  course  to  the 
burning  soil  of  India,  and  to  the  banks  of 
the  Ganges  ;  from  the  frozen  ocean  to  the 
banks  of  the  more  genial  Po ; — may  boast 
their  experience  of  the  world,  and  their 
knowledge  of  human  life  :  but  no  one,  in 
my  opinion,  has  seen  real  life,  or  can 
know  it,  unless  he  has  taken  an  active 
part  in  a  contested  election  for  Westmin- 
ster ! 

"In  no  school  can  a  man  be  taught 
a  better  lesson  of  human  life ; — there  can 
he  view  human  nature  in  her  basest  at- 
tire; riot,  murder,  and  drunkenness,  are 
the  order  of  the  day,  and  bribery  and  per- 
jury walk  hand  in  hand  : — -for  men  who 
had  no  pretensions  to  vote^  were  to  be 
found  in  the  garden  in  as  great  plenty  as 
turnips,  and  at  a  very  moderate  rate  were 
induced  to  poll. 

"  A  gentleman,  to  make  himself  of  any 
considerable  use  to  either  party,  must 
possess  a  number  of  engaging,  familiar, 
and  condescending  qualities;  he  must 
help  a  porter  up  with  his  load,  shake 
hands  with  a  fisherman,  pull  his  hat  cff 
to  an  oyster  wench,  kiss  a  ballad-singer, 
and  be  familiar  with  a  beggar.  If,  in  ad- 
dition to  these  amiable  qualities,  he  is  a 
tolerable  good  boxer,  can  play  a  good 
stick,  and  in  the  evening  drink  a  pailful 
of  all  sorts  of  liquors,  in  going  the  rounds 
to  solicit  voters  at  their  various  clubs, 
then,  indeed,  he  is  a  most  highly  finished 
useful  agent.  In  all  the  above  accom- 


855 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


856 


plishments  and  sciences,  except  drinking, 
which  I  never  was  fond  of,  I  have  the 
•anity  to  believe  that  I  arrived  nearer  to 
perfection  than  any  of  my  rivals.  I  should 
be  ungrateful,  indeed,  if  I  did  not  testify 
my  thanks  to  those  gallant  troops  of  high 
rank  and  distinguished  fame — the  knights 
of  the  strap,  and  the  black  diamond 
knights,  (the  Irish  chairmen  and  coal 
heavers,)  who  displayed  such  bravery  and 
attachment  to  our  cause."* 

This  was  the  cause  to  which  Sam  House 
was  attached;  and,  perhaps,  there  was 
not  greater  difference  between  the  scenes 
described  by  Hanger,  and  those  at  Gar- 
rett,  than  between  the  same  scenes,  and 
more  recent  ones,  on  similar  occasions  in 
the  same  city. 

What  has  hitherto  been  related  con- 
cerning the  Garrett  election,  in  1781,  is  in 
consequence  of  the  editor  having  had  re- 
course to  the  remarkable  drawings  from 
whence  the  present  engravings  have  been 
made.  From  that  circumstance  he  was 
strongly  induced  to  inquire  concerning  it, 
and,  as  a  faithful  historian,  he  has  record- 
ed only  what  he  is  able  to  authenticate. 
A  few  facts  relating  to  the  elections  be- 
tween that  period  and  a  much  later  one, 
are  so  blended  as  to  defy  positive  appro- 
priation to  particular  dates,  from  want  of 
accurate  recollection  in  the  persons  relat- 
ing them;  they  are,  therefore,  annex- 
ed, as  general  traits  of  the  usual  mode  of 
conducting  these  burlesques. 

At  one  of  the  Garrett  elections,  after 
1781,  there  was  a  sir  Christopher  Dash 'em 
started  as  candidate.  "  Old  John  Jones" 
says  he  was  a  waterman,  that  his  real 
name  was  Christopher  Beachharn,  (per- 
haps Beauchamp,)  that  he  was  a  fellow  of 
"  exceeding  humour"  and  ready  wit,  and, 
as  an  instance  of  it,  that  being  carried  be- 
fore a  magistrate  for  cutting  fences  and 
posts,  the  justice  was  informed  that  the 
delinquent  was  no  other  than  the  celebrat- 
ed sir  Christopher  Dash'em. — "  Oh,"  said 
the  justice,  "you  are  sir  Christopher 
Dash'em,  are  you?" — "  It's  what  they 
please  to  style  me,"  observed  sir  Christo- 
pher.— "Oh!  oh!"  remarked  the  magis- 
trate, "  I  have  heard  of  your  character  a 
long  while  ago." — "Then,"  said  sir 
Christopher,  "  I'll  be  greatly  obliged  to 
your  worship  to  tell  me  where  it  is,  for  I 
lost  it  a  long  while  ago." 

•  Hanger's  Life. 


Sir  Solomon  Hiram,  another  Garrett 
candidate,  was  a  shrewd,  clever  carpen- 
ter, of  Battersea,  named  Thomas  Solo- 
mon. It  was  his  constant  saying,  that  he 
"  never  bowed  to  wooden  images,"  by 
which  he  meant  rank  without  talent.  He 
succeeded  in  his  election.  The  motto  on 
his  carriages  was  "  Gin  gratis  !  Porter  for 
nothing !" 

Our  living  chronicler,  "John  Jones," 
says,  that  on  the  day  of  election,  sir  Solo- 
mon Hiram  was  "  dressed  like  an  old 
king,  in  a  scarlet  coat  with  gold  lace,  large 
sleeves  with  very  large  hanging  cuffs ;  a 
wig  such  as  George  the  Second  wore, 
with  large  falling  curls,  and  the  tail  in  a 
silk  bag:  he  held  a  roll  of  parchment  in 
his  hand,  and  looked  for  all  the  world — 
like  a  king." 

Nor  must  "  old  John  Jones"  himself  be 
forgotten,  for  he  rode  as  "  master  of  the 
horse"  at  four  elections  in  a  marvellous 
proper  dress.  He  was  mounted  on  the 
largest  dray  horse  that  could  be  got,  in 
the  full  regimentals  of  the  Surrey  yeoman- 
ry, grey,  blue,  and  red  :  he  had  a  cap  on 
his  head  twenty-three  inches  high ;  and 
bore  in  his  hand  a  sword  seven  feet  long 
and  four  inches  wide,  like  the  sword  of 
the  "ancient  and  honourable  Lumber 
Troop."  His  boots  were  up  to  his  hips, 
and  he  wore  wooden  spurs  thirteen  inches 
long,  with  steel  rowels  three  inches  in 
diameter.  The  mane  of  his  horse  was 
plaited  with  ears  of  corn,  denoting  a 
plentiful  harvest  and  the  coming  cheap- 
ness of  bread ;  and  he  had  two  pages  to 
lead  his  horse. 

The  "  Garrett  cavalry"  or  troop  of 
"  horse  guards,"  of  which  "  John  Jones'* 
was  the  commander,  were  forty  boys  of 
all  ages  and  sizes,  for  whom  flannel  uni- 
forms were  purposely  made,  of  the  exact 
pattern  of  the  Surrey  yeomanry.  They 
wore  enormous  cockades  made  of  shavings, 
and  were  put  a-straddle  on  horses  of  all 
sizes,  and  sorted  thereto,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, by  contraries.  The  smallest  boys 
were  on  the  largest  horses,  and  the  big- 
gest boys  on  the  least.  It  was  their  duty 
to  join  the  candidates'  procession,  and 
with  the  "  master  of  the  horse"  at  their 
head,  proceed  to  the  hustings  in  order 
"  to  preserve  the  freedom  of  election.'* 

At  Richmond  theatre,  about  thirty 
years  ago,  Foote's  "  Mayor  of  Garratt" 
was  performed  for  the  benefit  of  Follett, 
a  celebrated  comedian  and  clown,  and  h* 


B57 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


858 


was  so  happy  as  to  secure  sir  Solomon 
Hiram,  with  every  person  who  figured  at 
Garratt,  to  represent  the  election  as  it 
nad  been  really  held  just  before.  Sir 
Solomon  came  on  the  stage  "just  like  a 
King,"  with  "  old  John  Jones"  on  his  right, 
as  «*  master  of  the  horse,"  and  '*  Robert 
Bates,"  another  great  officer,  on  his  left, 
all  in  their  full  election  uniforms.  The 
house  was  crowded  to  excess.  Sir  Solo- 
mon delivered  all  his  speeches,  "  old  John 
Jones''  commanded  and  manoeuvred  his 
troop  of  horse,  and  every  thing  was  per- 
formed that  had  been  exhibited  at  Wands- 
worth,  or  on  the  hustings,  by  the  real 
characters  in  the  election.  There  was  so 
great  an  audience,  that  the  audience 
crowded  on  the  stage,  and  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  the  scenes  were  shifted. 

SIR  JEFFERY  DUNSTAN. 

In  the  year  1785,  sir  John  Harper,  who 
had  succeeded  to  the  representation  of 
Garrett,  by  the  unbiassed  choice  of  the 
electors,  vacated  his  seat  by  death,  and 
sir  Jeffery  Dunstan  again  became  a  can- 
didate for  their  suffrages. 

This  distinguished  individual  was  a 
child  of  chance — a  foundling.  He  was 
picked  up  in  the  year  1759  at  a  church- 
warden's door  in  St.  Dunstan's  in  the 
East,  and  not  being  owned,  was  reared  in 
the  workhouse  so  as  ultimately  to  attain 
about  two-thirds  the  usual  height  of  man- 
hood, with  knock-knees,  and  a  dispro- 
portionately large  head.  At  twelve  years 
old,  he  was  bound  apprentice  for  nine 
years  to  the  art,  trade,  mystery,  and  occu- 
pation of  a  green  grocer  ;  this  was  a  long 
time  to  serve,  and  Jeffery,  soaring  to  in- 
dependence, adopted  as  a  principle  that 
"  time  was  made  for  slaves,  and  not  for 
freemen ;"  he  therefore  broke  through 
time  and  servitude,  and  ran  away  to 
Birmingham.  It  was  his  pride  that, 
though  the  hard  labour  in  the  factories  of 
the  "  workshop  of  Europe  "  increased  the 
malformation  of  his  person,  it  added 
strength  to  his  mind;  and  in  1776,  he 
returned  to  London  with  his  knees  and 
ideas  knocking  together  much  more  than 
before.  He  soon  afterwards  formed  a 
matrimonial  connection,  and  had  two 
daughters,  whom  he  called  "  Miss  Nancy" 
and  "  Miss  Dinah,"  and  who  testified 
their  filial  politeness  by  uniformly  calling 
him  "  papa." 

From  the  earliest  period  of  sir  Jeffery 's 
•ife,  he  was  a  friend  to  "  good  measures" 


— especially  those  for  "spirituous  liquors;" 
and  he  never  saw  the  inside  of  a  pot 
without  going  to  the  bottom  of  it.  This 
determination  of  character  created  diffi- 
culties to  him :  for  his  freedom  was  not 
always  regulated  by  the  doctrines  of  the 
great  Blackstone  "  on  the  rights  of  per- 
sons,1' and  consequences  ensued  that 
were  occasionally  injurious  to  sir  Jeffery 's 
face  and  eyes.  The  same  enlightened 
judge's  views  of  "  the  rights  of  things  " 
do  not  seem  to  have  been  comprehended 
by  sir  Jeffery :  he  had  long  made  free 
with  the  porter  of  manifold  pots,  and  at 
length  he  made  free  with  a  few  of  the 
pots.  For  this  he  was  "  questioned,"  in 
the  high  commission  court  of  oyer  and 
terminer,  and  suffered  an  imprisonment, 
which,  according  to  his  manner  of  life, 
and  his  notions  of  the  liberty  of  the  sub- 
ject, was  frivolous  and  vexatious.  On 
his  liberation,  he  returned  to  an  occupa- 
tion he  had  long  followed,  the  dealing  in 
"  old  wigs,"  and  some  circumstances 
developed  in  the  course  of  the  preceding 
inquiry  seem  to  favour  a  supposition,  that 
the  bag  he  carried  had  enabled  him  to 
conceal  his  previous  "  free  trade"  in  pots. 
But,  be  that  as  it  might,  it  is  certain  that 
to  his  armorial  bearings  of  four  wigs,  he 
added  a  quart  pot  for  a  crest. 

From  the  period  that  he  obtained  a 
"  gloiious  minority"  by  his  opposition  to 
sir  John  Harper  for  Garrett,  he  looked 
for  the  first  opening  in  the  representation 
of  that  borough  with  a  view  to  fill  it  him- 
self. On  the  death  of  sir  John,  he  issued 
an  address  to  the  electors,  committees 
were  formed,  and  an  active  canvass  was 
commenced  at  every  public-house  to 
which  the  constituent  body  resorted  for 
refreshment  arid  solace.  On  the  day  of 
election,  sir  Jeffery  left  London  in  a 
splendid  phaeton,  with  a  body  of  friends 
in  every  possible  description  of  vehicle, 
from  a  coal-waggon  to  a  wheel-barrow 
drawn  by  dogs  ;  the  procession  extended 
a  mile  in  length,  and  sir  Jeffery  Dunstan 
was  elected  by  an  immense  majority. 
At  successive  elections  he  was  success- 
ively successful,  and  maintained  his  seat 
for  Garrett  until  his  death. 

One  of  the  answers  to  the  editor's  re- 
quest for  particulars  concerning  the  Gar- 
rett election,  is  the  following  letter  : — 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — After  frequently  promising  to  do 
something  for  the  Every-Day  JJook,  , 


8.r)9 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


8CO 


yesterday  threw  hastily  together  a  few 
particulars  regarding  "  sir  Jeffery  Dun- 
stan  :"  they  are  authentic  and  at  your 
service.  Sir  Jeffery,  towards  the  latter 
part  of  his  life,  had  a  hoarse  rough  voice 
and  bad  utterance,  from  having  lost  the 
whole  of  his  front  teeth.  The  manner  of 
his  losing  them  is  curious  enough,  and 
worth  relating.  He  was  one  evening  re- 
citing his  speeches  at  the  "  London  Hos- 
pital" public-house,  Whitechapel,  where 
some  young  students  were  amusing  them- 
selves, who,  seeing  "  sir  Jeffery"  in  "  merry 
mood,"  hit  upon  a  plan  to  have  the  teeth 
out  of  his  head.  A  bargain  was  soon 
struck,  ten  shillings  were  clubbed  among 
them,  a  pint  of  "  Hodges's  best'*  was 
brought  in — sir  Jeffery  sat  down  in  the 
chair,  and  out  came  tooth  the  first — in 
the  same  manner  out  came  another — and 
so,  time  after  time,  the  wicked  wags  pro- 
ceeded till  they  got  them  all. 

At  this  house  sir  Jeffery  was  near 
losing  his  life,  in  addition  to  his  teeth. 
He  was  "  in  the  chair,"  as  usual,  which 
was  placed  on  the  table,  and  he  was 
supported  by  his  friends  "  Ray  the  tin- 
ker," who  now  lies  in  the  same  grave  with 
him,  and  a  "  sir  Charles  Hartis,"  a  de- 
formed fidler,  and  an  unsuccessful  candi- 
date for  Garratt  honours.  Such  a  trio 
was  scarcely  ever  seen,  and  very  attrac- 
tive. The  sixpences  collected  from  visi- 
ters,  on  entering,  lay  in  a  plate  on  the 
table,  and  "  sir  Jeffery''  was  on  his  legs 
giving  them  "  old  wigs,"  in  his  best 
style,  when,  being  top-heavy  with  liquor, 
he  suddenly  lost  his  balance,  and  over  he 
went.  "  Ray  the  tinker"  was  upset,  and 
the  fiddle  of  "  sir  Charles"  knocked  into 
the  fire ;  in  a  moment  the  candles  were 
put  out,  and  all  was  darkness  and  confu- 
sion; when  a  light  was  brought,  sir  Jeffery 
and  the  money  were  both  missing,  and 
he  was  considered  the  purloiner  :  but  the 
fact  was,  some  knaves  who  had  an  eye  to 
the  cash,  took  advantage  of  sir  Jeffery 's 
fall,  blew  out  the  lights,  stole  the  money, 
and  picking  up  "  sir  Jeff"  at  the  same 
moment,  dragged  him  out  of  the  house  to 
fix  the  fraud  on  him.  The  poor  fellow 
was  found  the  next  morning  by  some 
workmen  almost  frozen  to  death  and  pen- 
nyless,  in  a  miserable  hole,  into  which 
they  had  dropped  him  ! 

Sir  Jeffery  wore  his  shirt  open,  and  the 
collar  turned  down.  This  was  in  him  a 
sort  of  pride ;  for  he  would  frequently  in 
an  exulting  manner  say  to  inferiors, 
"  I've  got  a  collar  to  my  shirt,  sir."  In 


life  his  face  was  dark  and  dirty,  but  when 
coffined,  says  Mr.  Thomas  Michael,  his 
skin  was  remarkably  fair  and  clear. 

Sir  Jeffery  once  kept  an  ass  that  had 
but  one  ear,  the  other  being  close  crop- 
ped off;  with  this  poor  creature,  who 
carried  the  "wigs,  &c."  he  for  many 
years  collected  a  crowd  but  a  few  paces 
from  the  writer's  habitation.  His  wit  and 
smart  sayings  flew  about.  Now  the  joke 
fell  on  himself,  and  now  on  his  one-eared 
ass.  Then  he  varied  the  cry  of  "  old 
wigs/'  by  mimicking  another's  singing-cry 
of, "  lilly,  lilly,  lilly,  lilly  white— sand  oh!" 
After  the  pence  had  well  tumbled  in,  he 
would  retire  to  his  favourite  retreat,  the 
"  Horse  and  Leaping  Bar,"  to  dine  on 
"  duck  and  green  peas,"  or  "  roast  goose 
and  apple  sauce,"  &c.  •  , 

At  this  house,  which  is  on  the  south 
side  of  the  high  street,  "  sir  Jeff,"  in  a 
"  regular"  manner,  got  "  regularly  drunk." 
Here  he  sung  the  "  London  cries ;"  re- 
cited his  mock  speeches  on  the  corruptions 
of  parliament ;  and,  placed  in  an  armchair 
on  the  table,  nightly  afforded  sport  to  a 
merry  company. 

No  sooner  had  sir  Jeffery  ceased  to 
breathe,  than  the  resurrection  men  were  on 
the  alert  to  obtain  his  body.  They  had 
nearly  succeeded  prior  to  interment,  by 
drawing  him  through  the  window  of  the 
room  in  which  he  lay. 

The  surgeons  of  the  day  were  eager  \o 
obtain  a  prize,  but  their  hopes  were  dis- 
appointed by  the  late  John  Liptrap,  esq. 
who  had  the  body  removed  to  a  place  of 
safety.  This  gentleman  paid  all  the  ex- 
pences  of  sir  Jeffery's  funeral;  a  giave 
ten  feet  deep  was  dug  close  to  the  north 
wall  of  the  watchhouse  of  St.  Mary, 
Whitechapel,  where  he  now  lies.  The 
head  of  the  coffin  somewhat  undermines 
the  church-rail,  and  the  public  footway. 
His  wife  lies  at  his  feet,  and  his  daughter 
Dinah,  sleeps  the  "  sleep  of  death"  at  his 
side. 

"Miss  Nancy," — sir  Jeffery  used  to  say, 
"  Miss  Nancy,  make  the  gentlemen  a 
curtsey," — "  Miss  Nancy"  survived  them 
all;  she  married  a  costermonger,  or  to 
speak  a  little  more  politely,  a  knight  of  the 
"  whip  and  hamper,"  who  is  said  to  have 
added  to  his  avocations  that  of  snatching 
bodies  for  the  surgeons,  till  death,  the 
final  snatcher,  snatched  him.  Miss  Nancy 
still  survives. 

Respecting  sir  Jeffery  Dunstan's  death, 
his  grave  digger,  Thomas  Michael,  relates 
this  story.  Sir  Jeffery  had  called  in  at 


861 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  2<> 


862 


the  sign  of  the  Red  Lion,  opposite 
the  London  Hospital,  a  house  where  low 
company  resorted.  It  was  then  kept  by 
one  George  Float  (who  afterwards  met  a 
premature  death  himself)  who  supplied  sir 
Jeffery  with  liquor  at  the  expense  of 
others,  till  he  was  completely  "  non  com- 
pos." He  was  then  carried  to  the  door  of 
his  house  on  the  north  side  of  the  <k  Duck- 
ing pond/'  and  there  left  to  perish,  for  he 
was  found  a  corpse  on  the  same  spot  the 
next  morning. 

It  was  strongly  suspected  that  sir  Jef- 
fery's  death  was  purposely  caused  by  re- 
surrection men,  for  the  liquor  he  was 
made  to  swallow  was  drugged.  One  of 
this  fraternity  endeavoured  to  stop  the 
burial  of  the  body,  by  pretending  a  rela- 
tion from  Ireland  was  on  his  way  to 
claim  it.  The  fellow  disguised  himself, 
and  endeavoured  to  personate  a  native  of 
that  country,  but  the  fraud  was  detected. 

I  am,  &c. 
June  19,  1823.  T.  W.  L. 


This  obliging  correspondent,  who 
knew  so  much  respecting  sir  Jeffery  Dun- 
stan,  was  likely  to  furnish  more;  particular 
inquiries  were  therefore  addressed  to  him 
by  letter,  and  he  has  since  obligingly  com- 
municated as  follows: — 

FOR  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. 

Sir  Jeffery  Dunstan's  descendants. — Sir 
Jeffery  s  Hut. —  Whitechapel  Obelisk. 
—  Dipping  for  old  wigs. 

To  oblige  Mr.  Hone  I  set  out  in  pur- 
suit of  "  Miss  Nancy,"  who  is  now  called 
"  lady  Ann,"  thinking  she  might  be  able 
to  furnish  me  with  particulars  regarding 
her  father,  "  sir  Jeffery,"  and  the  "  Gar- 
rett  election."  Near  the  sign  of  the 
"  Grave  Maurice,"  in  the  "  road  side" 
of  Whitechapel,  I  addressed  myself  to  a 
clean,  elderly  looking  woman,  whose  brow 
bespoke  the  cares  of  three  score  years  at 
least,  and  asked  her  if  she  could  inform 
me  whether  sir  Jeffery's  daughter,  "  Miss 
Nancy"  was  living  or  not  ?  "  Lord  bless 
you,  sir  '."  said  she,  "  living  !  aye  ;  I  saw 
her  pass  with  her  cats-meat  barrow  not 
five  minutes  ago ;  and  just  now  I  saw 
running  by,  a  little  girl,  the  fourth  gene- 
ration from  sir  Jeffery."  I  soon  ascer- 
tained that  "  lady  Ann"  lived  with  her 
son  and  his  wife,  at  No.  7,  North-street, 
opposite  the  Jews'  burying  ground,  where 
I  knocked  boldly,  and,  to  my  surprise,  was 


answered  by  a  fine  dark  little  girl  of 
eleven,  that  her  grandmother  could  not  be 
seen,  because  she  was  "  very  drunk." 

At  seven  in  the  evening, by  appointment 
I  called,  and  saw  the  same  little  girl  again^ 
and  was  told  her  father  was  "drunk  also," 
and  that  her  mother  had  instructed  her  to 
say,  that  many  similar  applications  had 
been  made,  and  "  a  deal  of  money  offer- 
ed," for  the  information  I  sought ;  which 
spoke  in  plain  terms  they  had  nothing  to 
communicate,  or  if  they  had,  a  good  price 
must  be  paid  for  it. 

Recollecting  that  I  had  been  informed 
that  a  good  likeness  of  "  sir  Jeffery"  was 
to  be  seen  at  the  "  Blind  Beggar,"  near 
the  turnpike,  and  supposing  it  not  un- 
likely, from  that   circumstance,  that   the 
landlord  of  that  house  might  know  more 
of  the  man  than  I  did  myself,  I  resorted 
thither.     The  bar  was  crowded  with  ap- 
plicants for  "  full  proof,"  and  "  the  best 
cordials."   I  took  my  station  at  the  lower 
end,  and  calling  for  a  glass  of  ale,  it  was 
served  me  by  Mr.  Porter  himself,  when  I 
took  the  opportunity  of  asking  him  if  he 
had  not  a  portrait  of  sir  Jeffery  Dunstan 
in  his  parlour;  he  said  there  had  been 
one  there  till  lately,  but  that  during  the 
alterations  it  was  removed.     On  my  right 
hand  was  a  man  with  a  pint  of  ale"  and  a 
glass  in  his  hand,  and  a  woman  with  him, 
seated  on  the  top  of  a  barrel.     At  this 
juncture  the  man  called  out  to  the  land- 
lord, "  is  it  not  somebody  that  «  /  knows? 
that  you  are  talking  about?"     An  answer 
was  given  in  the  affirmative.    I  looked  at 
the   man,   and   perceiving  that   he   was 
about   my   own  age,   observed  that   his 
years,  like  mine,  did  not  warrant  much 
personal  knowledge  of  the  person  of  whom 
we  had  been  speaking.     "  Why,"   said 
Mr.  Porter,  smiling,  "  that  is  his  grand- 
son ;  that  is  sir  Jeffery's  grandson."     I, 
too,  could  not   help    smiling    on  calling 
to    mind  that  this  was  the  very  man  that 
was  "  also   drunk,"   and    that   this,    his 
money-loving  wife,  who  had  denied  me  an 
interview,    I    was    addressing.      I   told 
them  the  nature  of  my  visit  to  their  house. 
She  said  her  daughter  had  informed  her 
of  every  thing.     I  then,  to  use  a  nautical 
phrase,  "  boxed  all  points  of  the  com- 
pass,"  without   effect.      They   evidently 
knew  nothing,  or  did  not  care  to  know ; 
the  wife,  however,  told  me  that  her  sister, 
who  was  either  dead,  or  "  abroad,"  knew 
"  all  sir  Jeffery's  speeches  from  the  be- 
ginning to  end;"  and  the   husband    re- 
counted   'squire  Liptrap's    kindness    in 


863 


THE    EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22. 


864 


many  times  escorting  and  protecting,  by  a 
file  of  soldiers,  his  grandfather  to  his 
home;  and  said,  moreover,  that  he  him- 
self was  blamed  for  not  claiming  the  goold 
(gold)  picked  up  with  the  foundling  which 
is  now  accumulating  in  the  funds  of  St. 
Dunstan's  parish. 

I  urged,  "  that  none  of  us  had  any 
thing  to  boast  of  in  point  of  ancestry,  and 
that  were  I  sir  Jeffery's  grandson,  my  great 
grandfather 'sgreat  natural  talent  and  ready 
flow  of  wit  would  induce  me  to  acknow- 
ledge him  as  my  great  ancestor  under 
any  circumstances."  This  produced 
nothing  more  than  that  his  grandfather, 
"  though  he  could  neither  read  nor  write, 
could  speak  many  languages."  I  left 
them — the  husband,  as  we  say,  "  top 
heavy,"  the  wife  expostulating  to  get  him 
home,  and  at  the  same  time  observing 
they  must  be  up  by  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  "  to  be  off'  with  the  cart." 

On  my  road  homewards,  I  turned  up 
Court-street  to  "Ducking-pond  side,"  to 
take  a  view  of  "  sir  Jeffery's  hut ;"  it  is 
adjoining  his  late  patron's  distillery,  who 
permitted  him  to  live  there  rent  free.  The 
door  is  bricked  up,  and  it  now  forms  part 
of  a  chandler's  shop.  The  thick  black 
volumes  of  smoke  from  the  immense 
chimnies  were  rolling  above  my  head  to 
the  west,  while  beneath,  in  the  same 
direction,  came  the  pestiferous  stench 
from  those  deadly  slaughtering  places  for 
horses,  that  lie  huddled  together,  on  the 
right.  It  brought  to  my  mind  Mr.  Mar- 
tin's story  in  the  "  House,"  of  the  poor 
starving  condemned  "  animals"  and  the 
"  truss  of  h?y."  I  turned  hastily  away  from 
the  scene,  and  I  conjure  thee,  reader,  go 
not  near  it,  for  it  breathes 

"  Pestilence,  rottenness,  and  death." 

In  my  preceding  notice  of  "  sir  Jeffery 
and  his  ass,"  perhaps  I  have  not  been 
sufficiently  explicit.  In  the  "  season," 
he  would  sometimes  carry  the  best  of 
fruit  in  his  hampers  for  sale,  as  well  as  his 
"  bag  of  wigs. '  The  allusion  to  the 
"  duck  and  green  peas,"  &c.  was  a  sort  of 
joke,  which  sir  Jeffery  used  constantly,  in 
his  witty  way,  to  put  off  to  "  standers-by  " 
when  "  lady  Ann,"  or  "  Miss  Dinah," 
came  from  their  "  lady  mother  "  to  inform 
him  that  his  dinner  was  ready. 

An  elderly  friend  of  mine  perfectly 
well  recollects  sir  Jeffery's  "  one-eared 
ass,"  his  hamper  of  russetings,  and  sir 
Jeffery  himself,  with  his  back  placed 
against  the  side  of  the  stone  obelisk  which 
then  stood  at  the  corner  of  the  road, 


opposite  Whitechapel  church  rails.  There 
he  kept  the  boys  and  girls  at  bay  with  the 
ready  use  of  his  hands ;  while  his  ready 
tongue  kept  the  elder  folks  constantly 
laughing.  But  wheie  is  the  stone  obelisk 
Gone — like  sir  Jeffery.  The  spirit  of 
destruction,  miscalled  improvement,  wan- 
tonly threw  it  down.  It  fell  in  the  pride 
of  its  age  and  glory,  before  Time's  effacing 
hand  had  marked  it.  Away  with  destroy- 
ers, I  say !  They  may  have  bettered  the 
condition  of  the  pathway  by  substituting 
an  iron  railway  for  one  of  wood,  but  have 
they  done  so  by  removing  that  excellent 
unoffending  barrier,  the  "  pillar  of  stone," 
and  placing  in  its  stead  a  paltry  old  can- 
non choaked  with  a  ball? 

I  recollect  in  my  boyish  days  I  never 
ssed  that  "  obelisk"  without  looking 


passed 


up,  and  reading  on  its  sculptured  sides, 
"  twelve  miles  to  Romford,"  "  seventeen 
to  Epping."  Then  it  told  the  traveller 
westward,  the  exact  distance  to  the  Royal 
Exchange  and  Hyde  Park-corner.  All 
beyond  it,  in  an  easterly  direction,  to  my 
youthful  fancy,  was  fairy  land  ;  it  spoke 
of  pure  air,  green  fields,  and  trees ;  of 
gentle  shepherdesses,  and  arcadian  swains. 
Delightful  feelings,  which  only  those  who 
are  born  and  bred  in  towns  can  fully 
enter  into !  It  had  originally  a  tongue  of 
another  description,  for  it  seemed  to  say, 
in  legible  characters,  "  this  is  the  east- 
end  corner  of  the  metropolis," — at  least  it 
marked  it  as  strongly  as  ever  Hyde  Park- 
corner  did  the  west.  Pardon  the  digres- 
sion, reader,  and  I  will  conclude. 

When  sir  Jeffery  raised  the  cry  of  "  old 
wigs,"  the  collecting  of  which  formed  his 
chief  occupation,  he  had  a  peculiarly 
droll  way  of  clapping  his  hand  to  his 
mouth,  and  he  called  "  old  wigs,  wigs, 
wigs!"  in  every  doorway.  Some  he  dis- 
posed of  privately,  the  rest  he  sold  to  the 
dealers  in  "  Rag-fair."  In  those  days, 
"  full  bottoms"  were  worn  by  almost 
every  person,  and  it  was  no  uncommon 
thing  to  hear  sea-faring  persons,  or  others 
exposed  to  the  cold,  exclaim,  "  Well, 
winter's  at  hand,  and  I  must  e'en  go  to 
Rosemary-lane,  and  have  '  a  dip  for  a 
wig.' "  This  "  dipping  for  wigs  "  was 
nothing  more  than  putting  your  hand  into 
a  large  banel  and  pulling  one  up;  if  you 
liked  it  you  paid  your  shilling,  if  not,  you 
dipped  again,  and  paid  sixpence  more, 
and  so  on.  Then,  also,  the  curriers  used 
them  for  cleaning  the  waste,  &c.  off  the 
leather,  and  I  have  no  doubt  would  use 
them  now  if  they  could  get  them. 


8G5 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  22 


806 


Sir  Jeffery's  ideas  of  "  quality  "  ran 
very  high  at  all  times,  and  were  never 
higher  than  when  his  daughter  Nancy, 
"  beautiful  Miss  Nancy,'7  was  married 
to  "  lord  Thompson/'  a  dustman. — 
"  Twenty  coaches,"  said  sir.  Jeffery,  "to 
lady  Ann's  wedding,  madam,  and  all  fill- 
ed with  the  first  nobility."  A  dustman  on 
his  wedding-day,  in  our  days,  is  content 
with  a  seat  in  a  far  different  vehicle,  and 
being  carried  on  his  brethren's  shoulders 
to  collect  a  little  of  the  •'  needful "  to  get 
drunk  with  at  night.  To  the  honour  of 
"  lord  Thompson  "  be  it  said,  after  such 
a  noble  alliance,  he  soon  "  cut "  the  fra- 
ternity, and,  as  I  have  before  observed, 
became  a  knight  of  the  "  whip  and  ham- 
per," vulgo  "  a  costermonger. 

June  23,  1826.  T.  W.JL, 

The  last  representative  of  Garrett  was 
sir  Jeffery  Dunstan's  successor,  the  re- 
nowned sir  Harry  Dimsdale.  From  the 
death  of  sir  Harry  the  seat  remained 
vacant. 

It  must  be  added,  however,- that  for  this 
borough  sir  George  Cook  demanded  to 
sit.  No  committee  determined  on  the 
claims  of  the  "  rival  candidates;"  but 
the  friends  of  sir  George,  an  eminent 
dealer  in  apples  and  small  vegetables 
near  Stangate,  maintained  that  he  was 
the  rightful  member  in  spite  of  sir  Harry 
Dimsdale's  majority,  which  'was  alleged 
to  have  been  obtained  by  "bribery  and 
corruption." 

Whatever  distaste  refinement  may  con- 
ceive to  such  scenes,  it  must  not  be  for- 
gotten that  they  constitute  a  remarkable 
feature  in  the  manners  of  the 'times.  It 
is  the  object  of  this  work  to  record 
"  manners,"  and  the  editor  cannot  help 
expressing  somewhat  of  the  disappoint- 
ment he  feels,  on  his  entreaties  for  infor- 
mation, respecting  the  -elections  'for  Gar- 
rett, having  failed  to  elicit  much  informa- 
tion, which  it  is  still  in  the  power  of 
many  persons  to  communicate.  He  has 
original  facts,  of  a  very  interesting  nature, 
ready  to  lay  before  the  public  on  this  topic; 
but  he  omits  to  do  it,  in  order  to  afford  a 
few  days  longer  to  those  -who  have  'the 
means  of  enabling  him  to  add  to  his  re- 
served collection.  To  that  end  'he  once 
vnore  solicits  the  loan  of  hand-bills,  ad- 
vertisements, addresses,  scraps,  or  any 
thing  any  way  connected  with  the  subject. 
He  begs,  and  hopes,  to  be  favoured  with 

VOL.  II.— No.  80. 


such  matters  with  all  possible  speed.  It 
is  his  wish  to  dispose  of  this  election  in 
the  following  sheet,  and  therefore  "  not  a 
moment  is  to  be  lost." 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  85 


Suite  23 

ST.  JOHN'S  EVE. 

An  ancient  custom  is  still  maintained 
by  the  inhabitants  of  Ripon,  in  Yorkshire. 
On  midsummer-eve,  every  housekeeper, 
who,  in  the  course  of  the  year,  has 
changed  his  residence  .into  a  new  neigh- 
bourhood, spreads  a  table  before  his  door 
in  the  street,  with  bread,  cheese,  and  ale, 
for  those  who  choose  to  resort  to  it.  The 
guests,  after  staying  awhile,  if  the  master 
is  of  ability,  are  invited  to  supper,  and 
the  evening  is  concluded  with  mirth  and 
good  humour.  The  origin  of  (this  usage 
is  unknown,  but  it  probably  was  instituted 
•for  the  purpose  of  introducing  new  corner 
to  an  early  acquaintance  with  their  neigh- 
bours ;  or,  with  the  more  laudable  design 
of  settling  differences,  by  the  meeting  and 
mediation  of.  friends. 

The  late  rev.  Donald  M'Queen,  df 
Kilmuir,  in  the  Isle  of  Sky,  in  certain 
reflections  on  ancient  customs  preserved 
in  that  island,  mentions  what  he  observed 
at  this  season  in  Ireland,  where  he 
conceives  the  catholic  religion  to  have 
accommodated  itself  to  the  ancient  supei 
stitionsof  the  natives,  and  grafted  Christ- 
ianity on  pagan  rites.  He  remarks,  that 
"  the  Irish  have  ever  been  worshippers  of 
'fire  and  of  Baal,  and  are  so  to  this  day. 
The  chief  "festival  in  honour  of  the  sun 
and  fire  is  upon  the  21st  of  June  (23d?) 
when  the  sun  arrives  at  the  summer 
solstice,  or  rather  begins  its  retrograde 
motion." 

Mr.  M'Queen  says,  "  I  was  so  fortu- 
nate in  the  summer  of  1782  as  to  have  my 
curiosity  gratified.  At  the  house  where  I 
was  entertained,  it  was  told  me  that  we 
should  see  at  midnight  the  most  singular 
sight  in  Ireland,  which  was  the  lighting 
,pf  fires  in  honour  of  the  sun.  Accord- 
ingly, exactly  at  midnight,  the  fires  began 
to  appear ;  and  going  up  to  the  leads  of 
the  house,  which  had  a  widely  extended 
view,  I  saw,  on  a  radius  of  thirty  miles, 
all  around,  the  fires  burning  on  ev«py 


867  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK — JUNE  23.  868 

eminence  which  the  country  afforded.     I  whole  was  concluded  with  religious  so- 
had   a   farther    satisfaction    in   learning,  lemnity."* 

from  undoubted  authority,  that  the  peo-  

pie  danced  round  the  fires,  and  at  the  close  The  eve  of  the  summer  solstice  was  a 

went  through  these  fires,  and  made  their  season  of  divinations  in  early  times,  and 

sons  and  daughters,  together  with  their  with  one  of  these,  described  by  a  living 

cattle,   pass    through   the   fire,    and   the  bard,  the  day  may  conclude. 

St.  John's  Eve. 

St.  John  the  Baptist's  eve,  how  clear  and  bright 
Sinks  the  broad  sun  upon  the  waveless  sea  1 
Above,  below,  around  him,  shedding  light, 
Al1  glorious  and  beautiful  to  see  : 
Garish  as  day,  with  night's  tranquillity- 
Reposing  on  all  things. — "  Then  bid  farewell 
To  household  duties  and  its  drudgery — 
Come,  one  and  all,  and  this  fair  maid  shall  tell 
Who  shall  be  wise  henceforth,  from  this  our  festival." 

At  this  fair  summons  men  and  women  were 
Wont  to  assemble  to  decide  their  fate  : 
The  first  begotten  child  with  rose-deck'd  hair 
Clad  as  a  bride — her  features  all  sedate, 
Like  one  of  holy  calling — walk'd  in  state, 
Before  a  bacchanal  procession,  loud 
In  their  mirth — dancing  with  glee  elate — 
And  shouting  as  they  went — a  motley  crowd 
Spreading  along  the  shore,  like  shadow  from  a  cloud. 

And  when  arrived  where  they  were  summoned,  they 
With  water  from  the  ocean,  to  the  brim 
Fill  a  small  vessel  as  the  first  essay 
Towards  making  into  one  the  future — (dinof 
And  dark  as  'tis) — perceptible — to  him 
Alone  this  boon. — When  a  young  virgin,  fair, 
With  knocking  heart  that  maketh  her  head  swim 
Lest  she,  her  hopes,  have  wither'd — from  her  hair 
Taketh  a  rose  (her  emblem)  she  had  braided  there ; 

And  in  the  vessel  drops  it :  Then  the  next, 
Lovely  as  Hebe,  from  her  faery  zone, 
Loosens  the  band  that  clasps  it — somewhat  vext 
That  like  the  rose  it  floats  not — as  'tis  known, 
Or  so  imagined,  that  the  charm  hath  flown 
From  what's  beneath  the  surface — so  she  deem'd 
E'en  when  the  next  a  diamond  had  thrown 
Into  the  vessel,  which,  though  sunken,  seemed 
A  star  upon  the  surface — it  so  upward  gleamed. 

After  the  fair  ones,  one  and  all,  have  cast 
The  bauble  that  each  prized  as  somewhat  dear, 
The  youths  o'eranxious  lest  they  be  surpass'd 
By  maidens  in  their  zealous  acts  sincere, 
(Who  crowd  about  them  as  they  hover  near 
The  sacred  vase,  observing  them  the  while ;) 
Drop  gold,  and  gems,  and  crystals  for  the  ear, 
Adorn'd  with  quaint  devices,'to  beguile 
With  love,  the  heart  that's  languishing,  and  free  fiom  guile. 


*  Cited  by  Brand. 


IHJ9 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  24. 


870 


Now  all  are  gathered  round  in  silence  deep, 
Heart  throbbing  maids,  (like  knots  of  flowers  fair, 
That  bow  unto  the  moon,  whose  soft  rays  sleep 
Upon  their  beauty,)  and  youths  flush'd  with  care 
And  keen  anxiety,  press  forward  there : 
Meanwhile,  the  little  cherub-bride  draws  nigh, 
And  from  the  vessel  with  her  small  hand  fair, 
Brings  forth  the  gem  that  gladdens  some  one's  eye, 
That  grants  to  him  or  her  the  gift  of  prophecy. 

Barton  Wilford. 

"  Also  that  (the  feoffees) 'their  heirs  or 
assignes  shall  lykewise  yerelie,  for  ever, 
after  the  deceasse  of  the  said  Thomas 
Oken,distribute,or  cause  to  be  distributed, 
and  paide,  out  of  the  yerelie  revenewes 
of  the  forsaid  lands  and  teneme'tes,  to 
and  amongest  the  neyhgboures  of  the  bon- 
fire of  the  said  T.  O,,  w'thin  the  High 
payv'ment  Warde  in  the  said  tovvne  of 
Warwick,  towe  shillinges  of  lawfull 
englysshe  money,  and  thre  shillings  more 
of  lawfull  englysshe  money,  to  be  paid  by 
equall  porcions,  to  and  amongest  the 
neyhboures  of  the  other  thre  bonfyres, 
beinge  w'thin  the  said  ward  of  the  high 
pay'ment,  to  make  merry  w'1  all,  at  there 
said  bonfyres,  yffany  be  in  the<vigilles  or 
dates  of  seynt  John  Baptist  and  seynt 
Peter;  and  yff  they  have  noe  bonfires, 
.that  then  the  same  to  be  ymployed  to 
some  other  good  use  or  uses,  as  to  them 
shal  be  thought  metes t  and  convenient.' 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  62. 


24. 


ST.  JOHN'S  DAY. 
Midsummer  Day. 

There  are  several  interesting  notices  of 
usages  on  this  day  and  midsummer-eve, 
in  vol.  i.  from  col.  825  to  855.  To  the 
account  of  the  "  old  London  watch"  there 
.cited,  from  "  Stow's  Survey/'  should  be 
added  from  Mr.  Donee's  notes,  quoted  by 
Mr.  Brand,  that  the  watch  "was  laid 
down  in  the  twentieth  year  of  Henry 
VIII  ;"  arid  that  "  the  chronicles  of  Stow 
and  Byddel  assign  the  sweating  sickness 
as  a  cause  for  discontinuing  the  watch." 
Mr.  Douce  adds,  that  "  Niccols  says  the 
watches  on  midsummer  and  St.  Peter's- 
eve  were  laid  down  by  licence  from  the 
king,  <  for  that  the  cittie  had  then  bin 
charged  with,  the  leavie  of  a  muster  of 
15,000  men.'  " 


WARWICK  BONFIRES. 

A  large  paper  copy  of  Brand's  "  Popu- 
lar Antiquities,"  with  MS.  notes  upon  it 
by  a  gentleman  of  great  reputation  as  an 
antiquary,  and  who  has  publicly  distin- 
guished himself  by  erudite  dissertations 
on  certain  usages  of  ancient  times,  was 
some  time  ago  most  obligingly  forwarded 
by  that  gentleman  to  the  editor  of  the 
JKvery-Day  Book,  with  permission  to  use 
the  valuable  manuscript  additions.  .Hi- 
therto it  happened,  from  peculiar  circum- 
stances, that  the  advantage  has  not  been 
available,  but  this  and  future  sheets  will 
be  enriched  from  that  source.  The  gen- 
tleman referred  to  cites  from — "  an  In- 
denture of  covenant  between  Thomas  Oken 
of  Warwick  and  his  twelve  feoffees, 
dated  the  20th  of  January,  13  Elizabeth," 
(1571,)  the  following  clause: — 


The  same  gentleman  quotes  and  refers 
to  the  following  illustration  of  the  day:— 

"  It  was  the  24  June,  (at  Lb'dingen  in 
Norway  on  the  confines  of  Lapland)  the 
festival  of  St.  John  the  Baptist;  and  the 
people  flocked  from  all  quarters  to  sport 
the  whole  Anight  round  a  blazing  fire, 
kindled  on  the  top  of  an  adjacent  hill :  a 
practice  common  about  the  time  of  the 
solstice,  to  the -whole  of  the  Gothic  tribes, 
being  a  vestige  of  that  most  ancient  wor- 
ship of  the  resplendant  image  of  the 
divinity,  the  glorious  luminary  of  day." 
— Edinburgh  Review,  October,  1813, 
Art.  Von  Buck's  Travels  in  Norway  and 
Lapland. 

THE  COW-MASS 

At  Dunkirk. 

The  emperor  Charles  V.  found  it  expe- 
dient to  exhibit  to  the  turbulent  inhab- 
itants of  Dunk iik,  a  show  called  the  Cow- 
mass,  on  St.  John's-day.  Whether  it  has 
been  resumed  is  uncertain,  but  in  1789.it 


I 


871 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  24. 


872 


was  described  to  have  been  represented  at 
that  time  in  the  following  manner : — 

The  morning  is  ushered  in  by  the  merry 
peals  of  the  corillons,  or  bell-playing.  The 
streets  are  very  early  lined  with  soldiers ; 
and,  by  eight  o'clock,  every  house-top  and 
window  is  filled  with  spectators,  at  least 
forty  thousand  exclusive  of  inhabitants. 

About  ten  o'clock,  after  high  mass  at 
the  great  church,  the  show  begins,  by  the 
the  townsmen  being  classed  according  to 
the  different  trades,  walking  two  and  two, 
each  holding  a  burning  wax  candle,  and 
at  least  a  yard  long,  and  each  dressed  not 
in  their  best  apparel,  but  in  the  oldest  and 
oddest  fashion  of  their  ancestors. 

After  the  several  companies  is  a  pageant 
containing  an  emblematical  represent- 
ation of  its  trade,  and  this  pageant  is  fol- 
lowed by  patron  saints,  most  of  which  are 
of  solid  silver  adorned  with  jewels.  Bands 
of  music,  vocal  and  instrumental,  attend 
the  companies,  the  chorusses  of  which  are 
very  solemn. 

Then  followed  the  friars  and  regular 
clergy,  two  and  two,  in  the  habits  of  their 
different  orders,  slow  in  their  motion,  and 
with  the  appearance  of  solemn  piety. 

Then  came  the  abbot  in  a  most  magnifi- 
cent dress,  richly  adorned  with  silver  and 
gold,  his  train  supported  by  two  men  in 
the  dress  of  cardinals.  The  host  was  borne 
before  him  by  an  old  white-bearded  man 
of  a  most  venerable  aspect,  surrounded 
by  a  great  number  of  boys  in  white  sur- 
plices, who  strewed  frankincense  and 
myrrh  under  his  feet ;  and  four  men  sup- 
ported a  large  canopy  of  wrought  silver 
over  his  head,  while  four  others  sustained 
a  large  silver  lantern,  with  a  light  in  it 
at  the  end  of  a  pole. 

They  then  proceeded  to  the  bottom  of 
the  street,  where  there  was  elevated  a 
grand  altar,  ascended  by  a  flight  of  steps  ; 
there  the  procession  stopped,  while  the 
abbot  came  from  under  his  canopy  and 
took  the  host  from  the  old  man  :  ascend- 
ing the  altar,  he  held  up  the  host  in  his 
elevated  hands,  and  the  vast  multitude  in- 
stantly fell  on  their  knees,  from  the  house- 
tops down  to  the  dirt  in  the  streets  below. 

After  this  solemnity,  gaiety  in  the  face 
of  every  one  appeared,  and  the  procession 
recommenced. 

Other  pageants  came  forth,  from  the 
great  church,  followed  by  a  vast  moving 
machine,  consisting  of  several  circular 
stages  to  represent  Heaven ;  on  the  bot- 
tom stages  appeared  many  friars  and  nuns, 
each  holding  white  lilies  in  their  hands, 


and  on  the  uppermost  stage  but  one 
were  two  figures,  representing  Adam  and 
Eve,  and  several  winged  angels,  in  white 
flowing  garments.  On  the  uppermost 
stage  was  one  figure  only,  to  represent 
God,  on  whom  all  the  eyes  of  the  lower 
figures  were  directed,  with  looks  of  ado- 
ration and  humility;  this  machine  was 
drawn  by  horses. 

Next  followed  an  enormous  figure  to 
represent  Hell.  It  was  something  like  an 
elephant,  with  a  large  head  and  eyes, 
and  a  pair  of  horns,  on  which  severa, 
little  devils,  or  rather  boys  dressed  like 
devils,  were  sitting;  the  monster  was 
hollow  within,  and  the  lower  jaw  was 
movable,  by  moving  of  which  it  fre- 
quently exhibited  the  inward  contents, 
which  was  filled  wrih  full-grown  devils, 
who  poured  out  liquid  fire  from  the 
"  jaws  of  hell."  At  the  same  time,  the 
figure  was  surrounded  by  a  great  number 
of  external  devils  dressed  in  crape,  wiih 
hideous  masks  and  curled  tails. 

Between  the  figures  which  represented 
"heaven'*  and  "  hell,"  several  young  ladies 
passed  with  wreaths  of  flowers  on  their 
heads,  and  palms  in  their  hands,  riding 
in  elegant  carriages.  After  Hell  followed 
old  Lucifer  himself,  armed  with  a  pitch- 
fork, and  leading  St.  Michael  the  arch- 
angel in  chains,  Michael  and  Lucifer 
were  followed  by  a  person  dressed  in  a 
kind  of  harlequin's  «oat  hung  round  with 
bells,  holding  a  hoop  in  his  hands,  through 
which  he  frequently  jumped,  and  showed 
many  other  feats  of  activity  ;  but  what, 
or  who  he  represented  I  cannot  say  (ex- 
cept it  were  a /oof). 

Then  came  a  grand  carriage,  covered 
with  a  superb  canopy,  from  the  middle 
of  which  hung  a  little  dove ;  under  the 
dove  was  a  table  covered  with  a  carpet, 
at  which  were  sitting  two  women  dressed 
in  white,  with  wings,  pointing  upwards 
to  the  dove.  They  represented  the  saluta- 
tion of  the  Virgin  Mary. 

Next  followed  a  group  of  dancing  boys 
surrounding  a  stable,  in  which  was  seen 
the  Virgin  Mary  again,  and  the  child  in 
the  manger.  This  machine  was  followed 
by  another  fool,  like  the  former,  with  a 
hoop  of  bells. 

The  next  machine  was  a  fish,  fifteen 
feet  long,  moved  by  men,  on  wheels,  con- 
cealed within ;  upon  its  back  sat  a  boy, 
richly  dressed,  and  playing  upon  a  harp. 
The  gold,  silver,  and  jewels,  which  deco- 
rated this  fish,  were  valued  at  ten  thou- 
sand pounds  and  were  finished  by  the 


873 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  24. 


874 


city  merchants,  whose  SOBS  and  daughters 
were  the  principal  actors  in  the  show. 
After  the  fish  came  another  fool,  with  a 
noop,  as  before. 

Then  appeared  Joseph  as  flying  from 
Egypt ;  a  woman  representing  a  virgin 
with  a  young  child  upon  her  lap,  and 
mounted  on  an  ass,  which  was  led  by 
Joseph,  who  had  a  basket  of  tools  on 
his  back,  and  a  long  staff  in  his  hand. 
Joseph  and  his  spouse  were  attended  by 
several  devils,  who  beat  off  the  people 
that  crowded1  too  close  upon  the  proces- 
sion :  these  two  were  followed  by  a  fourth 
fool.,  or  hoop-dancer. 

Then  came  a  large  and  magnificent 
carriage,  on  which  sat  a  person  represent- 
ing the  grand  monarque  sitting  on  a 
throne,  dressed  in  his  robes,  with  a  crown, 
ball,  and  sceptre,  lying  before  him  on  a 
table  covered  with  embroidered  velvet. 
His  most  Christian  majesty  was  attended 
by  several  devils,  hoop-dancers,  and  ban- 
ner-bearers. 

Then  followed  another  machine  bearing 
the  queen  in  her  royal  robes,  attended 
by  a  great  many  ladies  and  maids  of 
honour;  the  jewels  of  her  crown  were 
said  to  be  of  vast  value ;  on  this  stage 
there  was  a  grand  band  of  music,  and 
many  dancers  richly  attired. 

Then  followed  Bacchus,  a  large  fat 
figure,  dressed  in  coloured  silk,  attended 
by  a  great  number  of  bacchanals  holding 
goblets  up  to  their  mouths  as  in  the  act 
of  drinking,  with  a  few  more  devils  »and 
hoop-dancers. 

Then  followed  a  kind  of  a  sea  triumph, 
in  the  front  of  which  appeared  Neptune 
with  his  trident  and  crown,  in  a  large 
shell,  surrounded  by  boys  dressed  in 
Mrhite,  who  were  throwing  out  and  draw- 
ing in  a  deep  sea-lead,  as  sounding  for 
land. 

Six  men  followed  in  white  shirts,  with 
pole*  twenty-five  feet  long,  decorated 
•with  bells  and  flowers  ;  frequently  shak- 
ing their  poles,  or  endeavouring  to  break 
them ;  for  he  who  could  break  one  was 
exempted  a  whole  year  from  all  parish 
duty. 

The  pole-bearers  were  followed  by  a 
large  ship,  representing  a  ship  of  war 
drawn  on  wheels  by  horses,  with  sails 
spread,  colours  flying,  and  brass  guns  on 
board  fired  off  very  briskly  :  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck stood  the  admiral,  captain  and 
boatswain,  who,  when  he  whistled, brought 
the  sailors,  some  dancing,  others 


heaving  the  log,  and  the  tops  filled  with 
boys. 

The  ship  was  followed  by  the  repre- 
sentation of  a  large  wood,  with  men  in 
it  dressed  in  green;  a  green  scaly  skin 
was  drawn  over  their  own,  and  their  faces 
were  masked  to  appear  as  savages,  each 
squirting  water  at  the  people  from  large 
pewter  syringes.  This  piece  of  machinery, 
whieh  was  very  noble,  was  the  production 
of  the  Jesuit's  college,  and  caused  great 
jollity  among  the  common  people. 

The  wood  was  followed  by  a  very  tall 
man,  dressed  like  an  infant  in  a  body- 
coat,  and  walking  in  a  go-cart,  with  a 
rattle  in  his  hand* 

This  infant  was  followed  by  a  man 
forty-five  feet  high,  with  a  boy  looking 
out  of  his  pocket,  shaking  a  rattle  and 
calling  out. — "  grandpapa  !  grandpapa  !" 
He  was  clothed  in  blue  and  gold,  which 
reached  quite  to  the  ground,  and  con- 
cealed a  body  of  men  who  moved  it  and 
made  it  dance. 

After  him  followed  a  figure  nearly  of 
the  same  stature,  mounted  on  a  horse  of 
suitable  size  for  the  enormous  rider,  which 
made  a  most  striking  and  elegant  appear- 
ance, both  man  and  horse  being  executed 
in  a  masterly  manner.  It  was  made  in  a 
moving  posture,  two  of  the  feet  being 
raised  from  the  ground. 

Then  followed  a  woman  of  equal  sta- 
ture, and  not  inferior  in  elegance  to  those 
which  preceded ;  she  had  a  watch  at  her 
side  as  large  as  a  warming-pan,  and  her 
head  and  breast  richly  decorated  with 
jewels;  her  eyes  and  head  turned  very 
naturally;  and  as  she  moved  along  she 
frequently  danced,  and  not  inelegantly. 

"  Thus,"  says  its  describer,  "  ended  the 
Cow-mass,  a  show  scarce  exceeded  by  any 
in  the  known  world/** 


Midsummer  Wrestling. 

In  the  church  of  Bradmore,  Notting- 
hamshire, is  a  monument  for  sir  Thomas 
Parkyns,  who  is  represented  standing  in 
a  posture  for  wrestling,  and  in  another 
part  he  appears  thrown  by  Time,  with 
the  following  lines,  written  by  Dr. 
Friend  :— 

"  Quern  modo  stravisti  longo  in  certamine, 

Tempus, 

Hie  recubat  Britonum   clarus   in   orbe 
pugiL 


*  Town  and  Country  Magazine,   799. 


875 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  25. 


Jam  primum    stratus ;    prater   te    vicerat 

omnes ; 
De   te   etiam  victor,   quaado    resurget, 

erit." 
JVhich  may  be  thus  translated  : — 

Here  lies,  O  Time !  the  victim  of  thy  hand, 
The  noblest  boxer  oa  the  British  strand  : 
His  nervous  airm  each  bold  opposer  quell'd, 
In  feats  of  strength  by  none  but  thee  excell'd  : 
Till,  springing  up,  at  the  last  trumpet's  call, 
He  conquers  thee,  who  wilt  have  conquer'd 
all. 

The  inscription  underneath  takes  notice 
of  his  wife's  fortune,  and  the  estates  he 
purchased;  that  he  rebuilt  his  farm- 
houses, was  skilled  in  architecture  and 
medicine,  and  that  he  wrote  a  book  on 
wrestling,  called  "  The  Cornish  Hug 
Wrestler:1 

This  gentleman  was  remarkable  for  his 
skill  in  that  exercise ;  he  trained  many 
of  his  servants  and  neighbours  to  it,  and 
when  those  manly  (though  now  thought 
unDolished)  diversions  were  in  fashion,  he 
exhibited  his  pupils  in  public  with  no 
small  falat. 

By  his  will  he  left  a  guinea  to  be 
wrestled  for  at  Bradmore  every  midsum- 
mer-day, and  money  to  the  ringers,  of 
whom  he  also  made  one.  He  displayed 
his  learning  in  several  curious  iusoup- 
tions.  Over  a  seat  by  the  road-side,  Hie 
sedeas,  viator  si  tu  defessus  es  ambulando. 
The  honour  of  a  visit  from  a  judge  on  the 
circuit,  was  commemorated  at  the  horse- 
block by,  Hlnc  Justiciarius  Dormer  equum 
ascendere  solebat. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

1340.'  On  the  twenty-fourth  of  June, 
Edward  III.  fought  a  great  naval  battle 
off  Shiys  on  the  coast  of  Flanders,  and 
gained  a  complete  victory  over  the  French. 
Edward's  force  did  not  exceed  two  hun- 
dred and-  forty  sail ;  the  French  had  four 
hundred  sail,  and  forty  thousand  men. 
The  English  took  two  hundred  and  thirty 
of  the  ships,  and  killed  thirty  thousand 
Frenchmen,  and  two  of  their  admirals. 
Edward's  presence  animated  his  archers, 
who  were  as  invincible  then,  as  Iney 
•were  six  years  afterwards  on  the  plains  of 
Cressy. 

NATURALISTS'  CALIFS  LA  a. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  5^-57. 


gune  25. 

1826. — The   first    Sunday    after 
slimmer  Day. 

FELLOWSHIP  PORTERS. 


876 


Mid- 


Mr.  Brand  says,  "  It  is  the  duty  of  the 
rector  of  St.  Mary  at  Hill,  in  which  parish 
Billingsgate  is  situated,  to  preach  a  ser- 
mon every  year,  on  the  first  Sunday  after 
midsummer-day,  before  the  society  of 
Fellowship  Porters,  exhorting  them  to 
be  charitable  towards  their  old  decayed 
brethren,  and  '  to  bear  one  anothefs 
burthens.' " 

It  is  remarkable  that  Mr.Brand,  who  was 
the  rector  of  this  church,  and  who  quotes 
largely  from  the  churchwardens'  accounts 
of  that  parish,  in  illustration  of  mani- 
fold customs  whereon  he  treats,  says 
nothing  further  respecting  his  "  duty," 
as -rector,  towards  the  Fellowship  Porters  : 
he  does  not  even  subjoin  how  long  the 
annual  sermon  appeared  to  have  been 
preached,  nor  does  he  say  so  much  as  a 
recent  compiler  who  notices  the  custom 
as  follows : — 

"  Annually  on  the  Sunday  after  mid- 
^ammer-day,  according  to  ancient  cus- 
tom, the  fraternity  of  Fellowship  Porters 
of  the  city  of  London  repair  to  the  church 
of  St.  Mary  at  Hill  in  the  morning,  where, 
during  the  reading  of  the  psalms,  they 
reverently  approach  the  altar,  two  and 
two,  on  the  rails  of  which  are  placed  two 
basins,  and  into  these  they  put  their 
respective  offerings.  They  are  generally 
followed  by  the  congregation,  and  the 
money  offered  is  distributed  among  the 
aged  poor  and  inferior  members  of  that 
fraternity.* 

The  birds  now  begin  to  be  very  active 
in  devouring  the  fruits,  and  cherryclacks 
are  set  up  to  drive  them  away ;  the  per- 
petual flapping  of  which,  in  the  light 
breezes  by  night,  are  too  well-known 
to  the  student  by  the  nightly  lamp. 

The  Cherryclack. 

The  lamplight  student  wan  aad  pale, 
In  his  chamber  sits  at  ease. 

And  tries  to  read  without  avail ; 
For  every  moment  the  light  breeze 
Springs  up  and  nestles  in  the  trees. 


*  Lambert's  Hist,  of  London,  vol.  >i  f».  4ft*. 


S77 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  26. 


87? 


And  then  be  startles  at  the  sound 
Of  the  noisy  cherry  clack, 

That  drives  its  flippant  windsails  round 
With  Lybs  still  puffing  at  his  back, 
Provoking  endless  click-a-tee-clack. 

The  scholar  tries  and  tries  again 

To  read,  but  can't ;  confounds  the  cherries, 
And  swears  that  every  effort's  vain 

To  answer  all  his  master's  queries  ; 

For  Greek  and  Latin  quite  a  jeer  is, 

Where  every  chorus,  every  verse 
Is  interrupted,  for  alack ! 

When  he  begins  one  to  rehearse, 

The  thread  is  broke,  himself  thrown  back, 
By  this  perpetual  click  a-tee-clack.* 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  55. 


Suite  26. 

MIDSUMMER  HARVEST 
In  France. 

The  harvest  in  Provence  begins  about 
midsummer ;  the  process  of  gathering  it 
in  is  very  different  from  ours.  It  is  cut, 
bound  up  in  sheaves,  and  carried  away 
immediately  to  the  thrashing-floor,  where 
it  is  stacked  up.  The  thrashing-floor,  or 
aire,  (to  give  it  the  name  by  which  it  is 
called  in  the  country,)  is  out  in  the  open 
field ;  it  is  of  a  circular  form,  and  paved 
sometimes  with  stone,  sometimes  with  a 
stiff  clay  beaten  down  till  it  becomes 
nearly  as  hard  as  stone.  In  the  parts 
near  the  aire,  while  one  man  cuts  the 
corn  and  binds  the  sheaves,  another  takes 
them  upon  his  back,  two  or  three  at  a 
time,  and  carries  them  away  to  the  aire ; 
when  the  distance  is  somewhat  greater, 
the  sheaves  are  loaded  upon  an  ass  or 
mule ;  and  when  the  distance  is  consi- 
derable, then  a  cart  is  employed,  provided 
the  ground  be  not  too  steep  to  admit  of 
it,  which  happens  not  unfrequently.  In 
no  case  is  the  corn  left  standing  where 
it  is  cut,  but  carried  away  immediately. 

When  all  is  in  this  manner  collected 
at  the  aire,  it  is  spread  out  thick  upon  it, 
and  one  or  two  horses  or  mules  blind- 
folded, with  a  man  standing  in  the  middle 
and  holding  the  reins,  are  made  to  run 
round  and  round,  tiil  the  corn  is  separated 
from  the  straw ;  after  which  the  one  is 
put  into  sacks  and  stored  up  in  the 
granary,  and  the  other  put  into  a  loft  for 
winter  food  for  the  cattle.  No  such  thing 

*  Dr.  Forster's  Perennial  Calendar. 


as  a  barn  is  to  be  seen,  at  least  in  the 
southern  parts  of  Province. 

Rain  during  harvest  is  so  very  unusual, 
that  this  whole  process  may  be  carried 
on  without  fear  of  interruption  from  wet, 
or  of  the  corn  being  injured  for  want  of 
shelter. 

The  scripture  injunction,  "  not  to 
muzzle  the  ox  that  treadeth  out  the  corn," 
is  explained  by  seeing  this  mode  of  thrash- 
ing. It  is  said  both  to  be  a  more  expeditious 
and  effectual  process  than  the  flail ;  but 
it  appears  very  hard  work  to  the  animals, 
especially  being  performed  under  the 
influence  of  such  a  burning  sun.  Our 
mode  of  thrashing  is,  perhaps,  equally 
hard  work  to  mankind. 

During  the  time  of  harvest,  which  is 
considered  as  lasting  till  the  corn  is  all 
thrashed  and  laid  up,  the  peasant  makes 
the  cornstack  his  bed :  he  sleeps  upon  it, 
attended  by  his  dog,  as  a  precaution 
against  nocturnal  depredators ;  and  the 
air  and  ground  are  both  so  dry,  that  he 
has  nothing  to  apprehend  from  damps.* 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  twenty-sixth  of  June,  1752,  died 
cardinal  Julius  Alberoni.  He  was  born 
in  1664 ;  his  father,  a  gardener  nearParma, 
who  obtained  for  him  a  small  post  in  the 
cathedral  where  he  took  priests  orders, 
was  enabled  by  the  fortune  of  war  to 
serve  Campistron,  the  French  poet,  who 
was  secretary  to  the  duke  of  Vendome, 
and  who  introduced  him  to  that  warrior,  ta 
whom  Alberoni  betrayed  the  granaries  of 
his  countrymen.  Vendome  perceived 
his  talent  for  political  intrigue,  and  in  re- 
ward of  this  treason,  appointed  him  to 
conduct  a  correspondence  with  the  prin- 
cess d'Ursins  who  governed  the  affairs 
of  Spain.  In  quality  of  agent  to  the 
duke  of  Parma,  Alberoni  was  settled 
at  the  Spanish  court,  and  contrived  to 
marry  the  princess  to  Philip  V.  The 
new  queen  gave  him  her  confidence,  and 
obtained  for  him  a  cardinal's  hat ;  he 
was  made  a  grandee  of  Spain,  and  be- 
came prime  minister,  in  which  capacity 
he  endeavoured  to  excite  the  Turks  against 
the  emperor,  attempted  the  restoration  of 
the  pretender  to  the  throne  of  England, 
aimed  at  dispossessing  the  duke  of  Orleans 
from  the  regency  of  France,  and  securing 
it  for  Philip  V.,  and  by  these  and  other 
ambitious  endeavours,  raised  a  host  of 

*  Miss  Plumptre. 


879 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  27. 


880 


enemies  against  Philip,  who  could  only 
obtain  peace  with  France  and  England 
on  condition  of  banishing  Alberoni.  He 
left  Spain  with  immense  property  in  his 
possession,  and  with  the  will  of  Charles 
IT.  by  which  Philip  derived  his  title  to 
the  Spanish  monarchy.  The  document 
was  recovered  from  him  by  force,  and  the 
pope  caused  him  to  be  arrested  at  Geneva 
For  intriguing  against  the  Turks.  He  went 
to  Rome;  the  college  of  cardinals  in- 
quired-into  his  conduct,  and  eonfined  him 
for  a  year  to  the  Jesuits'  college,  and 
Clement  XII.  appointed  him  legate  to 
Romana,  where,  at  the  age  of  seventy, 
he  plotted  the  destruction  of  the  little 
republic  of  San  Marino,  and  was  ludi- 
crously defeated  when  he  imagined  bril- 
liant success.  Alberoni  was  baffled  in 
almost  ev«ry  scheme  of  national  aggres- 
sion. He  accumulated  great  wealth,  a 
universal  reputation  for  political  intrigue, 
and  at  the  age  of  eighty-seven,  died 
rich  and  infamous.* 

THE  SEASON. 

"  Now  "  in  this  month,  as  in  the  month 
of  July,  and  as,  for  example,  in  June, 
1826,  "  we  occasionally  have  one  of  those 
sultry  days  which  make  the  house  too  hot 
to  hold  us,  and  force  us  to  seek  shelter  in 
the  open  air,  which  is  hotter ; — when  the 
interior  of  the  blacksmith's  shop  looks 
awful,  and  we  expect  the  foaming  porter 
pot  to  hiss,  as  the  brawny  forger  dips  his 
fiery  nose  into  it; — when  the  birds  sit 
open-mouthed  upon  the  bushes;  and  the 
fishes  fry  in  the  shallow  ponds ;  and  the 
sheep  and  cattle  congregate  together  in 
the  shade,  and  forget  to  eat;  —when  pe- 
destrians along  dusty  roads  quarrel  with 
their  coats  and  waistcoats,  and  cut  sticks 
to  carry  them  across  their  shoulders ;  and 
cottagers's  wives  go  about  their  work 
gown-less;  and  their  daughters  are 
anxious  to  do  the  same,  but  that  they  have 
the  fear  of  the  vicar  before  their  eyes ; — 
when  every  thing  seen  beyond  a  piece  of 
parched  soil  quivers  through  the  heated 
air;  and  when,  finally,  a  snow-white 
swan,  floating  above  its  own  image,  upon 
a  piece  of  clear  cool  water  into  which  a 
weeping-willow  is  dipping  its  green  fin- 
gers, is  a  sight  not  to  be  turned  from 
suddenly.'*t 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  60    15. 

*  General  Biographical  Dictionary,  vol.  i. 
+  Mirroi  of  the  Months. 


Sum  27. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

,  Fire  in  Lincoln  s  Inn. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  June,  1752 
about  one  in  the  morning,  a  fire  broke  out 
in  Lincoln's-inn  new  square,  by  which  No. 
1 0  and  1 1  were  entirely  consumed .  The 
chambers  of  R.  Wilbraham,  the  hon. 
Edward  Harley,  hon  Charles  York,  E. 
Hoskyns,  —  Chomley,  Edmund  Sawyer, 
master  in  chancery,  and  —  Ansell,  Esqs. 
all  in  No.  10,  with  the  papers,  books, 
plate,  furniture,  and  wearing  apparel 
were  totally  destroyed.  In  the  next 
staircase,  No.  11,  were  Mr.  Jbhrr  Sharpe, 
solicitor  to  the  treasury,  and  Messrs. 
Edward  Booth,  Ambler,  Fazakerly,  Fel- 
lers, and  Wilmot.  The  loss  and  difficul- 
ties in  which  many  families  were  involved, 
the  titles  to  whose  properties  were  lodged 
with  the  above  gentlemen,  were  not  to  be 
computed.  Mr.  Wilbraham  had  lately 
purchased  an  estate  of  great  value,  the 
title-deeds  of  which,. among  other  num- 
berless deeds,  mortgages,  &c.  were  burnt. 
His  clerk,  Mr.  Pickering,  lost  above  eleven 
hundred  pounds  in  money  and.  bank 
notes  of  his  own  and  others,  and  securi- 
ties for  thirty  thousand  pounds  more, 
also  all  the  title-deeds  of  lord  Leigh's 
estate.  When  the  fire  was  discovered  most 
of  the  watch  were  asleep  or  drunk,  and 
the  wife  of  an  upholder  in  Carey-street, 
whose  husband  left  his  bed  to  assist  the 
sufferers,  hanged  herself  in  his  absence.* 

In  1752,  was  living  at  Clee-hall,  near 
Ludlow,  in  Salop,  lady  Wadeley  at  the 
great  age  of  105.  She  had  been  blind 
for  several  years,  but  at  that  time  could 
see  remarkably  well.  She  was  then  walk- 
ing about  in  perfect  health,  and  cutting  a 
new  set  of  teeth.f 


THE  GRAVED 

Why  should  the  grave  be  terrible  1 

Why  should  it  be  a  word  of  fear, 

Jarring  upon  the  mortal  ear  ? 

There  repose  and  silence  dwell : 

The  living  hear  the  funeral  knell, 

But  the  dead  no  funeral  knell  can  hear. 

Does  the  gay  flower  scorn  the  grave  ?  the  dew 

Forget  to  kiss  its  turf?  the  stream 

Refuse  to  bathe  it  1  or  the  beam 

Of  moonlight  shun  the  narrow  bed, 

Where  the  tired  pilgrim  rests  his  head  ? 

No !  the  moon  is  there,  and  smiling  too ! 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


f  Ibkl. 


821 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  '23. 


And  the  sweetest  song  of  the  morning  bird 
Is  oft  in  that  ancient  yew-tree  heard  ; 
And  there  may  you  see  the  harebell  blue 
Bending  his  light  form — gently — proudly, 


And  listen  to  the  fresh  wind?,  loudly 

Playing  around  yon  sod,  as  gay 

As  if  it  were  a  holiday, 

And  children  freed  from  durance  they. 

Bowling. 


of  ORjtoari  tt>e  Jftrs*,  for  tfce  fort  of  Ixmfcmi, 


FOUND  IN  THE  RIVER  THAMES. 


A  remarkably  fine  impression,  of  which 
the  above  is  a  faithful  copy  both  as  to 
size  and  device,  has  been  transmitted  to 
the  editor  of  the  Every-Bay  Book  by  a 
gentleman,  the  initials  of  whose  name  are 
J.  L.,  and  from  him  the  following  ac- 
count has  been  obtained. 

The  seal  itself  was  drawn  by  ballast- 
heavers  from  the  bed  of  the  Thames 
opposite  Queenhithe,  in  1809  or  1810,  and 
purchased  from  them  by  the  late  Mr. 
Redder,  of  Basing-lane.  He  was  by  pro- 
fession a  bricklayer,  but  a  man  of  con- 
siderable taste,  a  lover  of  antiquities,  and 
the  possessor  of  a  collection  of  rare  and 
curious  coins  in  high  preservation,  which 
hs  had  accumulated  at  a  considerable 
expense. 

This  seal,  from  the  inscription  around 
it,  appears  to  have  been  an  official  seal  of 
the  port  of  London.  It  is  of  silver, 
•fery  thick,  beautifully  executed,  and  in 


the  finest  possible  condition.  By  whom 
it  is  now  possessed  is  not  known  to  Mr. 
J.  L.,  whc  received  the  impression  from 
Mr.  Bedder  himself. 

The  editor  may  venture  to  assert  that 
full  justice  is  done  to  it  in  the  preceding 
representation  ;  and  as  he  is  unable  to 
give  further  information,  he  will  be  happy 
to  receive  and  communicate  any  other 
particulars  respecting  the  original. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  60  *  57. 

3une  28. 

A  VILLAGE  FETE. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Dny  Book. 

Wisbech,  June  24,  1 826. 
Dear  Sir, — The  rural  village  of  Wis- 
bech  St.  Mary,   two  miles   west   of  this 


8**?  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNE  28,  884 

town,  has  long  been  famous  for  its  annual  a  tendency  to  keep  alive  the  manners  and 

exhibition    of    rustic    sports,    under   the  customs  of  our  ancestors,  I  send  it  for 

patronage  of  John  Ream,  Esq.,  on  whose  insertion  in  the  Every-Day  Book. 

lawn  they  are  celebrated.     The  enclosed  And  am, 

bill  is  an  outline  of  the  amusements  for  Dear  Sir, 

the  present  year.     Knowing  you  have  a  Yours,  with  very  great  respect, 

pleasure  in  recording  eveiy  thing  that  has  J>  *  • 

[COPY.] 

"  Trembling  age,  with  happy  smile, 

Youth's  high-mettled  Gambols  view, 
Aud  by  fancy  warm'd  awhile, 

Scenes  of  former  bliss  renew ; 
Love  repeats  his  tender  tale, 

Cheeks  responsive  learn  to  glow,  „ 

And  while  Song  and  Jest  prevail, 

Nut-brown  tankards  circling  flow. 
Wouldst  thou  wish  such  joys  to  share, 
Haste  then  to  the  Village  Fair." 

WISBECH  ST.  MARY'S 

RACES, 

And  annual  exhibition  of  Rustic  Sports, 

Will  this  Year  be  celebrated  with  the  usual  Splendour,  on 

Wednesday  and  Thursday,  June  2Qth  and  29th,  1826. 

This  Annual  Festival  is  now  considered  as  a  superior  Establishment  to  a  Country 
Fair  or  other  Merry-making,  by  the  Numerous  Respectable  and  Fashionable  Assem- 
blage of  Company,  who  regularly  attend  from  all  parts  of  the  Neighbourhood.  Un- 
disturbed by  those  scenes  of  intoxication  and  disorder,  so  usually  prevalent  at  Village 
Feasts,  the  greatest  harmony  prevails  throughout,  and  the  superior  Accommodation 
afforded  by  the  Landlord  of  the  WHEEL  INN  to  all  classes  of  well-behaved  and 
respectable  Visiters,  cannot  fail  to  render  WISBECH  ST.  MARY'S  RACES  popular 
and  attractive ;  or,  in  language  more  poetical — 

"  To  gild  with  Joy  the  Wings  of  Time." 

The  Sports  to  consist  of  Horse,  Pony,  and  Donkey  Racing; — Wheelbarrow 
Racing ; — Jumping  in  Sacks ; — Jingling  Matches,  and  Foot  Racing ;  all  for 

FREE  PRIZES. 

And  to  add  a  greater  stimulus  to  the  aspiring  PLOUGH  BOY,  and  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  Agriculture  in  general,  the  Stewards  purpose  having 

A  PLOUGHING  MATCH, 

When  will  be  given  a  Sovereign  for  the  best,  and  a  Half-sovereign  for  the  second 
best  Furrow,  to  be  determined  by  impartial  Judges  chosen  on  the  ground.  The  first 
Plough  to  start  on  Thursday  Morning  at  Ten  o'Clock  precisely. 

By  the  Plough  the  Poor  Weaver  depends  for  his  bread- 
By  the  Plough  we  in  turn  behold  the  rich  mow — 

By  the  Plough  all  our  tables  with  pleaty  are  spread- 
Then  who  but  must  wish  Success  to  the  Plough  I 

A  full  Band  is  engaged  to  play  loyal  and  popular  Tunes  during  the  Amusement*, 
which  will  commence  each  Evening  precisely  at  Five  o'clock. 


EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JUNL  29  30 


886 


There'll  be  a  sound  of  revelry  by  night, 

And  Saint  Mary's  Village  will  assemble  then 

Her  Maids  and  Ploughmen  :  and  bright 

The  lights  will  shine  o'er  fair  women  and  brave  roen  ; 

A  thousand  hearts  beat  happily  !  and  when 

Music  arises  with  its  voluptuous  swell, 

Soft  eyes  look  love  to  eyes,  which  speak  again, 

And  all  go  merry  as  a  marriage  bell. 

Tickets  for  the  Ball  to  be  had  at  the  bar  of  the  Wheel  Inn 

(Leach,  Printer,  Wisbech.) 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR, 
Mean  Temperature  ....  60  •  85. 

3une  29. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  twenty -ninth  of  June,  1813,  died 
\t  his  house  in  St.  Alban's-street,  London, 
Valentine  Green,  Esq.  A.R.S.,  keeper  of 
the  British  Institution  ;  greatly  respected 
for  his  superior  talents  as  a  mezzotinto 
engraver,  for  the  purity  and  universality  of 
his  taste  in  works  of  art,  for  the  general 
urbanity  of  his  manners,  and  for  that  in- 
variable benignity  of  disposition,  which, 
in  popular  language,  is  usually  styled 
"  goodness  of  heart." 

Mr.  Green,  besides  his  distinguished 
merit  as  an  artist,  acquired  considerable 
reputation  as  an  author,  by  publishing,  in 
1796,  a  valuable  work,  entitled,  "  The 
History  and  Antiquities  of  the  City  and 
Suburbs  of  Worcester,"  in  two  quarto 
volumes ;  a  performance  of  great  research 
and  labour.  He  was  born  at  Salford, 
near  Chipping-Norton,  in  Oxfordshire, 
October  3,  1739.* 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  70. 

gime  30. 

LONDON  PORTER. 

All  the  world  knows  that  London  is 
famous  for  porter  ;  it  is  not  of  this  porter 
we  speak  to-day,  but  of  a  personage  who 
derives  his  quality  from  the  means  by 
which  he  has  attained  the  honour  of 
doing  credit  to  the  corporation.  The 
individual  alluded  to,  was  publicly  made 
known  by  a  police  report  of  the  thirtieth 
of  June,  1826,  viz. — 

Mr,  Alderman  Wood  came  to  the  Man- 

*  Butler's  Chron.  Exercises. 


sion-house  for  the  purpose  of  contradicting 
a  statement  which  appeared  in  the  Courier 
newspaper,  that  he  had  persecuted  a  poor 
man,  named  Brown,  and  procured  his 
discharge,  for  sticking  up  bills  against 
him  (Alderman  Wood).  He  thought  it 
worth  while  not  to  let  such  a  statement 
go  unanswered ;  for  he  never  exercised 
such  an  influence  in  the  course  of  his  life, 
and  he  never  heard  of  such  a  man  until 
the  charge  was  made  in  the  newspaper. 
He  wished  to  know  whether  there  really 
was  such  a  man  connected  with  the  Man- 
sion-house establishment. 

The  Lord  Mayor  said,  he  believed 
there  was  such  a  man,  not  belonging  to 
the  Mansion-house,  but  to  the  Mansion- 
house  porter.  The  fact  was,  that  their 
porter,  like  the  porter  to  the  "  Castle  of 
Indolence,"  hacf  become  so  exceedingly 
fat,  that  he  had  employed  a  valet  to  do 
the  only  work  which  there  was  for  him  to 
do — namely,  to  sweep  the  gateway.  This 
valet  was  the  aforesaid  Brown,  in  whom 
the  liberty  of  the  subject,  and  the 
constitution,  was  alleged  to  have  been 
violated.  How,  or  why,  he  had  quitted 
the  Mansion-house,  the  porter  alone  could 
tell. 

The  porter  was  then  sent  for,  and  he 
waddled  into  the  justice-room.  In  an- 
swer to  his  lordship's  inquiries,  he  stated 
that  he  had  employed  Brown  at  half-a- 
crown  per  week,  to  sweep  the  door  and 
do  other  work  for  him. 

The  LORD  MAYOR. — When  did  he 
absent  himself  from  his  duty  ? — The 
porter  replied,  it  was  about  three  weeks 
ago. 

The  LORD  MAYOR. — Did  you  discharge 
him  from  his  office  on  constitutional 
grounds,  or  for  acting  against  Mr.  Alder- 
man Wood  ? 

The  PORTER. — Bless  your  worship,  no : 
I  can't  tell  why  he  went  off. 

Alderman  Wood  professed  himself 
satisfied  with  this  contradiction  :  ho 
thought  the  affair  unworthy  of  farther 


887 


THE  EVE11Y-DAY  BOOK—  JUNE  30. 


888 


attention.  He  had  been  challenged  to 
prove  his  statement  respecting  the  bills, 
and  he  had  proved  it.* 

From  this  description  of  the  "  initial" 
to  the  Mansion-house,  he  seemed  "  a  fit 
and  proper  person"  to  be  taken  by  a 
"  limner,"  and  represented,  by  the  art  of 
the  engraver,  to  the  readers  of  the  Every- 
Day  Book.  An  artist  every  way  quali- 
fied was  verbally  instructed  to  view  him  ; 
but  instead  of  transmitting  his  "  faithful 
portrait,"  he  sent  a  letter,  of  which  the  fol- 
lowing is  a 


T    MI 

lo  Mr.  Hone. 

Dear  Sir,—  I  went  this  morning  to  the 
Mansion-house  and  had  an  interview 
with  the  porter  ,  but  that  porter  was  very 
Afferent  to  what  I  expected  to  have 
found  Instead  of  a  very  fat  lazy  fellow, 
atted  by  indolence  I  found  a  short  active 
little  man  about  five  feet  high,  not  fat 
nor  lean,  but  o  comfortable  size,  dressed 
in  black,  powdered  hair,  and  top  boots 
pleasing  and  easy  m  his  manners,  and 

*  The  Times,  July  1,  1826. 


such  a  one  that  every  one  would  sup- 
pose  would  get  an  inferior  person  to  do 
his  dirty  work.  There  is  nothing  extra- 
ordinary  in  him  to  be  remarkable,  there- 
fore  I  made  no  sketch  of  him;  but  pro- 
ceeded  to  Limehouse  on  a  little  business, 
and  from  thence  home,  and  feel  so  exces- 
sively  tired  that  I  send  this  scrawl,  hoping 
you  will  excuse  me  coming  myself. 
Yours  respectfully, 

-- 

Between  this   gentleman's     "view    of 
the  subject>,  and  ?he  preceding  „  report/, 

there  ig  a  palpable  difference  ;  where  the 
mistake  lies,  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  the 
editor  to  determine.  The  letter-writer 
himself  ig  „  of  a  comfortable  si  »  aud 

is  aimost  iiable  to  the  suspicion  of  having 
seen  the  f  of  the  Mansion.bouseb 

from  the  opposite  passage  of  the  Mansion- 
house  tave^  a§  ^  £  an  inverted  tdes_ 

The   lmd    m        »s   al,      d   com_ 
£SQn  of  the  /  ftt  hig    *wn 

{^  the  r  lof  the  „  Gastle  of  Jnd()_ 

,          „  J      justif     an    ^^   of  lh 
stanzas  wh(freiJn  „  fa  porter/,  ^  «h|g 

man"  are  described. 


Wak'd  by  the  crowd,  slow  from  his  bench  arose 
A  comely,  full  spread  porter,  swoln  with  sleep  : 
His  calm,  broad,  thoughtless  aspect,  breath'd  repose 
And  in  sweet  torpour  he  was  plunged  deep, 
Nor  could  himself  from  ceaseless  yawning  keep  ; 
While  o'er  his  eyes  the  drowsy  liquor  ran, 
Thro*  which  his  half-wak'd  soul  would  faintly  peep  — 
Then  taking  his  black  staff,  he  call'd  his  man, 
And  rous'd  himself  as  much  as  rouse  himself  he  can. 

The  lad  leap'd  lightly  at  his  master's  call  : 

He  was,  to  weet,  a  little  rogueish  page, 

Save  sleep  and  play  who  minded  naught  at  all, 

Like  most  the  untaught  striplings  of  the  age. 

This  boy  he  kept  each  band  to  disengage, 

Garters  and  buckles,  task  for  him  unfit, 

But  ill  becoming  his  grave  personage, 

And  which  his  portly  paunch  would  not  permit, 

So  this  same  limber  page  to  all  performed  it. 
Meantime  the  master-porter  wide  display'd 
Great  store  of  caps,  of  slippers,  and  of  gowns  ; 
Wherewith  he  those  that  enter'd  in  array'd. 
Loose,  as  the  breeze  that  plays  along  the  downs, 
And  waves  the  summer-woods  when  evening  frowns, 
O  fair  undress,  best  dress  !  it  checks  no  vein, 
But  every  flowing  limb  in  pleasure  drowns, 
And  heightens  ease  with  grace,  this  done,  right  fain 

Sir  porter  sat  him  down,  and  turned  to  sleep  again. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  61  .  4C. 


R39 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY. 


JULY. 

Our  saxon  fathers  did  full  rightly  call 

This  month  of  July  "  Hay-monath,"  when  all 

The  verdure  of  the  full  clothed  fields  we  mow, 

And  turn,  and  rake,  and  carry  off;  and  so 

We  build  it  up,  in  large  and  solid  mows. 

If  it  be  good,  as  every  body  knows, 

To  "  make  hay  while  the  sun  shines,"  we  should  choose 

Right  "  times  for  all  things/'  and  no  time  abuse.  * 

Fn  July  we  have  full  summer.  The  nature.  "  The  rye  is  yellow,  and  almost 
"  Mirror  of  the  Months*'  presents  its  ripe  for  the  sickle.  The  wheat  and  bar- 
various  influences  on  the  open  face  of  ley  are  of  a  dull  green,  from  their  swelling 


691 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY. 


892 


ears  being  alone  visible,  as  they  bow  be- 
fore every  breeze  that  blows  over  them. 
The  oats  are  whitening  apace,  and  quiver, 
each  individual  grain  on  its  light  stem,  as 
they  hang  like  rain-drops  in  the  air. 
Looked  on  separately,  and  at  a  distance, 
these  three  now  wear  a  somewhat  dull 
and  monotonous  hue,  when  growing  in 
great  spaces ;  but  these  will  be  intersected, 
in  all  directions,  by  patches  of  the  bril- 
liant emerald  which  now  begins  to  spring 
afresh  on  the  late-mown  meadows ;  by 
the  golden  yellow  of  the  rye,  in  some 
cases  cut,  and  standing  in  sheaves  ;  by 
the  rich  dark  green  of  the  turnip-fields ; 
and  still  more  brilliantly  by  sweeps,  here 
and  there,  of  the  bright  yellow  charlock, 
the  scarlet  corn-poppy,  arid  the  blue  suc- 
cory, which,  like  perverse  beauties,  scatter 
the  stray  gifts  of  their  charms  in  propor- 
tion as  the  soil  cannot  afford  to  support 
the  expenses  attendant  on  them." 

On  the  high  downs,  "  all  the  little 
molehills  are  purple  with  the  flowers  of 
the  wild  thyme,  which  exhales  its  rich 
aromatic  odour  as  you  press  it  with  your 
feet ;  and  among  it  the  elegant  blue 
heath-bell  is  nodding  its  half-dependent 
head  from  its  almost  invisible  stem, — its 
perpetual  motion,  at  the  slightest  breath 
of  air,  giving  it  the  look  of  a  living  thing 
hovering  on  invisible  wings  just  above 
the  ground.  Every  here  and  there,  too, 
we  meet  with  little  patches  of  dark  green 
heaths,  hung  all  over  with  their  clusters  of 
exquisitely  wrought  filigree  flowers,  end- 
less in  the  variety  of  their  forms,  but  all 
of  the  most  curiously  delicate  fabric,  and 
all,  in  their  minute  beauty,  unparalleled 
by  the  proudest  occupiers  of  the  parterre. 
This  is  the  singular  family  of  plants  that, 
when  cultivated  in  pots,  and  trained  to 
form  heads  on  separate  stems,  give  one 
the  idea  of  the  forest  trees  of  a  Lilliputian 
people."  Here,  too,  are  the  "  innum- 
erable little  thread-like  spikes  that  now 
rise  from  out  the  level  turf,  with  scarcely 
perceptible  seed-heads  at  top,  and  keep 
the  otherwise  dead  flat  perpetually  alive, 
by  bending  and  twinkling  beneath  the 
sun  and  breeze." 

In  the  green  lanes  "  we  shall  find  the 
ground  beneath  our  feet,  the  hedges 
that  enclose  us  on  either  side,  and  the 
dry  banks  and  damp  ditches  beneath 
them,  clothed  in  a  beautiful  variety  of 
flowers  that  we  have  not  yet  had  an  op- 
portunity of  noticing.  In  the  hedge-rows 
'which  are  now  grown  into  impervious 


walls  of  many-coloured  and  many-shaped 
leaves,  from  the  fine  filigree-work  of  the 
white-thorn,  to  the  large,  coarse,  round 
leaves  of  the  hazel)  we  shall  find  the  most 
remarkable  of  these,  winding  up  intri- 
cately among  the  crowded  branches,  and 
shooting  out  their  flowers  here  and  there, 
among  other  leaves  than  their  own,  or 
hanging  themselves  into  festoons  and 
fringes  on  the  outside,  by  unseen  tendrils. 
Most  conspicuous  among  the  first  of  these 
is  the  great  bind-weed,  thrusting  out  its 
elegantly-formed  snow-white  flowers,  but 
carefully  concealing  its  leaves  and  stem  in 
the  thick  of  the  shrubs  which  yield  it  sup- 
port. Nearer  to  the  ground,  and  mote 
exposed,  we  shall  meet  with  a  handsome 
relative  of  the  above,  the  common  red 
and  white  wild  convolvolus  ;  while  all 
along  'the  face  of  the  hedge,  clinging  to  it 
lightly,  the  various  coloured  vetches,  and 
the  enchanter's  night-shade,  hang  their 
flowers  into  the  open  air ;  the  first  ex- 
quisitely fashioned,  with  wings  like  the 
pea,  only  smaller;  and  the  other  elaborate 
in  its  construction  and  even  beautiful, 
with  its  rich  purple  petals  turned  back  to 
expose  a  centre  of  deep  yellow ;  but  still, 
with  all  its  beauty,  not  without  a  strange 
and  sinister  look,  which  at  once  points  it 
out  as  a  poison -flower.  It  is  this  which 
afterwards  turns  to  those  bunches  of 
scarlet  berries  which  hang  so  temptingly 
in  autumn,  just  within  the  reach  of  little 
children,  and  which  it  requires  all  the 
eloquence  of  their  grandmothers  to  pre- 
vent them  from  tasting.  In  the  midst  of 
these,  and  above  them  all,  the  woodbine 
now  hangs  out  its  flowers  more  profusely 
than  ever,  and  rivals  in  sweetness  all  the 
other  field  scents  of  this  month. 

"  On  the  bank.from  which  the  hedge- 
row rises,  and  on  this  side  of  the  now 
nearly  dry  water-channel  beneath,  fring- 
ing the  border  of  the  green  path  on  which 
we  are  walking,  a  most  rich  variety  of 
field-flowers  will  also  now  be  found.  We 
dare  not  stay  to  notice  the  half  of  them, 
because  their  beauties,  though  even  more 
exquisite  than  those  hitheito  described, 
are  of  that  unobtrusive  nature  that  you 
must  stoop  to  pick  them  up,  and  must 
come  to  an  actual  commune  with  them, 
before  they  can  be  even  seen  distinctly,; 
which  is  more  than  our  desultory  and 
fugitive  gaze  will  permit,— the  plan  of  our 
walk  only  allowing  us  to  pay  the  passing 
homage  of  a  word  to  those  objects  that 
ivill  not  be  overlooked.  Many  of  the 


893 


THE  EVEIIY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  1 


894 


exquisite  little  flowers,  now  alluded  to 
generally,  look,  as  they  lie  among  their 
low  leaves,  only  like  minute  morsels  of 
•many-coloured  glass  scattered  upon  the 
green  ground — scarlet,  and  sapphire,  and 
rose,  and  purple,  and  white,  and  azure, 
and  golden.  But  pick  them  up,  and 
bring  them  towards  the  eye,  and  you  will 
find  them  pencilled  with  a  thousand 
dainty  devices,  and  elaborated  into  the 
most  exquisite  forms  and  fancies,  fit  to  be 
strung  into  necklaces  for  fairy  Titania,  or 
set  in  broaches  and  bracelets  for  the  neat- 
est-handed of  her  nymphs. 

"  But  there  are  many  others  that  come 
into  bloom  this  month,  some  of  which 
we  cannot  pass  unnoticed  if  we  would. 
Conspicuous  among  them  are  the  cen- 
taury,  with  its  elegant  cluster  of  small, 
pink,  star-like  flowers ;  the  ladies'  bed- 
straw,  with  its  rich  yellow  tufts ;  the 
meadow-sweet — sweetest  of  all  the  sweet- 
ners  of  the  meadows  ;  the  wood  betony, 
lifting  up  its  handsome  head  of  rose- 
coloured  blossoms  ;  and,  still  in  full  per- 
fection, and  towering  up  from  among  the 
low  groundlings  that  usually  surround  it, 
the  stately  fox-glore. 

"  Among  the  other  plants  that  now  be- 
come conspicuous,  the  wild  teasal  must 
not  be  forgotten,  if  it  be  only  on  account 
of  the  use  that  one  of  the  summer's  pret- 
tiest denizens  sometimes  makes  of  it.  The 
wild  teasal  (which  now  puts  on  as  much 
the  appearance  of  a  flower  as  its  rugged 
nature  will  let  it)  is  that  species  of  thistle 
vvhich  shoots  up  a  strong  serrated  stem, 
straight  as  an  arrow,  and  beset  on  all 
sides  by  hard  sharp-pointed  thorns,  and 
bearing  on  its  summit  a  hollow  egg- 
shaped  head,  also  covered  at  all  points 
with  the  same  armour  of  threatening 
thorns — as  hard,  as  thickly  set,  and  as 
sharp  as  a  porcupine's  quills.  Often 
within  this  fortress,  impregnable  to  birds, 
bees,  and  even  to  mischievous  boys 
themselves,  that  beautiful  moth  which 
flutters  about  so  gaily  during  the  first 
weeks  of  summer,  on  snow-white  wings 
spotted  all  over  with  black  and  yellow, 
lakes  up  its  final  abode, — retiring  thither 
when  weary  of  its  desultory  wanderings, 
and  after  having  prepared  for  the  perpe- 
tuation of  its  ephemeral  race,  sleeping 
.tself  to  death,  to  the  rocking  lullaby  of 
the  breeze. 

"  Now,  too,  if  we  pass  near  some 
gently  lapsing  water,  we  may  chance  to 
meet  with  the  splendid  flowers  of  the 
great  water  lily,  floating  on  the  surface  of 
the  stream  liK  some  fairy  vessel  at  an- 


chor, and  making  visible,  as  it  ripples  by 
it,  the  elsewhere  imperceptible  current. 
Nothing  can  be  more  elegant  than  each 
of  the  three  different  states  under  which 
this  flower  now  appears ;  the  first,  while 
it  lies  unopened  among  its  undulating 
leaves,  like  the  halcyon's  egg  within  its 
floating  nest;  next,  when  its  snowy 
petals  are  but  half  expanded,  and  you 
are  almost  tempted  to  wonder  what  beau- 
tiful bird  it  is  that  has  just  taken  its 
flight  from  such  a  sweet  birth-place;  and 
lastly,  when  the  whole  flower  floats  con- 
fessed, and  spreading  wide  upon  the 
water  its  pointed  petals,  offers  its  whole 
heart  to  the  enamoured  sun.  There  is  I 
know  not  what  of  awful  in  the  beauty  of 
this  flower.  It  is,  to  all  other  flowers, 
what  Mrs.  Siddons  is  to  all  other  wo- 
men."* 


COCKLETOP. 

Munden.- — Farren. 

July  1, 1826. — Mr.  Farren  appeared  in 
the  part  of  Old  Cockletop,  in  O'Keefe's 
farce  of  Modern  Antiques,  at  the  Hay- 
market  theatre.  This  will  be  recollected 
as  a  crack  character  of  Munden's;  and  it 
was  one  which  he  had  hit  so  happily, 
that  it  became  almost  impossible  for  any 
other  actor  to  play  it  very  successfully 
after  him.  There  was  a  sort  of  elfin 
antic — a  kind  of  immateriality  about  the 
crotchets  of  Munden  in  Cockletop.  His 
brain  seemed  to  have  no  more  substance 
in  it  than  the  web  of  a  spider;  and  he 
looked  dried  up  in  body  and  mind, 
almost  to  a  transparency ;  he  might  have 
stood  in  a  window  and  not  been  in  the 
way — you  could  see  the  light  through  him. 
Farren  is  the  bitterest  old  rascal  on  the 
stage.  He  looks,  and  moves  always,  as 
if  he  had  a  blister  (that  wanted  fresh 
dressing)  behind  each  ear;  but  he  does 
not  touch  the  entirely  withered,  crazy- 
brained,  semi-bedlamite  old  rogue,  in  the 
way  that  Munden  did.  Munden  con- 
trived to  give  all  the  weakness  possible  to 
extreme  age  in  Cockletop,  without  excit- 
ing an  iota  of  compassion.  All  that  there 
was  of  him  was  dry  bones  and  wicked- 
ness. You  could  not  help  seeing  that  he 
would  be  particularly  comical  under  the 
torture;  and  you  could  not  feel  the 
slightest  compunction  in  ordering  that  he 
should  undergo  it.  There  never  was  any 
thing  like  his  walking  up  and  down 

*  Mirror  of  the  Months 


8Q5                             THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-^JULY  1.  8-6 

Drury-.ane  stage   in  astonishment,    and  like  his  may  use  a  latitude  :  he  has  origi- 

concluding-  he  must  be  "  at  next  door,"  nality  enough  to  warrant  his  at  least  not 

when  he  returns  home  from  his  journey,  avoiding  the  device  which  has  been  used 

and  finds  all  his  servants  in  mourning  !  by  any  actor,  purely  because  it  has  been 

And  the  cloak  that  he  wore  too  !     And  used  by  somebody  else  before  him.  Some 

the  appendage  that  he  called  his  **  storm-  passages  that  he  gave  were  quite  as  gooa 

cap  !"     He  looked  like  a  large  ape's  skin  as  Munden.     In  the  scene  where  he  fan- 

stuffed  with  hay,  ready  to  hang  up  in  an  cies  himself  taken  ill,  the  pit  was  in  two 

apothecary's  shop!       You  ran  over  all  minds  to  get  up  and  cheer.     He  made 

the  old  fools  that  you  knew,  one  after  the  face  like  a  bear  troubled  suddenly  with 

other,  to  recollect  somebody  like  him,  but  symptoms  of  internal   commotion!    one 

could  not  succeed  !     Farren  plays  Fore-  who  had  eaten  a  bee-hive  for  the  sake  of 

sight  as  well  as  Munden  ;  and  he  plays  the   honey,  and   began  to  have  inward 

Cockletop  very  successfully  ;   but   it   is  misgivings  that  there  must  have  been  bees 

hardly  possible  for  one  eminent  actor  to  mixed  up  along  with   it.     And  Farren 

follow    another    in'    trifling    characters,  possesses  the  gift  too—  a  most  valuable 

where  the  first  has  made  a  hit  rather  by  one  in  playing  to  an  English  audience  — 

his  own  inventions  than   by  any   thing  of  exhibiting  the  suffering  without  excit- 

which  the  author  has  set  down  for  him.  ing  the  smallest  sympathy!     Whenever 

Munden's  dancing  in  the  ghost-scene  with  there  is  any  thing  the  matter  with  him, 

the  servants,  and  his  conclusion  —  striking  you  hope  he'll  get  worse  with  all  your 

an  attitude,  with  the  -fingers  of  one  hand  soul;  and,  if  he  were   drowning  —  with 

open  like  a  bunch  of  radish,  as  the  fiddler,  that  face!  —  he  must  die::—  -you  could  not, 

used  to  keep  the  audience  in  convulsions  if  you  were  to  die  yourself,  take  one  step, 

for  two  minutes.      Farren   avoided  this  for  laughing,  to  save  him.* 

trick,  probably  lest  he  should  be  charged  _________ 

with  imitation  ;  but  acknowledged  talent  «  The  Times>  July  3>  I8K> 


The  sun  comes  on  apace,  and  thro'  the  signs 
Travels  unwearied  ;  as  he  hotter  grows, 

Above,  the  herbage,  and  beneath,  the  mines, 
Own  his  warm  influence,  while  his  axle  glows; 

The  flaming  lion  meets  him  on  the  way, 

Proud  to  receive  the  flaming  god  of  day. 

In  fullest  bloom  the  damask  rose  is  seen, 
Carnations  boast  their  variegated  die, 

The  fields  of  corn  display  a  vivid  green, 
And  cherries  with  the  crimson  orient  vie, 

The  hop  in  blossom  climbs  the  lofty  pole, 

Nor  dreads  the  lightning,  tho'  the  thunders  roll. 

The  wealth  of  .Flora  like  the  rainbow  shows, 
Blending  her  various  hues  of  light  and  shade, 

How  many  tints  would  emulate  the  rose, 
Or  imitate  the  lily's  bright  parade  ! 

The  flowers  of  topaz  and  of  sapphire  vie 

With  all  the  richest  tinctures  of  the  sky. 

The  vegetable  world  is  all  alive, 

Green  grows  the  gooseberry  on  its  bush  of  thorn, 
The  infant  bees  now  swarm  around  the  hive, 

And  the  sweet  bean  perfumes  the  lap  of  morn, 
Millions  of  embryos  take  the  wing  to  fly, 
The  young  inherit,  and  the  old  ones  die. 

Tig  summer  all—  convey  me  to  the  bower, 
The  bower  of  myrtle  form'd  by  Myra's  skill, 

There  let  me  waste  away  the  noontide  hour, 
Fann'd  by  the  breezes  from  yon  cooling  rill, 

By  Myra's  side  reclin'd,  the  burning  ray 

Shall  be  as  grateful  as  the  cool  of  day. 


.897 


THE  KVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  2. 


898 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  61  .  07. 

2. 

Wimble. 

On  the  second  of  July,  1741,  died  at 
Dublin,  Mr.  Thomas  Morecroft,  "  a 
baronet's  younger  son,  the  person  men- 
tioned by  the  '  Spectator'  in  the  character 
of  Will  Wimble. 

This  notice  is  from  the  "  Gentleman's 


Magazine"  for  1741,  as  also  is  the  fol- 
lowing : — 

On  the  same  day,  in  the  same  year,  the 
earl  of  Halifax  married  Miss  Dunck, 
with  a  fortune  of  one  hundred  thousand 
pounds.  It  appears  that,  "  according  to 
the  will  of  Mr.  Dunck,  this  lady  was  to 
marry  none  but  an  honest  tradesman, 
who  was  to  take  the  name  of  Dunck ;  for 
which  reason  his  lordship  took  the  free- 
dom of  the  sadlers'  company,  exercised 
the  trade,  and  added  the  name  to  his 


(For  the  Every- Day  Book.) 
A  SHORTE  AND  SWEETE  SONNETT  ON  THE  SUBTILTIE   OF  LOVE 

BY  CORNELIUS  MAY. 
From  "  the  Seven  Starres  of  Wilted 

You  cannot  barre  love  oute 

Father,  mother  and  you  alle, 
For  marke  mee  he's  a  crafty  boy, 

And  his  limbes  are  very  smalle ; 
He's  lighter  than  the  thistle  downe, 

He's  fleeter  than  the  dove, 
His  voice  is  like  the  nightingale  ; 

And  oh  !  beware  of  love ! 

For  love  can  masquerade. 

When  the  wisest  doe  not  see ; 
He  has  gone  to  many  a  blessed  sainte 

Like  a  virgin  devotee ; 
He  has  stolen  thro'  the  convent  grate, 

A  painted  butterfly, 
And  I've  scene  in  many  a  mantle's  fold 

His  twinkling  roguish  eye. 

He'll  come  doe  what  you  will ; 

The  Pope  cannot  keepe  him  oute  ; 
And  of  late  he's  learnt  such  evill  waies 

You  must  hold  his  oathe  in  doute  : 
From  the  lawyers  he  has  learned 

Like  Judas  to  betraye  ; 
From  the  monkes  to  live  like  martyred  saintes 

Yet  cast  their  soules  awaye. 

He  has  beene  at  courte  soe  long 

That  he  weares  the  courtier's  smile  ; 
For  every  maid  he  has  a  lure, 

For  every  man  a  wile ; 
Philosophers  and  alchymistes 

Your  idle  toile  give  o'er, 
Young  love  is  wiser  than  ye  alle 

And  teaches  ten  times  more. 

Strong  barres  and  boltes  are  vaine 

To  keepe  the  urchin  in, 
For  while  the  goaler  turned  the  keys 

He  would  trapp  him  in  his  ein. 
Vsc.II.-81. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  3. 


900 


You  neede  not  hope  by  maile  of  proofe 

To  shun  his  cruell  darte, 
For  he'll  change  himselfe  to  a  shirt  of  maile 

And  lye  nexte  to  your  hearte. 

More  scathfull  than  an  evill  eye, 

Than  ghost  or  grammerie, 
Not  seventy  times  seven  holy  prieste* 

Could  laye  him  in  the  sea. 
Then  father  mother  cease  to  chide 

I'll  doe  the  best  I  maye , 
And  when  I  see  young  love  coming 

I'll  up  and  run  awaye. 


On  the  second  day  of  July,  1744,  is 
recorded  the  birth  of  a  son  to  Mr.  Arthur 
Bulkeley. 

The  child's  baptism  is  remarkable  from 
these  circumstances.  The  infant's  god- 
fathers, by  proxy,  were  Edward  Downes, 
of  Worth,  in  Cheshire,  Esq.  his  great- 
great-great-great  uncle;  Dr.  Ashton, 
master  of  Jesus-college,  Cambridge,  and 
his  brother,  Mr.  Joseph  Ashton,  of  Surrey- 
street,  in  the  Strand,  his  great-great-great 
uncles.  His  godmothers  by  their  proxies 
were,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Wood,  of  Barnsley, 
Yorkshire,  his  great-great-great-great  aunt; 
Mrs.  Jane  Wainwright,  of  Middlewood- 
hall,  Yorkshire,  his  great-great  grandmo- 
ther; and  Mrs.  Dorothy  Green,  of  the  same 
place,  his  great  grandmother.  It  was 
observed  of  Mrs.  Wainwright,  who  was 
then  eighty-nine  years  of  age,  that  she 
could  properly  say,  "  Rise,  daughter,  go 
to  thy  daughter ;  for  thy  daughter's 
daughter  has  a  son." 

Mrs.  Wainwright  was  sister  to  Dr. 
Ashton  and  his  brother  mentioned  above, 
•whose  father  and  mother  were  twice  mar- 
ried, "  first  before  a  justice  of  peace  by 
Cromwell's  law,  and  afterwards,  as  it  was 
common,  by  a  parson ;  they  lived  sixty- 
four  years  together,  and  during  the  first  fifty 
years  in  one  house,  at  Bradway,  in  Der- 
byshire, where,  though  they  had  twelve 
children  and  six  servants  in  family,  they 
never  buried  one."* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  . .  .  62  . 1 


3, 

Dog  days  begin. 


"  ALL — FOR  A  PENNY  !" 
On  the  third  of  Julv,  1751,  William 

*   Gentleman's  Magazine. 


Dellicot  was  convicted  at  the  quarter- 
sessions  for  Salisbury,  of  petty  larceny,  for 
stealing  one  penny ;  whereby  his  effects, 
consisting  of  bank-notes  to  the  amount  of 
180/.,  and  twenty  guineas  in  money,  were 
forfeited  to  the  bishop,  as  lord  of  the 
manor;  but  his  lordship  humanely  ordered 
100Z.  of  the  money  to  be  put  to  interest 
for  the  benefit  of  the  wretch's  daughter ; 
20/.  to  be  given  to  his  aged  father,  and 
the  remainder  to  be  returned  to  the 
delinquent  himself.* 


THE  REGENT'S  PARK. 

A  correspondent's  muse  records  an  ac- 
commodation, which  may  be  extended  to 
other  resorts,  with  the  certainty  of  pro- 
ducing much  satisfaction  in  wearied 
pedestrians. 

CONGRATULATORY    VERSES    TO    THE    NEW 
SEATS     IN     THE     REGENTS-PARK,    1826 

versus  CHAIRS. 

I  covet  not  the  funeral  chair 

TV  Orlean  maid  was  burnt  in,  when 
Enthusiasts'  voices  rent  the  air 

To  clasp  their  Joan  of  Arc  again. 

I,  learned  Busby's  chair,  chuse  not,f 

Nor  of  a  boat  in  stormy  seas, 
Nor  on  a  bridge — the  stony  lot 

Of  travellers  not  afraid  to  freeze. 

I  covet  not  the  chair  of  state, 

Nor  that  St.  Peter's  papal  race 
Exalted  for  Pope  Joan  the  great, 

But  seek  and  find  an  easier  place. 

To  halls  and  abbeys  knights  repaired, 
And  barons  to  their  chairs  retired  ; 

The  goblet,  glove,  and  shield,  were  reared, 
As  war  and  love  their  cause  inspired. 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

T  Vide  Ewry-Day  Book,  No.  54,  vol.  ii. 


901 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  4. 


903 


Saint  Edward's  chair  the  minster  keeps, 
An  antique  chair  the  dutchess  bears;* 

The  invalid — he  hardly  sleeps, 

Though  poled  through  Bath  in  easy  chairs,  f 

The  chairs  St.  Jarces's-park  contains, 
The  chairs  at  Kew  and  Kensington, 

Have  rested  weary  hearts  and  brains 

That  charmed  the  town,  now  still  and  gone. 

I  covet  not  the  chair  of  guilt 

Macbeth  upbraided  for  its  ghost ; 

Nor  Gay's,  on  which  much  ink  was  spilt, 
When  he  wrote  fables  for  his  host. 

What  of  Dan  Lambert's  ? — Oberon's  chair  1 
Bunyan's  at  Bedford  ? — Johnson's  seat? 

Chaucer's  at  Woodstock  1 — Bloomfield's  bare  1 
Waxed,  lasting,  ended,  and  complete.}: 

Though  without  back,  and  sides,  and  arms, 
Thou,  REGENT'S  SEAT  !  art  doubly  dear  I 

Nature  appears  in  youthful  charms 
For  all  that  muse  and  travel  here. 

Canal,  church,  spire,  and  Primrose  hill, 
With  fowl  and  beast  and  chary  sound, 

Invite  the  thought  to  peace,  for  still 
Thou,  like  a  friend,  art  faithful  found. 

A  seat,  then,  patience  seems  to  teach, 
Untired  the  weary  limbs  it  bears ; 

To  all  that  can  its  comforts  reach, 

It  succours  through  the  round  of  years. 

Whatever  hand,  or  name,  is  writ 

In  pencil  on  thy  painted  face ; 
Let  not  one  word  of  ribald  wit 

Produce  a  blush,  or  man  disgrace. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  60  •  30. 


"  BUSBY'S  CHAIR." 

Talking  of  this — a  word  or  two  on 
"  Sedes  Busbeiana" 

The  humorous  representation  of  "  Dr. 
Busby's  chair,"  (on  p.  34  of  this  volume,) 
personifying  the  several  parts  of  gram- 
mar, as  well  as  some  of  a  schoolmaster's 
more  serious  occupation,  said  to  have 
been  from  an  original  by  sir  Peter  Lely, 
is  ascertained  by  the  editor  to  have  been 
a  mere  bagatelle  performance  of  a  young 
man  some  five-and-twenty  years  ago.  It 
was  engraved  and  published  for  Messrs. 
Laurie  and  Whittle,  in  Fleet-street,  took 
greatly  with  the  public,  and  had  "  a  con- 
siderable run." 


*  Sedan  chairs  were  first  introduced  into  England 
in  1634.  The  first  wr.s  nsed  by  the  duke  of  Bucking- 
bam,  to  the  indignation  of  the  people,  who  exclaim- 
ed, that  he  Kas  employing  his  fellow  creatures  to  do  the 
tenice  of  beasts. 

t  Query,— A  pun  on  Charing-cross.  Printer's  devil. 

t  Bloomfield,  poor  fellow,  declared  to  the  writer, 
that  one  of  his  shop  pleasures  was  that  of  the  shoe- 
maker's country  custom  of  waxing  his  customers  to 
tin  seat  of  St.  Crispin,  preparatory  to  the  serving  out 
the  pennyworth  of  the  oil  of  strap. 


TRANSLATION  OF  ST.  MARTIN. 

This  day  is  thus  noticed  as  a  festival 
in  the  church  of  England  calendar  and 
the  almanacs,  wherein  he  is  honoured 
with  another  festival  on  the  eleventh  of 
November. 

The  word  "  translation"  signifies,  in 
reference  to  saints,  as  most  readers  already 
know,  that  their  remains  were  removed 
from  the  graves  wherein  their  bodies  were 
deposited,  to  shrines  or  other  places  for 
devotional  purposes. 

FOR  THE  HONOUR  OF  HACKNEYMEN. 

"  Give  a  dog  an  ill  name  and  hang 
him"  —  give  hackney-coachmen  good  cha- 
racters and  you'll  be  laughed  at:  and  yet 
there  are  civil  coachmen  in  London,  and 
honest  ones  too.  Prejudice  against  this 
most  useful  class  of  persons  is  strong,  and 
it  is  only  fair  to  record  an  instance  of  in- 
tegrity which,  after  all,  is  as  general, 
perhaps,  among  hackney  men,  as  among 
those  who  ride  in  their  coaches. 

HONESTY  REWARDED.  —  A  circumstance 
took  place  on  Tuesday,  (July  4,  1826,) 
which  cannot  be  made  too  generally  known 
among  hackney-coachmen,  and  persons 
who  use  those  vehicles. 

A  gentleman  took  a  coach  in  St.  Paul's 
churchyard,  about  twenty  minutes  before 
twelve,  and  was  set  down  in  Westminster 
exactly  at  noon.  Having  transacted  his 
business  there,  he  was  proceeding  home- 
ward a  little  before  one,  when  he  suddenly 
missed  a  bank  note  for  three  hundred 
pounds,  which  he  had  in  his  pocket  on 
entering  the  coach.  He  had  not  observed 
either  the  number  or  date  of  the  note,  or 
the  number  of  the  coach.  He  therefore 
returned  to  the  bankers  in  the  city,  and 
ascertained  the  number  and  date  of  the 
note,  then  proceeded  to  the  bank  of  Eng- 
land, found  that  it  had  not  been  paid,  and 
took  measures  to  stop  its  payment,  if  pre- 
sented. After  some  further  inquiry,  he 
applied  about  half-past  three,  at  the  hack- 
ney-coach office,  in  Essex-street,  in  the 
Strand,  and  there  to  his  agreeable  surprise, 
he  found  that  the  coachman  had  already 
brought  the  note  to  the  commissioners,  at 
whose  suggestion  the  gentleman  paid  the 
coachman  a  reward  of  fifty  pounds.  The 


903 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  4. 


904 


name  of  the  honest  coachman  should  be 
known  :  it  is  John  Newell,  the  owner  and 
driver  of  the  coach  No.  314,  and  residing 
in  Marylebone-lane. 

It  should  also  be  known,  that  persons 
leaving  property  in  hackney-coaches,  may 
very  generally  recover  it  by  applying  with- 
out delay  at  the  office  in  Essex-street. 
Since  the  act  of  parliament  requiring 
hackney-coachmen  to  bring  such  articles 
to  the  office  came  into  effect,  which  is  not 
four  years  and  a  half  ago,  no  less  than 
one  thousand  and  fifty-eight  articles  have 
been  so  brought,  being  of  the  aggregate 
value  of  forty-five  thousand  pounds,  and 
upwards."* 

Descend  we  from  the  coach,  and,  leav- 
ing the  town,  take  a  turn  with  a  respected 
friend  whither  he  would  lead  us. 

FIELD  PATHS. 
(For  the  Every- Day  Book) 
I  love  our  real  old   English  footpaths. 
I  love  those  rustic  and  picturesque  stiles, 
opening  their  pleasant  escapes  from  fre- 
quented places,  and  dusty  highways,  into 
the  solitudes  of  nature.     It  is  delightful 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  one  on  the  village 
green,  under  the  old  elder-tree  by  some 
ancient  cottage,  or   half  hidden   by   the 
overhanging  boughs  of  a  wood.     I  love 
to  see  the  smooth  dry  track,  winding  away 
in  easy  curves,  along  some  green  slope,  to 
the  churchyard,  to  the  embosomed  cottage, 
or  to  the  forest  grange.     It  is  to  me  an 
object  of  certain   inspiration.     It   seems 
to  invite  one  from  noise  and  publicity, 
into  the  heart  of  solitude  and  of  rural  de- 
lights.    It  beckons  the  imagination  on, 
through  green  and  whispering  corn  fields, 
through  the  short  but  verdant  pasture ; 
the   flowery  mowing-grass ;  the   odorous 
and  sunny  hayfield  ;  the  festivity  of  har- 
vest ;  from   lovely    farm   to   farm  ;   from 
village   to   village;  by  clear   and    mossy 
wells ;    by    tinkling    brooks,   and    deep 
wood-skirted   streams;    to   crofts,    where 
the  daffodil  is  rejoicing  in  spring,  or  mea- 
dows,  where  the   large,   blue   geraneum 
embellishes    the    summer    wayside ;     to 
heaths,  with  their  warm,    elastic   sward 
and  crimson  bells,  the  chithering  of  grass- 
hoppers, the  foxglove,  and  the  old  gnarled 
oak  ;  in  short,  to  all   the   solitary  haunts, 
after  which  the  city-pent  lover  of  nature 
pants,  as   "  the  hart  panteth  after  the  wa- 
ter-brooks."     What    is    there    so   truly 

*  Daily  papers. 


English  ?      What  is  so  linked    with  our 
rural  tastes,  our  sweetest  memories,  and 
our   sweetest  poetry,  as   stiles  and   field- 
paths?     Goldsmith,  Thomson,  and  MiU 
tori  have  adorned  them  with  some  of  theit 
richest  wreaths.     They  have  consecrated 
them  to  poetry  and  love.     It  is  along  the 
footpath    in  secluded    fields, — upon    the 
stile  in  the  embowered  lane, — where  the 
wild-rose  and  the  honey-suckle  are  lavish- 
ing their  beauty  and  their  fragrance,  that 
we  delight  to  picture  to  ourselves   rural 
lovers,  breathing  in  the  dewy  sweetness  of 
a  summer    evening    vows    still    sweeter. 
It  is  there,   that  the  poet  seated,  sends 
back  his  soul  into   the   freshness  of  his 
youth,  amongst  attachments  since  withered 
by  neglect,  rendered  painful  by  absence, 
or  broken  by  death ;  amongst  dreams  and 
aspirations  which,  even    now   that   they 
pronounce  their  own  fallacy,  are  lovely. 
It  is  there  that  he  gazes  upon  the  gorgeous 
sunset, — the  evening  star  following  with 
silvery  lamp  the  fading  day,  or  the  moon 
showering   her   pale   lustre   through    the 
balmy  night  air,  with  a  fancy  that  kindles 
and  soars  into  the  heavens  before  him, 
— there,  that  we  have  all  felt  the  charm  of 
woods  and  green  fields,  and  solitary  boughs 
waving  in  the  golden  sunshine,  or  dark- 
ening in  the  melancholy  beauty  of  evening 
shadows.      Who    has   not   thought  how 
beautiful  was  the  sight  of  a  village  con- 
gregation pouring  out  from  their  old  grey 
church  on  a  summer  day,  and  streaming 
off  through  the  quiet  meadows,  in  all  di- 
rections, to  their  homes  ?     Or  who,  that 
has  visited  Alpine  scenery,  has  not  beheld 
with   a  poetic  feeling,  the  mountaineers 
come  winding  down  out  of  their  romantic 
seclusions  on  a  sabbath  morning,  pacing 
the  solitary  heath-tracks,  bounding  with 
elastic  step  down  the  fern-clad  dells,  or 
along  the  course  of  a  riotous  stream,  as 
cheerful,  as  picturesque,  and  yet  as  solemn 
as  the  scenes  around  them  ? 

Again  I  say,  I  love  field  paths,  and 
stiles  of  all  species, — ay,  even  the  most 
inaccessible  piece  of  mstic  erection  ever 
set  up  in  defiance  of  age,  laziness,  and 
obesity.  How  many  scenes  of  frolic  and 
merry  confusion  have  I  seen  at  a  clumsy 
stile  !  What  exclamations,  and  charming 
blushes,  and  fine  eventual  vaulting  on  the 
part  of  the  ladies,  and  what  an  opportunity 
does  it  afford  to  beaux  of  exhibiting  a 
variety  of  gallant  and  delicate  attentions 
I  consider  a  rude  stile  as  any  thing  but 
an  impediment  in.  the  course  of  a  rural 
courtship. 


905 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  4. 


900 


Those  good  old  turn-stiles  too, — can  I 
ever  forget  them  ?  the  hours  I  have  spun 
round  upon  them,  when  a  boy  ;  or  those 
in  which  I  have  almost  laughed  myself 
to  death  at  the  remembrance  of  my  village 
pedagogue's  disaster !  Methinks  I  see 
him  now.  The  time  a  sultry  day  ; — the 
domine  a  goodly  person  of  some  eighteen 
or  twenty  stone ; — the  scene  a  footpath 
sentinelled  with  turn-stiles,  ore  of  which 
held  him  fast,  as  in  utter  amazement  at 
his  bulk.  Never  shall  I  forget  his  efforts 
and  agonies  to  extricate  himself,  nor  his 
lion-like  roars,  which  brought  some  la- 
bourers to  his  assistance,  who,  when  they 
had  recovered  from  their  convulsions  of 
laughter,  knocked  off  the  top,  and  let 
him  go.  It  is  long  since  I  saw  a  turnstile, 
and  I  suspect  the  Falstaffs  have  cried 
them  down.  But,  without  a  jest,  stiles 
and  field  paths  are  vanishing  every  where. 
There  is  nothing  upon  which  the  advance 
of  wealth  and  population  has  made  so 
serious  an  inroad.  As  land  has  increased 
in  value,  wastes  and  heaths  have  been 
parcelled  out  and  enclosed,  but  seldom 
have  footpaths  been  left.  The  poet 
and  the  naturalist,  who  before  had, 
perhaps,  the  greatest  real  property  in 
them,  have  had  no  allotment.  They  have 
been  totally  driven  out  of  the  promised 
land.  Nor  is  this  all.  Goldsmith  com- 
plained, in  his  day,  that — 

"  The  man  of  wealth  and  pride 
Takes  up  a  space  that  many  poor  supplied  ; 
Space  for  his  lake,  his  park's  extended  bounds, 
Space  for  his  horses,  equipage,  and  hounds ; 
The  robe,  that  wraps  his  limbs  in  silken  sloth, 
Has  robbed  the  neighbouring  fields  of  half  their 

growth ; 

His  seat,  where  solitary  sports  are  seen, 
Indignant  spurns  the  cottage  from  the  green." 

And  it  is  but  too  true  that  "  the  pressure 
of  contiguous  pride"  has  driven  farther 
and  farther,  from  that  day  to  this,  the 
public  from  the  rich  man's  lands.  ''They 
make  a  solitude  and  call  it  peace."  Even 
the  quiet  and  picturesque  footpath  that 
led  across  his  lawn,  or  stole  along  his 
wood-side,  giving  to  the  poor  man,  with 
his  burden,  a  cooler  and  a  nearer  cut  to 
the  village,  is  become  a  nuisance.  One 
would  have  thought  that  the  rustic  la- 
Dourer  with  his  scythe  on  his  shoulder, 
or  his  bill-hook  and  hedging  mittens  in 
nis  hand,  the  cottage  dame  in  her  black 
bonnet  and  scarlet  cloak,  the  bonny  village 
maiden  in  the  sweetness  of  health  and 
simplicity,  or  the  boy  strolling  along  full 
of  life  and  curiosity,  might  have  had  suf- 
ficient interest,  in  themselves,  for  a  culti- 


vated taste,  passing  occasionally  at  a 
distance  across  the  park  or  lawn  not  only 
to  be  tolerated,  but  even  to  be  welcomed 
as  objects  agreeably  enlivening  the  stately 
solitude  of  the  hall.  But  they  have  not. 
And  what  is  more,  they  are  commonly 
the  most  jealous  of  pedestrian  trespassers 
who  seldom  visit  their  own  estates,  but 
permit  the  seasons  to  scatter  their  charms 
around  their  villas  and  rural  possessions 
without  the  heart  to  enjoy,  or  even  the 
presence  to  behold  them.  How  often 
have  I  myself  been  arrested  in  some  long- 
frequented  dale,  in  some  spot  endeared 
by  its  own  beauties  and  the  fascinations 
of  memory,  by  a  board,  exhibiting,  in 
giant  characters,  Stopped  by  an  order  of 
Sessions !  and  denouncing  the  terms  of 
the  law  upon  trespassers.  This  is  a  little 
too  much.  I  would  not  be  querulous  for 
the  poor  against  the  rich.  I  would  not 
teach  them  to  look  with  an  envious  and 
covetous  eye  upon  their  villas,  lawns,  cattle, 
and  equipage;  but  when  the  path  of 
immemorial  usage  is  closed,  when  the 
little  streak,  almost  as  fine  as  a  mathema- 
tical line,  along  the  wealthy  man's  ample 
field,  is  grudgingly  erased,  it  is  impossible 
not  to  feel  indignation  at  the  pitiful  mo- 
nopoly. Is  there  no  village  champion  to 
be  found  bold  enough  to  put  in  hi? 
protest  against  these  encroachments,  to 
assert  this  public  right — for  a  right  it  is, 
as  authentic  as  that  by  which  the  land 
itself  is  held,  and  as  clearly  acknowledged 
by  the  laws  ?  Is  there  no  local  "  Hampden 
with  dauntless  breast"  to  "  withstand  the 
little  tyrant  of  the  fields,"  and  to  save 
our  good  old  fieldpaths?  If  not,  we  shall, 
in  a  few  years,  be  doomed  to  the  high- 
ways and  the  hedges  :  to  look,  like  Dives, 
from  a  sultry  region  of  turnpikes,  into  a 
pleasant  one  of  verdure  and  foliage  which 
we  may  not  approach.  Already  the 
stranger,  if  he  lose  his  way,  is  in  jeo- 
pardy of  falling  into  the  horrid  fangs  of  a 
steel- trap;  the  botanist  enters  a  wood  to 
gather  a  flower,  and  is  shot  with  a  spring- 
gun  ;  death  haunts  our  dells  and  copses, 
and  the  poet  complains,  in  regretful  notes, 
that  he — 

"  Wanders  away  to  field  and  glen 
Far  as  he  may  for  the  gentlemen." 
I  am  not  so  much  of  a  poet,  and  so  little 
of  a  political  economist,  as  to  lament  over 
the  progress  of  population.      It  is  true 
that  I  see,  with  a  poetical  regret,   green 
fields  and  beautiful  fresh  tracts  swallowed 
up  in  cities ;  but  my  joy  in   the  increase 
of    human    life   and    happiness    far   out- 
balances that  imaginative  pain.     But  it  is 


907 

when  I  see  unnecessary  and  arbitrary 
encroachments  upon  the  rural  privileges 
of  the  public  that  I  grieve.  Exactly  in 
the  same  proportion  as  our  population 
and  commercial  habits  gain  upon  us,  do 
we  need  all  possible  opportunities  to  keep 
alive  in  us  the  spirit  of  nature. 

"  The  world  is  too  much  with  us,  late  and  soon 
Getting  and  spending;  we  lay  waste  our 

powers, 
Little  there  is  in  nature  that  is  ours." 

Wordirworth. 

We  give  ourselves  up  to  the  •  artificial 
habits  and  objects  of  ambition,  till  we 
endanger  the  higher  and  better  feelings 
and  capacities  of  our  being;  and  it  is 
alone  to  the  united  influence  of  religion, 
literature,  and  nature,  that  we  must  look 
for  the  preservation  of  our  moral  nobility. 
Whenever,  therefore,  I  behold  one  of  our 
old  field  paths  closed,  I  regard  it  as  another 
link  in  the  chain  which  Mammon  is 
winding  around  us, — another  avenue  cut 
off  by  which  we  might  fly  to  the  lofty 
sanctuary  of  nature  for  power  to  withstand 
him.  H. 


BELLS  AND  BELL  RINGING  AT  BURY 
ST.  EDMUND'S. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book, 

Lambeth,  July  13,  1826. 
My  dear  Sir, — To  your  late  interesting 
notices  of  «  Bells"  and  «  Bell- ringing," 
the  following  singular  letter,  which  ap- 
pears in  a  Suffolk  paper,  may  be  added. 
I  happen  to  know  something  of  this 
"  jangling ;"  and  when  I  resided  in  the 
town  of  Bury  St.  Edmund's  some  years 
back,  was  compelled  to  listen  to  "  the 
most  hideous  noise"  of  St.  James's  lofty 
opponents.  But  u  who  shall  decide 
when  doctors  disagree?" — Why,  Mr. 
Editor, — we  will.  It  is  a  hardship,  a 
cruelty,  a  usurpation,  a  "  tale  of  woe." 
Listen  to  St.  James's  statement,  and 
then  let  us  raise  our  bells,  and  ring  a 
"  righte  sounde  and  merie"  peal,  such  as 
will  almost  "  split  the  ears  of  the  ground- 
lings."— 

"  To  the  Editor  of  the  Bury  Post. 

"  Sir, — Since  we  have  been  repeatedly 
asked  why  St.  James's  ringers  lost  the 
privilege  of  ringing  in  St.  Mary's  steeple, 
as  far  as  it  lies  in  our  power  we  will 
answer  it.  Ever  since  the  year  1714,  up 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  4. 


908 


to  the  period  of  1813,  the  ringing  in  this 
town  was  conducted  by  one  company 
only,  who  had  the  liberty  of  ringing  at 
both  steeples ;  and  in  St.  Mary's  steeple 
there  are  recorded  two  peals  rung  by  the 
Bury  company,  one  of  which  was  rung 
in  1779,  and  the  other  in  1799.  In  1813, 
the  bells  of  St.  Mary's  wanting  some 
repairs,  the  ringers  applied  to  the  church- 
wardens, and  they  having  declined  doing 
any  thing  to  them,  the  ringers  ceased 
from  ringing  altogether  until  the  bells 
were  repaired.  At  length  an  offer  was 
made  to  the  churchwardens  to  raise  a 
young  company,  which  offer  was  ac- 
cepted by  them,  and  the  bells  were  par- 
tially  repaired.  In  consequence  of  which 
a  company  was  raised,  and  a  part  of  it 
consisted  of  old  men  who  were  incapable 
of  learning  to  ring;  youth  being  the  only 
time  when  such  an  art  can  be  acquired. 
It  was  agreed  that  when  this  company 
could  ring  one  course  of  eight  (or  112 
changes),  that  each  one  should  receive 
one  pound,  which  they  have  never  asked 
for,  well  knowing  they  were  never  en- 
titled to  it ;  at  the  same  time,  it  appears 
evident  that  the  parish  consented  they 
should  learn  to  ring.  In  1817,  only  two 
years  and  a  half  after  the  company  was 
raised,  three  bells  were  obliged  to  be 
rehung,  at  nearly  twenty  pounds'  ex- 
pense. Taking  an  account  of  the  annual 
repairs  of  the  bells,  and  the  repairs  in 
1814,  the  three  years  of  sixteen -change 
ringers  cost  the  parish  nearly  thirty 
pounds,  which  would  have  rehung  the 
whole  peal,  being  a  deal  more  than  what 
the  old  ringers  would  have  caused  them 
to  be  repaired  for  in  1814.  We,  the 
present  company  of  St.  James's  ringers, 
are  well  aware  that  St.  Mary's  company 
had  the  offer  to  learn  to  ring  in  Sep- 
tember, 1814,  which  we  made  no  oppo- 
sition to ;  and  if  St.  Mary's  had  learnt, 
we  would  have  gladly  taken  them  by  the 
hand  as  brother  ringers  ;  but  after  twelve 
years'  arduous  struggle  in  endeavouring 
to  learn  to  ring,  they  are  no  forwarder 
than  the  first  week  they  began.  They 
could  only  then  ring  (no  more  than  they 
can  now)  sixteen  changes,  and  that 
very  imperfectly,  being  but  a  very  small 
part  of  the  whole  revolution  of  changes 
on  eight  bells,  which  consist  of  40,320. 
We,  St.  James's  ringers,  or  '  old  ringers/ 
as  we  have  been  commonly  called,  often 
get  blamed  for  the  most  hideous  noise 
made  in  St.  Mary's  steeple ;  and  after 
the  jangling  of  the  bells,  miscalled  ring^ 
ing,  which  they  afforded  the  other 


909 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  5. 


910 


evening,  we  indulge  in  the  hope  that  our 
future  use  of  the  steeple  will  be  generally 
allowed. 

"  We  are,  Sir,  most  gratefully, 
"  Your  humble  servants, 
"  ST.  JAMES'S  RINGERS." 

Ah !  much  respected  "  St.  James's 
company,"  do  "  indulge  the  hope"  of 
making  St.  Mary's  bells  speak  eloquently 
again.  If  my  pen  can  avail,  you  shall 
soon  pull  "  Old  Tom's"  tail  in  that  steeple; 
and  all  his  sons,  daughters,  and  kindred 
around  him,  shall  lift  up  their  voices  in 
well-tuned  chorus,  and  sing  "  hallelujahs" 
of  returning  joy.  "  Those  evening  bells, 
those  evening  bells,"  which  used  to  frighten 
all  the  dogs  and  old  women  in  the  parish, 
and  which  used  to  make  me  wish  were 
suspended  round  the  ringers'  necks,  shall 
utter  sweet  music  and  respond  delightedly 
to  lovers'  vows  and  tales  whispered  in 
shady  lanes  and  groves,  in  the  vicinity  of 
your  beautiful  town.  You,  worthy  old 
bellmen,  who  have  discoursed  so  rapidly 
on  the  marriages  of  my  father,  and  uncle, 
and  cousin,  and  friend,  and  acquaintance, 
who  would  have  (for  a  guinea  !)  paid  the 
same  compliment  to  myself,  (although  I 
was  wedded  in  a  distant  land,  and  like  a 
hero  of  romance  and  true  knight-errant, 
claimed  my  fair  bride,  without  consulting 
"  father  or  mother,  sister  or  brother,")  and 
made  yourselves  as  merry  at  my  expense, 
as  my  pleasantest  friends  or  bitterest 
enemies  could  have  wished,  had  I  hinted 
such  a  thing  ! 

Oh  !  respectable  churchwardens — dis- 
charge the  "young  company,"  who  chant 
unfeelingly  and  unprofitably.  Remem- 
ber the  "  old  ringers  !" 

"  Pity  the  sorrows  of  the  poor  old  men." 

Respect  talent — consider  their  virtues — 
patronise  that  art  which  "  can  only  be 
attained  when  young" — and  which  the 
**  young  company"  cannot  attain— (does 
this  mean  they  are  stupid  ?) — and  console 
the  "old  ringers/'and  let  them  pull  on  un- 
til they  are  pulled  into  their  graves  !  Think 
how  they  have  moved  the  venerable  tower 
of  old  St.  James's  with  their  music* — nay, 
until  the  very  bricks  and  stones  above, 
wished  to  become  more  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  them  !  Do  not  let  a  stigma 


•  A  fevr  years  ago  it  was  unsafe  to  ring  the  ten 
bells  in  St.  James's  steeple.  It  lias  been  repaired— I 
*annot  say  its  fine  Saxon  architecture  either  beauti- 
fied or  improved. 


be  cast  upon  them — for,  should  the  good 
townVpeople  imagine  the  "  most  hideous 
noise"  was  caused  by  the  "  old  ringers," 
their  characters  are  gone  for  ever — they 
dare  not  even  look  at  you  through  a  sheet 
of  paper  !  How  "  many  a  time  and  oft" 
have  they  fired  their  feux  de  joie  on  the 
king's  birthday — how  many  thousand 
changes  pealed  for  the  alderman's  annual 
feast — how  many  "  tiddle-lol-tols"  played 
on  the  celebration  of  your  election — 
parish  dinners,  &c.  &c.  Then  think  of 
their  fine  —  half-minute — scientific — elo- 
quent "  tolls"  for  the  death  of  the  "  young 
— the  brave  — and  the  fair!"  Oh!  — 
respectable  gentlemen  in  office — "  think 
of  these  things." 

I  can  aver,  the  ringers  of  St.  Mary's  are 
only  to  be  equalled  in  the  variety  of  their 
tunes,  and  unaccountable  changes,by «'  the 
most  hideous  noise"  of  our  Waterloo-road 
bellmen.  I  suppose  they  are  a  "  young 
company."  I  can  only  say,  then,  I  wish 
they  were  old,  if  there  were  any  chance  of 
their  playing  in  tune  and  time. 

And  now,  farewell,  my  good  "  old 
ringers"  of  St.  James's.  I  have  done  all  I 
can  for  you,  and  will  say  there  is  as  much 
difference  between  your  ringing  and  the 
"  young  company"  at  St.  Mary's,  as  there 
is  between  the  fiddling  of  the  late  Billy 
Waters  and  Signer  Spagnoletti,  the  leader 
of  the  large  theatre  in  the  Haymarket ! 

Farewell !  May  you  have  possession  of 
St.  Mary's  steeple  by  the  time  you  see 
this  in  the  Every-Day  Book  ;  and  may  the 
first  merry  peal  be  given  in  honour  of  your 
considerate  and  faithful  townsman — 

S.  R. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  >  .  60  •  07 

Sulg  5. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  fifth  of  July,  1685,  the  duke  of 
Mon mouth's  enterprise  against  James 
Il.was  ended  by  the  battle  of  Sedgemoor, 
near  Bridgwater,  in  Somersetshire.  Th« 
duke's  army  consisting  of  native  followers 
attacked  the  king's  veteran  troops,  routed 
them,  and  would  finally  have  conquered, 
if  error  in  Monmouth  as  a  leader,  and 
the  cowardice  of  lord  Gray,  one  of  his 
commanders,  had  not  devoted  them  to 
defeat. 


911 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  5. 


91-2 


LETTER  OF 

©Itber  Cromtoeli 

Now  first  published. 

To  several  letters  of  distinguished  in- 
dividuals, first  brought  to  light  in  these 
sheets,  the  editor  is  enabled  to  add  another. 
If  the  character  of  the  writer,  and  the 
remarkable  event  he  communicates,  be 
considered  in  connection  with  the  autho- 
rity to  whom  the  letter  was  addressed,  it 
will  be  regarded  as  a  document  of  real 
importance. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

July  \,  1826. 

Sir, — I  had  intended  to  have  sent  you  this 
sommunication  in  time  for  insertion  under 
the  date  of  the  twenty-sixth  of  June,  which, 
according  to  the  New  Style,  corresponds 
with  the  fourteenth,  on  which  the  letter 
was  written,  a  copy  of  which  I  send : — it 
is  from  Oliver  Cromwell  to  the  Speaker 
Lenthall,  giving  an  account  of  the  battle 
of  Naseby. — It  was  presented  to  me  a 
great  many  years  ago  by  a  friend  in 
Northamptonshire,  and  is,  I  think,  an 
historical  curiosity. — I  make  no  comment 
on  its  style ;  it  speaks  for  itself. 

I  am,  &c. 

E.S  F. 

[COPY.] 
"  To  the  Honourable  W.  LENTHALL, 

"  Speaker  to  the  Commons  House  of  Par- 
liament. 
"  Sir, 

"  Being  Commanded  by  you  to  this 
Service,  I  think  myself  bound  to  acquaint 
you  with  the  good  hand  of  God  towards 
you  and  us :  We  marched  yesterday  after 
the  King,  who  went  before  us  from  Da- 
ventry  to  Haversbrowe,  and  quartered 
about  Six  Miles  from  him — he  drew  out 
to  meet  us — Both  armies  engag'd. — We, 
after  three  hours  fight — very  doubtful, — 
at  last  routed  his  army — kill'd  and  took 
about  5000— very  many  officers — but  of 
what  quality,  we  yet  know  not. — We 
took  also  about  200  Carag.  all  he  had — 
and  all  his  Guns  being  12  in  number — 
whereof  two  were  Demi  Culverins  and 
1  think  the  rest  Fasces — we  pursued  the 


Enemy  from  three  miles  short  of  Havers- 
browe to  nine  beyond — Ever  to  sight  of 
Leicester,  whither  the  King  fled. — Sir — 
this  is  none  other  but  the  hand  of  God :— - 
and  to  him  alone  belongs  the  Glory — 
wherein  none  are  to  share  with  him. — The 
General  served  you  with  all  faithfulness 
and  honor — and  the  best  recommendation 
I  can  give  of  him  is,  that  I  dare  say,  he 
attributes  all  to  God  and  would  rather 
perish  than  to  assume  to  himself,  which 
is  an  honest  and  thriving  way — Yet  as 
much  for  Bravery  must  be  given  him  in 
this  Action  as  to  a  man. — Honest  men 
served  you  faithfully  in  this  Action. — Sir, 
they  are  trusty — I  beseech  you,  in  the 
Name  of  God,  not  to  discourage  them.— 
I  wish  this  Action  may  beget  thankfulness 
and  Humility  in  all  that  are  concern'd  in 
it — He  that  ventures  his  Life  for  the  good 
of  his  Country — I  wish  he  trusts  God 
for  the  liberty  of  his  Conscience  and  you 
for  the  Liberty  he  fights  for.— In  this,  he 
rests  who  is  your  most  humble  Servant 
"  O.  Cromwell." 
"  Haversbrowe,  June  14,  1645." 


The  gentleman  who  possesses  Crom- 
well's original  letter  is  known  to  the 
editor,  who  thus  publicly  expresses  his 
thanks  to  him,  as  he  has  done  privately, 
for  having  communicated  so  valuable  an 
historical  document  to  the  public,  through 
the  Every-Day  Book* 


HERIOT'S  HOSPITAL, 
Edinburgh. 

With  the  particulars  respecting  tnis 
foundation  in  the  present  volume,  it  was 
intended  to  give  the  two  engravings  sub- 
joined. They  were  ready,  and  the  printer 
waited  for  them,  and  delayed  the  publi- 
cation an  entire  day,  while  the  engraver's 
messenger  carried  them  about  with  him, 
without  the  accompaniment  of  a  recollec- 
tion that  they  were  in  his  pocket,  until 
after  the  sheet  had  appeared  without 
them.  This  is  a  disclosure  of  one  of  the 
many  "  secret  sorrows  "  lately  endured  by 
the  editor,  who  begs  the  reader  to  bear  in 
mind  that  the  cuts  belong  to  col.  766. 


913 


THE  EVEIIY-DAY   BOOK.— JULY  5. 


914 


ARMS  OF  GEORGE  HERIOT. 

This   armorial   bearing   is    carved   on 
many  parts  of  the  edifice. 


The  present  fac-simile  of  his  signature, 
is  from  one  engraved  from  his  subscrip- 
tion to  an  "  acompt,"  in  his  "  Memoirs" 
before  quoted. 


SWAN-HOPPING  SEASON. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

June  24,  1826. 

Sir, — It  was  about  this  season  of  the 
year,  though  I  am  not  aware  of  any  pre- 
cise day  being  fixed  for  the  excursion, 
that  the  chief  magistrate  of  the  city,  in 
the  stately  barge,  attended  by  all  the 
"  pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance"  of 
flags,  gilding, and  music,  used,  when  1  was 
a  boy,  which  is  a  good  thirty  years  ago, 
to  proceed  up  the  river  Thames  as  far  as 
Staines,  and,  I  believe,  pour  a  glass  of 
wine,  or  perform  some  such  ceremony,  upon 
a  stone,  which,  standing  in  a  meadow  a 
short  distance  above  Staines-bridge,  marks 
the  city's  watery  jurisdiction.  The  cus- 
tom may,  for  aught  I  know  to  the  con- 
trary, be  still  continued,  though  I  suspect 
it  has  become  obsolete,  and  my  conjecture 
is  strengthened  by  not  observing  in  your 
Every-Day  Book  any  mention  of  this  civic 
excursion,  or  "  Swan-hopping,"  as  I  be- 
lieve it  was  called.  My  reason  for  re- 
viving the  memory  of  it  now,  is  to  intro- 
duce an  authentic  anecdote.  Your  invi- 
tations to  correspondents  have  been 


frequent ;  and  should  I  be  fortunate 
enough  to  assist  you  to  a  column  in  a 
way  that  will  be  gratifying  to  you  and 
your  numerous  readers,  I  shall  rejoice  in 
the  opportunity. 

I  am,  Sir,  8cc. 

N.  G 

City  Swan-hopping. 

The  following  curious  circumstance 
occurred,  several  years  ago,  at  a  tavern  in 
the  vicinity  cf  Putney-bridge.  Several 
members  of  one  of  the  city  companies 
having  accompanied  the  chief  magistrate 
on  an  excursion  up  the  river,  quitted  his 
lordship,  and  landed  at  the  house  in  ques- 
tion. A  boat  containing  a  party  of  six 
ladies,  elegantly  dressed,  and  rowed  by 
two  watermen,  in  scarlet  jackets,  put  in 
at  the  same  time. 

The  happy  citizens  relieved  from  the 
controul  of  their  dames,  could  not  resist 
this  opportunity  of  showing  their  gallantry 
and  politeness.  They  stepped  forward 
and  offered  their  aid  to  assist  the  ladies 
in  landing;  the  offer  was  accepted;  and 
this  act  of  civility  was  followed  by  others. 
They  walked,  talked,  and  laughed  toge- 
ther, till  dinner  was  announced.  The 
gentlemen  went  to  the  larger  room  ;  the 
ladies  sat  down  to  a  repast  laid  out  for 
them  by  their  order  in  a  smaller  one. 

After  some  time  the  ladies  again  re- 
turned to  the  lawn,  where  the  gentlemen 
occasionally  joined  them  and  continued 
their  civilities  lill  the  watermen  informed 
them  the  tide  served  for  their  return  to  town. 
The  gentlemen  then  assisted  the  ladies 
on  board,  and  wished  them  a  safe  voyage. 
Soon  after  they  called  for  their  bill,  which 
was  handed  to  the  chairman  in  due  form ; 
but  it  is  impossible  to  express  the  surprise 
which  marked  his  countenance  on  reading 
the  following  items: — "Dinner,  desert, 
wine,  tea,  &c.  for  the  ladies,  71.  \0s. ;" 
together  with  a  charge  of  twelve  shillings 
for  servants'  refreshments.  The  landlord 
was  sent  for  and  questioned  as  to  this 
charge,  who  said  the  ladies  had  desired 
the  bill  should  be  delivered  to  their 
spouses,  who  would  settle  it.  An  explan- 
ation now  took  place,  when  it  appeared 
the  parties  were  strangers  to  each  other ; 
for  these  sprightly  dames,  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  occasional  civilities  of  the 
gallant  and  unsuspecting  swan-hoppers, 
had  imposed  themselves  on  honest  Boni- 
face, nothing  loth  perhaps  to  be  imposed 
on,  as  the  wives  of  the  city  company,  and, 
as  such,  had  been  served  with  an  elegant 


915                             THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  5.                              916 

dinner,  desert,  wine,  &c.  which  they  had  ORIGINAL  POETRY. 

left  their  husbands  to  pay  for.     The  dis-  TQ  fhff  Editor  of  the  Every.Day  Book. 

covery  at  first  disconcerted  the  gentlemen, 

but  the   wine   they   had    drank  having  Sir, — The     following     beautiful    nnes 

opened  their  hearts  and  inspired    them  were  written  in  the  summer  of  the  year 

with  liberality,  they  took  the  trick   put  1808,  at  Sheffield,  and   have   not   been 

upon  them  in  good  part,  and  paid  the  published ;  as  they  are  no  mean  effusion, 

bill ;  and  the  recollection  of  the  wives  of  perhaps  they  will  not  disgrace  your  inter- 

the  city  company,  long  afterwards  afforded  esting  little  work. 

them  an  ample  subject  for  conversation  Believe  me,  Sir,  &c. 

and  laughter.  July  9,  1826.                           C.  T. 


THE  OAK  AND  THE  WILLOW. 

When  the  sun's  dazzling  brightness  oppresses  the  day, 
How  delightful  to  ramble  the  forests  among! 

And  thro'  the  arched  boughs  hung  with  woodbine  so  gay, 
To  view  the  rich  landscape,  to  hear  the  sweet  song ! 

And  lo !  where  the  charms  of  the  wild  woodland  vale, 

Expanding  in  beauty,  enrapture  the  sight ; 
Here  the  woods  in  dark  majesty  wave  in  the  gale, 

There  the  lawns  and  the  hills  are  all  blazing  in  light. 

From  yonder  high  rocks,  down  the  foaming  stream  rushes, 
Then  gleams  thro'  the  valley  overshadowed  with  trees, 

While  the  songsters  of  spring,  warbling  wild  from  the  bushes, 
With  exquisite  melody  charm  the  faint  breeze. 

The  peasant  boy  now  with  his  cattle  descends, 

Winding  slow  to  the  brook  down  the  mountain's  steep  tide; 
Where  the  larch  o'er  the  precipice  mournfully  bends, 

And  the  mountain-ash  waves  in  luxuriance  beside. 

And  mark  yonder  oak — 'tis  the  cliff's  nodding  crest, 
That  spreads  its  wide  branches  and  towers  sublime; 

The  morning's  first  glances  alight  on  its  breast, 

And  evening  there  spends  the  last  glimpse  of  her  time. 

But  hark !  the  storm  bursts,  and  the  raging  winds  sweep — 
See  the  lightning's  swift  flash  strikes  its  branches  all  bare  I 

E'en  the  leaves,  where  the  sunbeams  delighted  to  sleep, 
Are  scorched  in  the  blaze,  and  are  whirled  thro'  the  air. 

Yet  the  shrubs  in  the  vale  closely  sheltered  from  harm, 
Untouch'd  by  the  tempest,  scarce  whisper  a  sound ; 

While  the  mountains  reecho  the  thunder's  alarm, 
The  winds  are  restrained  by  the  rock's  massy  bound. 

Thus  the  rich  and  the  great  who  engross  fortune's  smiles, 
Feel  the  rankling  of  care  often  torture  their  rest, 

While  peace  all  the  toils  of  the  peasant  beguiles, 
Or  hope's  higher  raptures  awake  in  his  breast. 

- .  "  •. 

Then  mine  be  the  lot  of  the  willow  that  weeps, 
Unseen  in  the  glen  o'er  the  smooth  flowing  rill, 

'Mongst  whose  pensile  branches  the  flow'ret  creeps, 
And  the  strains  of  the  night-bird  the  ear  sweetly  thrill 


917  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  6. 

Some  nook  in  the  valley  of  life  shall  be  mine, 
Where  time  imperceptibly  swiftly  glides  by, 

True  friendship  and  love  round  my  heart  shall  entwine, 
And  sympathy  start  the  warm  tear  in  my  eye. 

Then  haply  my  wild  harp  will  make  such  sweet  notes, 
That  the  traveller  climbing  the  rock's  craggy  brow, 

May  stop  and  may  list,  as  the  music  still  floats, 
And  think  of  the  bard  in  the  valley  below. 


918 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  32. 

3ulp  6. 

OLD  MIDSUMMER  DAY. 
This  day  is  still  marked  in  our  alma- 
nacs, on  account  of  its  being  adhered  to, 
in  a  few  places,  as  a  "  gr  Dd  old  day," 
of  the  "  good  old  times." 

LAYING  OUT  OF  LANDS 
In  the  Parish  of  Puxton,  Somerset. 
The  subjoined  letter  was  duly  received 
according  to  its  date,  and  is  now  in  due 
time  inserted.  The  editor  has  very  few 
omissions  of  this  kind  to  apologize  for: 
if  he  has  prematurely,  and  therefore  un- 
duly, introduced  some  communications 
which  arrived  too  late  for  their  proper 
days,  he  may  be  excused,  perhaps,  in 
consideration  of  the  desire  expressed  by 
some  correspondents,  that  their  papers 
should  appear  in  a  "  reasonable"  time 
or  not  at  all.  Unhappily  he  has  expe- 
rienced the  mishap  of  a  "  reasonable" 
difference,  with  one  or  two  of  his  con- 
tributors. From  the  plan  of  this  work, 
certain  matters-of-fact  could  only  range, 
with  propriety,  under  certain  days ;  while 
it  has  been  conceived  of,  by  some,  as  a 
magazine  wherein  any  thing  could  come, 
at  any  time.  In  this  dilemma  he  has 
done  the  best  in  his  power,  and  intro- 
duced, in  a  few  instances,  papers  of  that 
nature  out  of  place.  On  two  or  three 
occasions,  indeed,  it  seemed  a  courtesy 
almost  demanded  by  the  value  of  such 
articles,  that  they  should  not  await  the 
rotation  of  the  year.  The  following  cu- 
riously descriptive  account  of  a  remarkable 
local  custom  is  from  a  Somersetshire 
gentleman,  who  could  be  relied  on  for  a 
patient  endurance  of  nine  months,  till  this, 
its  due  season  arrived. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book. 
Bristol,  October  19,  1825. 
3ir. — Having  observed  in  your  Every- 


Day  Book,  p.  837,  vol  i.  mention  of  an 
ancient  custom  of  dividing  lands,  which 
formerly  took  place  on  the  Saturday  be- 
fore old  midsummer-day,  in  the  parish 
of  Puxton,  in  Somersetshire,  (taken  from 
Mr.  Collinson's  history  of  that  county,)  I 
now  send  you  a  more  explicit  and  en- 
larged account,  with  the  marks  as  they 
were  cut  in  each  person's  allotment. 

The  two  large  pieces  of  common  land 
called  Dolemoors,  which  lie  in  the  parishes 
of  Congresbury,  Week  St.  Lawrence  and 
Puxton,  were  allotted  in  the  following 
manner.  On  the  Saturday  preceding 
midsummer-day  O.  S.  the  several  proprie- 
tors (of  the  estates  having  any  right  in 
those  moors)  or  their  tenants,  were  sum- 
moned at  a  certain  hour  in  the  morning, 
by  the  ringing  of  one  of  the  bells  at  Pux- 
ton, to  repair  to  the  church,  in  order  to 
see  the  chain  (kept  for  the  purpose  ot 
laying  out  Dolemoors)  measured.  The 
proper  length  of  such  chain  was  ascer- 
tained by  placing  one  end  thereof  at  the 
foot  of  the  arch,  dividing  the  chancel  from 
the  body  of  the  church,  and  extending  it 
through  the  middle  aisle,  to  the  foot  of 
the  arch  of  the  west  door  under  the  tower, 
at  each  of  which  places  marks  were  cut 
in  the  stones  for  that  purpose.  The 
chain  used  for  this  purpose  was  only 
eighteen  yards  in  length,  consequently 
four  yards  shorter  than  the  regular  land- 
measuring  chain.  After  the  chain  had 
been  properly  measured,  the  parties  re- 
paired to  the  commons.  Twenty-four 
apples  were  previously  prepared,  bearing 
the  following  marks,  viz.  Five  marks 
called  "  Pole-axes,"  four  ditto  "  Crosses," 
two  ditto  "  Dung-forks,  or  Dung-pikes," 
one  mark  called  "  Four  Oxen  and  a  Mare," 
one  ditto  "  Two  Pits,"  one  ditto  "  Three 
Pits,"  one  ditto  "  Four  Pits,"  one  ditto 
"  Five  Pits,"  one  ditto  "  Seven  Pits," 
one  "  Horn,"  one  "  Hare's-tail,"  one 
" Duck's-nest,"  one" Oven,"  one  "  Shell," 
one  "  Evil"  and  one  "  Hand-reel." 

It  is  necessary  to  observe  that  each  of 
these  moors  was  divided  into  several 


919 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  6. 


920 


portions  called  furlongs,  which  were 
marked  out  by  strong  oak  posts,  placed 
at  regular  distances  from  each  other ; 
which  posts  were  constantly  kept  up. 
After  the  apples  were  properly  prepared, 
they  were  put  into  a  hat  or  bag,  and  cer- 
tain persons  fixed  on  for  the  purpose, 
began  to  measure  with  the  chain  before- 
mentioned,  and  proceeded  till  they  had 
measured  off  one  acre  of  ground ;  at  the 
end  of  which,  the  boy  who  carried  the  hat 
or  bag  containing  the  marks  took  out 
one  of  the  apples,  and  the  mark  which 
such  apple  bore,  was  immediately  cut  in 
the  turf  with  a  large  knife  kept  for  that 
purpose  :  this  knife  was  somewhat  in  the 
shape  of  a  scimetar  with  its  edge  reversed. 
In  this  manner  they  proceeded  till  -the 
whole  of  the  commons  were  laid  out,  and 
each  proprietor  knowing  the  mark  and 
furlong  which  belonged  to  his  estate,  he 
took  possession  of  his  allotment  or  allot- 
ments accordingly,  for  the  ensuing  year. 
An  adjournment  then  took  place  to  the 
house  of  one  of  the  overseers,  where  a 
certain  number  of  acres  reserved  for  the 
purpose  of  paying  expenses,  and  called 
the  "out-let  or  out-drift,"  were  let  by 
inch  of  candle. 

During  the  time  of  letting,  the  whole 
party  were  to  keep  silence,  (except  the 
person  who  bid,)  under  the  penalty  of  one 
shilling.  When  any  one  wished  to  bid, 
he  named  the  price  he  would  give,  and 
immediately  deposited  a  shilling  on  the 
table  where  the  candle  stood ;  the  next 
who  bid,  also  named  his  price  and  depo- 
sited his  shilling  in  like  manner,  and  the 
person  who  first  bid  was  then  to  take  up 
nis  shilling.  The  business  of  letting  thus 
proceeded  till  the  candle  was  burnt  out, 
and  the  last  bidder,  prior  to  that  event,  was 
declared  the  tenant  of  the  out-let,  or  out- 
drift,  for  the  ensuing  year. 

Two  overseers  were  annually  elected 
from  the  proprietors  or  their  tenants.  A 
quantity  of  strong  ale  or  brown-stout  was 
allowed  for  the  feast,  or  "  revel,"  as  it 
was  called  ;  also  bread,  butter  and  cheese, 
together  with  pipes  and  tobacco,  of  which 
any  reputable  person,  whose  curiosity  or 
casual  business  led  him  to  Puxton  on  that 
day,  was  at  liberty  to  partake,  but  he  was 
expected  to  deposit  at  his  departure  one 
shilling  with  the  overseer,  by  way  of 
forfeit  for  his  intrusion.  The  day  was 
generally  spent  in  sociality  and  mirth, 
frequently  of  a  boisterous  nature,  from  the 
exhilarating  effects  of  the  brown-stout 
befoie  alluded  to;  for  it  rarely  happened 


but  that  some  of  the  junior  part  of  the 
company  were  desirous  of  making  a  tria. 
of  their  skill  in  the  sublime  art  of  pugilism, 
when  hard  knocks,  thumps,  bangs,  ana 
kicks,  and  consequently  black  eyes,  bloody 
noses,  and  sore  bones,  were  distributed 
with  the  greatest  liberality  amongst  the 
combatants. 

"  And  now  the  field  of  Death,  the  lists 
Are  enter'd  by  antagonists." 

In  this  stage  of  the  business,  some  ve- 
nerable yeoman  usually  stepped  forward 
and  harangued  the  contending  parties,  in 
some  such  speech  as  the  following,  which 
I  am  sorry  to  say  was  most  commonly 
thrown  away  upon  these  pot-valiant 
champions  :— 

"  What  rage,  O  friends  !  what  fury 
Doth  you  to  these  dire  actions  hurry  ? 
What  towns,  what  garrisons  might  you, 
With  hazard  of  this  blood  subdue, 
Which  now  y'are  bent  to  throw  away 
In  vain  untnumphable  fray1?" 

Yet  after  these  civil  broils,  the  parties 
seldom  bore  each  other  any  grudge  or  ill- 
will,  and  generally  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  contest, 

"  Tho*  sorely  bruis'd,  their  limbs  all  o'er 
With  ruthless  bangs  still  stiff  and  sore," 

they  shook  hands,  became  good  friends 
again,  and  departed  with  the  greatest 
sang-froid  to  apply 

"  Fit  med'cines  to  each  glorious  bruise 
They  got  in  fight,  reds,  blacks,  and  blues ; 
To  mollify  th*  uneasy  pang 
Of  ev'ry  honourable  bang." 

In  the  year  1779,  an  attempt  was  made 
to  procure  an  act  of  parliament  for  allot- 
ting these  moors  in  perpetuity ;  but  an 
opposition  having  been  made  by  a  majo- 
rity of  the  proprietors,  the  plan  was  re- 
linquished. I  have  now  by  me  a  printed 
copy  of  the  bill  drawn  up  on  that  oc- 
casion. The  land,  however,  was  actually 
enclosed  and  allotted  in  the  year  1811,  and 
the  ancient  mode  of  dividing  it,  and  con- 
sequently the  drunken  festival,  or  revel, 
from  that  time  discontinued. 

The  following  marks  are  correct  deli- 
neations of  those  used,  being  taken  from 
the  originals  in  the  book  appropriated 
for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  accounts 
of  this  very  singular  and  ancient  usage 


921 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  6; 


922 


Cfee  ;$larfes  for  allotting 


Pole-axe  .... 

Cross 

Dung-fork,  or  pike 

Four  Oxen  &  a  Mare 
Two  Pits  . 

Three  Pits     .     .     . 

Four  Pits  .  .  . 
Five  Pits  .  .  . 
Seven  Pits  .  .  . 
Horn 

Hare's-tail  .  .  . 
Duck's-nest  . 


Oven 
Shell 


Evil 

Hand-reel 


No.  of 
each. 


A— d  B tt  Belt. 


I  have  from  my  youth  lived  within  a 
few  miles  of  the  place  mentioned,  and 
have  often  heard  of  the  "  humours  of 
Dolmoor  revel,"  and  on  one  occasion 
attended  personally  the  whole  day  for  the 
purpose  of  observing  them,  and  ascertain- 
ing the  customs  of  this  rude,  rural  festival. 
As  the  customs  before-mentioned  are  now 
become  obsolete,  it  would  be  pleasing  to 


many  of  your  readers,  to  see  them  re- 
corded in  your  very  interesting  and  popu- 
lar work.  These  customs  originated  in 
all  probability  with  our  Saxon  ances- 
tors, and  it  would  be  unpardonable  to 
consign  them  to  total  oblivion. 
I  am,  Sir, 

Yours  respec-ffuUy 

G.B 


923 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK—JULY  6. 


924 


After  this  description  of  the  method  of 
'*  laying  out  of  lands,"  at  a  period  of  the 
year   when    steam  boats   are  conveying 
visitors  to  the  "  watering  places   on   the 
Thames,"  it  seems  prudent  and  season- 
able to  notice  another  custom — 
LAYING  OUT  OF  WIVES 
In  the  Fens  of  Essex  and  Kent. 

And,  first,  as  to  this  "  grave  "  custom 
on  the  London  side  of  the  Thames,  we 
have  the  epistolary  testimony  of  a  writer 
in  the  year  1773,  viz. — 

Sir, — Nothing  but  that  unaccountable 
variety  of  life,  which  my  stars  have  im- 
posed upon  me,  could  have  apologised 
fcr  my  taking  a  journey  to  the  fens  of 
Essex.  Few  strangers  go  into  those 
scenes  of  desolation,  and  fewer  still  (I 
find)  return  from  thence — as  you  shall 
hear. 

When  I  was  walking  one  morning  be- 
tween two  of  the  banks  which  restrain  the 
waters  in  their  proper  bounds,  I  met  one 
of  the  inhabitants,  a  tall  and  emaciated 
figure,  with  whom  I  entered  into  conver- 
sation. We  talked  concerning  the  man- 
ners and  peculiarities  of  the  place,  and  I 
condoled  with  him  very  pathetically  on 
his  forlorn  and  meagre  appearance.  He 
gave  me  to  understand,  however,  that  his 
case  was  far  from  being  so  desperate  as  I 
seemed  to  apprehend  it,  for  that  he  had 
never  looked  better  since  he  buried  the 
first  of  his  last  nine  wives. 

"  Nine  wives  !"  rejoined  I,  eager  and 
astonished,  "  have  you  buried  nine  wives  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  fen-man,  "  and  I 
hope  to  bury  nine  more." 

"  Bravissimo  !" — This  was  so  far  frorr, 
allaying  my  astonishment,  that  it  increased 
it.  I  then  begged  him  to  explain  the 
miraculous  matter,  which  he  did  in  the 
following  words : — 

"  Lord  !  master,"  said  he,  "  we  people 
in  the  fens  here  be  such  strange  creatures, 
that  there  be  no  creatures  like  us ;  we  be 
like  fish,  or  water-fowl,  or  others,  for  wo 
be  able  to  live  where  other  folks  would  die 
sure  enough." 

He  then  informed  me,  that  to  reside  in 
the  fens  was  a  certain  and  quick  death  to 
people  who  had  not  been  bred  among 
them;  that  therefore  when  any  of  the 
fen-men  wanted  a  wife,  they  went  into 
the  upland  country  for  one,  and  that, 
after  they  carried  her  down  among  the 
fens,  she  never  survived  long  :  that  after 
her  death  they  went  to  the  uplands  for 
another,  who  also  died;  then  "  another,and 


another,  and  another,"  for  they  all  followed 
each  other  as  regular  as  the  change  of  the 
moon  ;  that  by  these  means  some  "  poor 
fellows"  had  picked  up  a  good  living, 
and  collected  together  from  the  whole  a 
little  snug  fortune  ;  that  he  himself  had 
made  more  money  this  way  than  he  ever 
could  do  by  his  labour,  for  that  he  was 
now  at  his  tenth  wife,  and  she  could 
not  possibly  stand  it  out  above  three 
weeks  longer ;  that  these  proceedings  were 
very  equitable,  for  such  girls  as  were  born 
among  themselves  they  sent  into  the  up- 
lands to  get  husbands,  and  that,  in  ex- 
change, they  took  their  young  women  as 
wives  ;  that  he  never  knew  a  better  cnstom 
in  his  life,  and  that  the  only  comfort  he 
ever  found  against  the  ill-nature  and  ca- 
price of  women  was  the  fens.  This 
woman-killer  then  concluded  with  desiring 
me,  if  I  had  a  wife  with  whom  I  was  not 
over  head  and  ears  in  love,  to  bring  her 
to  his  house,  and  it  would  kill  her  as 
effectually  as  any  doctor  in  Christendom 
could  do.  This  offer  I  waved ;  for  you 
know,  sir,  that  (thank  God)  I  am  not 
married. 

This  strange  conversation  of  my  friend, 
the  fen-man,  I  could  not  pass  over  without 
many  reflections ;  and  1  thought  it  my 
duty  to  give  notice  to  my  countrymen 
concerning  a  place  which  may  be  con- 
verted in  so  peculiar  a  manner  to  their 
advantage.* 

So  far  is  from  the  narrative  of  a  travel- 
ler into  Essex,  who,  be  it  observed, 
*'  speaks  for  himself,"  and  whose  account 
is  given  "  without  note  or  comment ;"  it 
being  certain  that  every  rightly  affected 
reader  will  form  a  correct  opinion  of  such 
a  narrator,  and  of  the  "  fearful  estate"  of 
"  upland  women"  who  marry  "  lowland 
men." 

As  regards  the  "  custom  of  Kent,"  in 
this  matter,  we  have  the  account  of  a 
"  Steam-boat  Companion,"  who,  turning 
"  to  the  Kentish  shore,"  says  thus  : — 

YEN  LET  CREEK 

Divides  the  isle  of  Grean  from  All- 
hallows,  on  the  main  land,  and  from  the 
cliff  marshes. 

Who  would  believe  while  beholding 
these  scenes  of  pleasure  before  us,  that  for 
six  months  in  the  year  the  shores  of  this 
hundred  (Hoo)  were  only  to  be  explored 
by  the  amphibious  ;  that  the  sun  is  sel- 

*  Universal  Magazine. 


925 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  6. 


926 


dom  seen  for  the  fog,  and  that  every  crea- 
ture in  love  with  life,  flies  the  swamps  of 
Hoo,  preferring  any  station  to  its  ague 
dealing  vapours,  its  fenny  filth,  and  muddy 
flats ;  a  station,  that  during  the  winter 
season  is  destitute  of  every  comfort,  but 
fine  eels,  luscious  flounders,  smuggled 
brandy,  Holland's  gin,  and  sea-coal  fire. 
We  will  here  relate  a  whimsical  circum- 
stance that  once  took  place  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood while  we  were  of  the  party. 

It  was  at  that  time  of  the  year  when  nature 
seems  to  sicken  at  her  own  infirmities,  we 
think  it  was  in  the  month  of  November, 
we  were  bound  to  Sheerness,  but  the  fog 
coming  on  so  gloomily  that  no  man  could 
discover  his  hand  a  yard  before  him,  our 
waterman,  whether  by  design  or  accident 
we  cannot  pretend  to  say,  mistook  the 
Thames,  and  rowed  up  the  Yenlet  creek. 
After  a  long,  cold,  and  stubborn  pull,  pro- 
testing at  the  time  he  had  never  (man  or 
boy)  seen  any  thing  so  dismal,  he  landed 
us  near  Saint  Mary's,  that  church 
yonder,  with  the  very  lofty  and  white 
spire,  and  then  led  us  to  an  alehouse, 
the  sign  of  which  he  called  the  Red  Cock 
and  Cucumber,  and  the  aleman  he  hailed 
by  the  merry  name  of 

John  Piper, 

And  a  very  pleasant  fellow  John  turned 
out  to  be  ;  if  he  was  a  little  hyperbolical, 
his  manner  sufficiently  atoned  for  the 
transgression.  The  gloom  of  the  day  was 
soon  forgotten,  and  the  stench  arising 
from  filthy  swamps  less  regarded.  At 
our  entrance  we  complained  heavily  of 
the  insupportable  cloud  with  which  we 
had  been  enveloped. 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  sang  out  the  landlord, 
"  to  be  sure  it  is  too  thick  to  be  eaten 
with  a  spoon,  and  too  thin  to  be  cut  with 
a  knife,  but  it  is  not  so  intolerable  as  a 
scolding  wife,  or  a  hungry  lawyer." 

"  Curse  the  fog,"  cried  our  waterman, 

"  Bless  the  fog,"  answered  our  land- 
lord, "  for  it  has  made  a  man  of  me  for 
life." 

"  How  do  you  make  that  appear  T9  we 
requested  to  know. 

"  Set  you  down,  sir,  by  a  good  sea-coal 
fire,  for  we  pay  no  pool  duties  here,  take 
your  grog  merrily,  and  I'll  tell  you  all 
about  it  presently,"  rejoined  the  tapster, 
when  drawing  a  wooden  stool  towards  us, 
while  his  wife  was  preparing  the  bowl, 
John  Piper  thus  began  : — 

"  You  must  know,  sir,  I  was  born  HI 
this  fog,  and  so  was  my  mother  and  her 
relatives  for  many  past  generations ;  there- 


fore you  will  see,  sir,  a  fog  is  as  natura, 
to  me  as  a  duck -pool  to  a  dab-chick. 
When  poor  dame  Piper  died,  I  found 
myself  exceedingly  melancholy  to  live 
alone  on  these  marshes,  so  determined  to 
change  my  condition  by  taking  a  wife.  It 
was  very  fortunate  for  me,  sir,  I  knew  a 
rich  old  farmer  in  the  uplands,  and  he  had 
three  blooming  daughters,  and  that  which 
made  the  thing  more  desirable,  he  had 
determined  to  give  each  a  portion  of  his 
honourably  acquired  property.  The  far- 
mer had  for  many  years  been  acquainted 
with  my  good  father,  gone  to  rest,  and  this 
gave  me  courage  to  lay  my  case  before 
him.  The  elder  girl  was  the  bird  for  me, 
the  farmer  gave  his  consent,  and  we  were 
married.  Directly  after,  I  quitted  the  up- 
lands for  the  fog,  with  a  pretty  wife  and 
five  hundred  golden  guineas  in  my  pocket, 
as  good  as  ever  bribed  a  lawyer  to  sell  his 
client,  or  a  parliament-man  to  betray  his 
country.  This  was  a  good  beginning,  sir, 
but  alas !  there  is  no  comfort  without  a 
cross ;  my  wife  had  been  used  from  her 
infancy  to  a  fine  keen  open  air,  and  our 
/ow?land  vapours  so  deranged  her  consti- 
tution, that  within  nine  months,  Margaret 
left  me  and  went  to  heaven. 

"  Being  so  suddenly  deprived  of  the 
society  of  one  good  woman,  where  could 
I  apply  for  another,  better  than  to  the 
sack  from  whence  I  drew  the  first  sample  ? 
The  death  of  my  dear  wife  reflected  no 
disgrace  on  me,  and  the  old  man's  se- 
cond daughter  having  no  objection  to  a 
good  husband,  we  presently  entered  into 
the  bonds  of  holy  matrimony,  and  after  a 
few  days  of  merriment,  I  came  home  with 
Susan, 'from  the  sweet  hills  to  the  fogs  of 
the  Rowlands,  and  with  four  hundred  as 
good  guineas  in  my  purse  as  ever  gave 
new  springs  to  the  life  of  poverty.  Similar 
causes,  sir,  they  say  produce  similar  ef- 
fects ;  and  this  is  certainly  true,  foi  in 
somewhere  about  nine  months  more,  Susan 
slept  with  her  sister. 

"  I  ran  to  the  wplands  again,  to  condole 
with  my  poor  old  Nestor,  and  some  how 
or  other  so  managed  the  matter,  that  his 
youngest  daughter,  Rosetta,  conceived  a 
tender  affection  for  Piper.  I  shall  never 
forget  it,  sir,  while  I  have  existence ;  I  had 
been  there  but  a  few  days,  when  the  good 
farmer,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  thus  ad- 
dressed me  :  '  Piper,  you  have  received 
about  nine  hundred  pounds  of  my  money, 
and  I  have  about  the  same  sum  left ;  now, 
son,  as  you  know  how  to  make  a  good 
use  of  it,  I  think  it  is  a  pity  it  should  go 


037 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY 


9*28 


out  of  the  family  ;  therefore,  if  you  have 
a  fancy  for  Rosetta,  I  will  give  you  three 
hundred  pounds  more,  and  the  remnant 
at  my  departure.' 

"  Sir,  I  had  always  an  aversion  to  stand 
ahilly  shally,  (  make  haste  and  leave  no- 
thing to  waste,'  says  the  old  proverb.  The 
kind  girl  was  consenting,  and  we  finished 
the  contract  over  a  mug  of  her  father's  best 
October.  From  the  hills  we  ran  to  the 
/bg-land,  and  in  less  than  two  years  more, 
poor  Rosetta  was  carried  up  the  church- 
way  path,  where  the  three  sisters,  as  they 
used  to  do  in  their  infancy,  lie  by  the 
side  of  each  other;  and  the  old  man  dying 
of  grief  for  the  loss  of  his  favourite,  I 
placed  him  at  their  head,  and  became 
master  of  a  pretty  property. 

"  A  short  time  after,  a  wealthy  widow 
from  Barham,  (of  the  same  family,)  came 
in  the  summer  time  to  our  place.  I  saw 
her  at  church,  and  she  set  her  cap  at 
Piper ;  I  soon  married  her  for  her  Eldo- 
rado metal,  but  alas!  she  turned  out  a 
shrew.  <  Nil  desperandum '  said  I,  Piper, 
to  myself,  the  winter  is  coming  in  good 
time;  the  winter  came,  and  stood  my 
friend  ;  for  the  fog  and  the  ague  took  her 
by  the  hand  and  led  her  to  Abraham's 
bosom. 

"  An  innkeeper's  relict  was  the  next  I 
ventured  on,  she  had  possessions  at  Sit- 
tingbourne,  and  they  were  hardly  mine 
before  my  good  friend,  the  fog,  laid  Ara- 
bella '  at  all-fours'  under  the  turf,  in  St. 
Mary's  churchyard ;  and  now,  sir,  her 
sister,  the  cast-off  of  a  rich  Jew,  fell  into 
my  trap,  and  I  led  her  smiling,  like  a 
vestal,  to  the  temple  of  Hymen ;  but  al- 
though the  most  lively  and  patient  crea- 
ture on  earth,  she  could  not  resist  the 
powers  of  the  fog,  and  I  for  the  sixth 
time  became  a  widower,  with  an  income 
of  three  hundred  a  year,  and  half  the  cot- 
tages in  this  blessed  hundred.  To  be 
brief,  sir,  I  was  now  in  want  of  nothing 
but  a  contented  mind ;  thus,  sir,  through 
the  fog  you  treated  with  such  malignity, 
I  became  qualified  for  a  country  member. 
But  alas !  sir,  there  is  always  something 
unpleasant  to  mingle  with  the  best  of 
human  affairs,  envy  is  ever  skulking  be- 
hind us,  to  squeeze  her  gall-bag  into  the 
cup  of  our  comforts,  and  when  we  think 
ourselves  in  safety,  and  may  sing  the 
song  of  *  O !  be  joyful/  our  merriment 
ends  with  a  *  miseracordia.' " 

After  a  short  pause,  "  Look,  sir,"  said 
Piper,  in  a  loud  whisper,  "  at  that  wo- 
man in  the  bar,  now  making  the  grog,  she 


is  my  seventh  wife;  with  her  I  had  a  for- 
tune also,  but  of  a  different  nature  from 
all  the  rest.  I  married  her  without  pro- 
per consideration — the  wisest  are  some- 
times overtaken  ;  Solomon  had  his  disap- 
pointments ;  would  you  think  it,  sir?  slit 
•was  fogborn  like  myself,  and  withal,  is  so 
tough  in  her  constitution,  that  I  fear  she 
will  hold  me  a  tight  tug  to  the  end  of  my 
existence,  and  become  my  survivor." 

"  Ha!  ha!  ha!"  interjected  Mrs.  Piper, 
(who  had  heard  all  the  long  tale  of  the 
tapstei,)  "  there  is  no  fear  ab9ut  that, 
John,  and  bury  as  many  upland  husbands, 
when  you  lie  under  tne  turf,  as  you,  with 
the  fog,  have  smothered  wives." 

Our  Yorick  now  became  chop-fallen, 
and  a  brisk  wind  springing  up  from  the 
north-west,  the  fog  abated,  and  we  took 
to  our  boat.* 

If  there  be  truth  in  these  narratives, 
the  "  lowland  lasses"  of  the  creeks, 
have  good  reason  for  their  peculiar  liking 
to  "Azg-Aland laddies;"  and  "upland"  girls 
had  better  "  wither  on  the  virgin  thorn," 
than  marry  "  Rowland"  suitors  and — 

"  Fall  as  the  leaves  do 

And  die  in  October."  , 
Far  be  it  from  the  editor,  to  bring  the 
worthy  "  neither  fish  nor  flesh"  swains, 
of  the  Kent  and  Essex  fens  and  fogs, 
into  contempt ;  he  knows  nothing  about 
them.  What  he  has  set  down  he  found 
in  "  the  books,"  and,  having  given  his 
authorities,  he  wishes  them  every  good 
they  desire — save  wives  from  the  up- 
lands. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  75. 

Sfulp  7. 

THOMAS  A  BECKET. 
Strange  to  say,  the  name  of  this  saint, 
so  obnoxious  to  the  early  reformers,  is 
still  retained  in  the  church  of  England 
calendar ;  the  fact  is  no  less  strange  that 
the  day  of  his  festival  is  the  anniversary 
of  the  translation  of  his  relics  from  the 
undercroft  of  the  cathedral  of  Canterbury, 
in  the  year  1220,  to  a  sumptuous  shrine 
at  the  east  end  of  the  church,  whither  they 
attracted  crowds  of  pilgrims,  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  legends  of  the  Romish  church, 
worked  abundant  miracles. 


*  The  Steam-boat  Companion,  by  Thomas  Nicholt, 
182»,  p.  160. 


THfc  EVERY-DAY  BOOK  JULY.    7, 


This  engraving  is  from  a  drawing  by 
Mr.  Harding,  who  states  that  he  made  it 
from  a  very  rare  engraving.  The  drawing 
belongs  to  Mr.  J.  J.  A.  F.,  who  favoured 
the  editor  by  lending  it  for  the  present 
purpose. 

St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury,  bishop  and 
martyr,  attained  the  primacy  during  the 
reign  of  Henry  II.  He  advanced  the 
interests  of  the  church  against  the  in- 
terests of  the  kingdom,  till  a  parliament 
declared  his  possessions  forfeited,  and 
Becket  having  left  the  kingdom,  Henry 
seized  the  revenues  of  the  see. 

It  appears  from  an  old  tract  that  this 
churchman  was  a  swordsman.  He  ac- 
companied Henry  in  one  of  his  campaigns 
with  a  retinue  of  seven  hundred  knights 
and  gentlemen,  kept  twelve  hundred  horse 

VOL.  II.— 82 


a 


in  his  own  pay,  and  bore  ms  dignity  with 
the  carriage  of  the  proudest  baron.  "  His 
bridle  was  of  silver,  his  saddle  of  velvet, 
his  stirrups,  spurs,  and  bosses,  double 
gilt.  His  expenses  far  surpassing  the 
expenses  of  an  earl.  He  fed  with  the 
fattest,  was  clad  with  the  softest,  and  kept 
company  with  the  pleasantest.  And  the 
king  made  him  his  chancellor,  in  whicli 
office  he  passed  the  pomp  and  pride  ot 
Thomas  [Wolseyj  Cardinal,  as  far  as  the 
one's  shrine  passeth  the  other's  tomb  in 
glory  and  .riches.  And,  after  that,  he  was 
a  man  of  war,  and  captain  of  five  or  six 
thousand  men  in  full  harness,  as  bright  as 
St.  George,  and  his  spear  in  his  hand ; 
and  encountered  whosoever  came  against 
him,  and  overthrew  the  jollyest  rutter  that 
was  in  all  the  host  of  France.  And  out 
of  the  field,  hot  from  blood-shedding,  was 


931 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  7. 


932 


he  made  bishop  of  Canterbury,  and  did 
put  off  his  helm,  and  put  on  his  mitre ; 
put  off  his  harness,  ind  on  with  his  robes  j 
and  laid  down  his  spear,  and  took  his 
cross,  ere  his  hands  were  cold ;  and  so 
came,  with  a  lusty  courage  of  a  man  of 
war,  to  fight  another  while  against  his 
prince  for  the  pope;  when  his  prince's 
cause  were  with  the  law  of  God  and  the 
pope's  clean  contrary." 

After  his  disgrace  by  the  king  he  wore 
a  hair  shirt,  ate  meats  of  the  driest,  ex- 
communicated Kis  brother  bishops,  and 
"  was  favoured  with  a  revelation  of  hi? 
martyrdom,"  at  Pontigni.  Alban  Butler 
says,  "  whilst  he  lay  prostrate  before  the 
altar  in  prayers  and  tears,  he  heard  a 
voice,  saying  distinctly,  « Thomas,  Tho- 
mas, my  church  shall  be  glorified  in  thy 
blood/  The  saint  asked, '  Who  art  thou, 
Lord?'  and  the  same  voice  answered,  ' 1 
am  Jesus  Christ,  the  son  of  the  living 
God,  thy  brother.' "  He  then  returned  to 
England,  excited  rebellious  commotions, 
and  on  Christmas-day,  1170,  preached  his 
last  sermon  to  his  flock,  on  the  text,  "  And 
peace  to  men  of  good-will  on  earth." 
These  are  the  words  wherein  Alban  But- 
ler expresses  the  "  text,"  which,  it  may  be 
as  well  to  observe,  is  a  garbled  passage 
from  the  New  Testament,  and  was  altered 
perhaps  to  suit  the  saint's  views  and 
application.  Room  cannot  be  afforded 
in  this  place  for  particulars  of  his  pre- 
ceding conduct,  or  an  exact  description  of 
his  death,  which  is  well-known  to  have 
been  accomplished  by  "  four  knights," 
who,  from  attachment  to  the  king,  ac- 
cording to  the  brutal  manners  of  those 
days,  revenged  his  quarrel  by  killing  St. 
Thomas,  while  at  prayers  in  Canterbury 
cathedral. 


The  following  interesting  paper  relates 
to  one  of  the  knights  who  slew  Becket — 

Sin  WILLIAM  DE  TRACY. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

June,  1826. 

Sir, — I  beg  leave  to  transmit  to  you 
an  account  of  the  burial  place  of  sir  Wil- 
liam de  Tracy,  one  of  the  murderers  of 
Thomas  k  Becket,  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Second. 
I  regret,  at  the  same  time,  that  distance 


from  the  spot  precludes  the  possibility  of 
my  taking  a  drawing  of  the  tomb,  but  I 
have  by  me  its  measurement,  and  the  in- 
scription, which  I  copied  with  as  great 
care  as  possible  when  there. 

The  parish  church  of  Morthoe,  pro- 
bably built  by  Tracy  himself,  is  situated 
on  the  bold  and  rocky  coast  of  the  north 
of  Devon.  It  stands  on  an  eminence, 
near  the  sea-shore,  is  sheltered  by  hills  on 
the  north  and  south,  but  open  towards  the 
west,  on  which  side  is  the  fine  bay  of 
Woolacombe.  The  interior  of  the  church 
presents  the  humblest  appearance;  its 
length  is  near  80  feet,  its  breadth  1 8,  ex- 
cepting the  middle,  which,  with  an  aisle, 
measures  30.  On  the  west  side  is  a 
recess,  15  feet  by  14,  in  the  centre  of 
which  is  the  vault,  containing  the  remains 
of  de  Tracy.  The  rustic  inhabitants  of 
the  parish  can  give  no  other  account  of 
the  tomb  than  the  traditionary  one,  that  it 
contains  the  remains  of  a  giant,  to  whom, 
in  the  olden  time,  all  that  part  of  the 
country  belonged. 

The  vault  itself  is  2  feet  4  in.  high ; 
7  feet  6  in.  long  at  the  base  ;  three  feet 
and  a  half  broad  at  one  end  of  ditto,  and 
two  feet  and  a  half,  at  the  other.  The 
large  black  slab  covering  the  top  of  the 
vault  is  half  a  foot  in  thickness.  En- 
graved on  this  slab  is  the  figure  of  a  per- 
son in  robes,  holding  a  chalice  in  one 
hand  ;  and  round  the  border  is  an  inscrip- 
tion, which  is  now  almost  illegible.  I 
had  a  drawing  of  the  whole,  which  I  have 
lost,  but  with  the  account  I  wrote  at  the 
time  of  visiting  the  place,  I  have  preserved 
the  inscription,  as  far  as  I  was  able  to 
make  it  out.* 

On  .the  east  side  of  the  vault  are  three 
armorial  bearings,  and  the  carved  figures 
of  two  nuns ;  on  the  north  is  the  cruci- 
fixion ;  on  the  west  side,  there  is  nothing 
but  Gothic  carving  ;  and  the  south  end  is 
plain. 

An  old  and  respectable  farmer,  residing 
at  Morthoe,  informed  me  that  about  fifty  or 
sixty  years  ago  "  a  gentleman  from  Lon- 
don" came  down  to  take  an  account  of 
the  tomb,  and  carried  away  with  him  the 
skull  and  one  of  the  thigh  bones  of  de 
Tracy.  He  opened  and  examined  the 
vault  with  the  connivance  of  a  negligent 

*  Unfortunately  it  was  not  discovered  that  some 
of  the  letters,  in  the  inscription  referred  to,  could 
not  be  represented  by  the  usual  Saxon  types,  till  it 
was  too  late  to  remedy  the  accident  fey  having  them 
engraven  on  wood  ;  and  hence  the  inscription  w,  of 
necessity,  omitted. — Editor. 


933 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  7. 


934 


and  eccentric  minister,  then  resident  in 
the  parish,  who  has  left  behind  him  a  fame 
by  no  means  to  be  envied. 

The  gentleman  alluded  to  by  the  worthy 
yeoman  was  no  doubt  the  celebrated  an- 
tiquary Gough,  who,  in  his  "  Sepulchral 
Monuments  in  Great  Britain,"  has  given 
a  long  account  of  the  life  and  burialplace 
of  Tracy.  In  his  introduction  to  that 
laborious  and  very  valuable  work,  page 
ciii.  he  says  : — "  The  instances  of  figures 
cut  in  the  slab,  and  not  inlaid  with  metal, 
nor  always  blacked,  are  not  uncommon." 
Among  the  instances  which  he  cites  to 
illustrate  this  remark,  he  mentions  the 
slab  on  the  vault  of  "  William  de  Tracy, 
Rector  of  Morthoe,  Devon,  1322." — Here 
we  find  the  gigantic  knight  dwindled  to  a 

E arson  ;  and  the  man  whose  name  should 
e  for  ever  remembered  with  gratitude  by 
his  countrymen,  the  hero  who  happily 
achieved  a  far  more  arduous  enterprise,  a 
work  of  greater  glory  than  'did  the  re- 
nowned but  fabled  saint,  over  the  devour- 


ing dragon — forgotten  beneath  the  robe 
of  an  obscure  village  rector  !  The  parish 
of  Morthoe  is,  however,  not  a  rectory,  but 
what  is  called  a  "  perpetual  curacy,"  and 
the  living  is  at  present  not  worth  much 
more  than  seventy  pounds  per  annum. 

Since  I  have,  by  the  merest  accident, 
got  hold  of  Gough,  I  will  extract  what  he 
records  of  the  forgotten  Tracy,  as  it  may 
not  be  unentertaining  to  the  lover  of  his- 
tory to  peruse  a  detail  of  the  ultimate  fate 
of  one  of  the  glorious  four,  who  delivered 
their  country  from  perhaps  the  greatest 
pest  that  was  ever  sent  to  scourge  it. 

"  William  de  Tracy,  one  of  the  mur- 
derers of  Becket,  has  been  generally 
supposed,  on  the  authority  of  Mr.  Risdon, 
(p.  116.)  to  have  built  an  aisle  in  the 
church  of  Morthoe,  Devon ;  and  to  have 
therein  an  altar-tomb  about  2  feet  high, 
with  his  figure  engraven  on  a  grey  slab 
of  Purbeck  marble,  7  feet  by  3,  and  7 
inches  thick,  and  this  inscription,  [in 
Saxon  capitals,] 


«  SYRE  [Guillau]  ME  DE  TRACY  [gist  icy,  Diu  de  son  all  ME 
EYT  MERCY. 


'*  On  the  upper  end  of  this  tomb  is 
carved  in  relief  the  crucifixion,  with  the 
virgin  and  St.  John,  and  on  the  north 
side  some  Gothic  arches,  and  these  three 
coats;  I.  Az.  3  lions  passant  guardant, 
Arg.  2.  Arg.  3.  two  bars,  G.  Az.  a  saltire, 

Or. The  first  of  these  is  the  coat  of 

William  Camville,  formerly  patron  of 
this  church :  the  second,  that  of  the 
Martins,  formerly  lords  of  Barnstaple, 
who  had  lands  in  this  neighbourhood  : 
the  third,  that  of  the  Saint  Albins,  who 
had  also  estates  in  the  adjoining  parish 
of  Georgeham. 

"  The  figure  on  the  slab  is  plainly  that 
of  a  priest  in  his  sacerdotal  habit, 
holding  a  chalice  between  his  hands,  as 

if  in  the  act  of  consecration. Bishop 

Stapledon's  register,  though  it  does  not 
contain  the  year  of  his  institution,  fixes 
the  date  of  his  death  in  the  following 
terms,  '  Anno,  1322,  16  Deer.  Thomas 
Robertus  prcssentat.  ad  cedes,  de  Morthoe 
vacant  em  per  mortem  Wilhelmi  de  Trad, 
die  dominie,  primo  post  nativ.  Virginis 
per  mortem  Will,  de  Campvill.' 

"  The  era  of  the  priest  is  therefore 
140  years  later  than  that  of  the  knight. 
It  does  not  appear  by  the  episcopal  re- 
gisters that  the  Trades  were  ever  patrons 
of  Morthoe,  except  in  the  following  in- 
stances : — 


"Anno,  1257,  Cal.  Junii,  John  All-' 
worthy,  presented  by  Henry  de  Traci, 
guardian  of  the  lands  and  heirs  of  Ralph 
de  Brag.  Anno,  1275.  Thomas  Capel- 
lanus  was  presented  to  this  rectory  by 
Philip  de  Weston.  In  1330,  Feb.  5, 
Henry  de  la  Mace  was  presented  to  this 
rectory  by  William  de  Camville.  In 
1381,  Richard  Hopkins  was  presented  by 
the  dean  and  chapter  of  Exeter,  who 
are  still  patrons. 

"  It  is  probable  that  the  stone  with  the 
inscription  to  William  de. Tracy  did  not 
originally  belong  to  the  altar-tomb  on 
which  it  now  lies  ;  but  by  the  arms  seems 
rather  to  have  been  erected  for  the  patron 
William  de  Camville,  it  being  unusual  in 
those  days  to  raise  so  handsome  a  monu- 
ment for  a  priest,  especially  as  the  altar- 
tomb  and  slab  are  of  very  different  ma- 
terials, and  the  benefice  itself  is  of  very 
inconsiderable  value.  It  is  also  probable 
the  monument  of  Traci  lay  on  the  ground, 
and  that  when  this  monument  was  broken 
open,  according  to  Risdon,  in  the  last 
century,  this  purbeck  slab  was  placed 
upon  the  altar-tomb  though  it  did  not  at 
first  belong  to  it. 

"  The  Devonshire  antiquaries  assert  that 
sir  William  de  Tracy  retired  to  this  place 
after  he  had  murdered  Becket.  But  this 
tradition  seems  to  rest  on  no  better  au 


935 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  7. 


636 


thority  than  the  misrepresentation  of  the 
inscription  here  given,  and  because  the 
family  of  Traci  possessed  the  fourth  part 
of  a  fee  in  Woolacombe  within  this 
parish,  which  is  still  called  after  their 
name.  But  the  Tracies  had  many  pos- 
sessions in  this  country,  as  Bovey  Traci, 
Nymett  Traci,  Bedford  Traci,  &c.  Wil- 
liam de  Traci  held  the  honor  of  Barn- 
staple,  in  the  beginning  of  Henry  the 
Second's  reign.  King  John  granted  the 
Barony  of  Barnstaple  to  Henry  de  Traci, 
in  the  15th  of  his  reign  ;  and  the  family 
seem  to  hare  been  possessed  of  it  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  III.  I  am  indebted  -to 
the  friendship  of  the  present  Dean  of 
Exeter  for  the  above  observations,  which 
ascertain  the  monument  in  question. 

"  I  shall  digress  no  farther  on  this 
subject  than  to  observe  of  sir  William  de 
Traci,  that  four  years  after  the  murder 
of  Becket  he  had  the  title  of  Steward, 
i.  e.  Justice  of  Normandy,  which  he  held 
but  two  years.  He  was  in  arms  against 


King  John  in  the  last  year  of  his  reign, 
and  his  estate  was  confiscated ;  but  on 
his  return  to  his  allegiance,  2  Henry  III. 
it  was  restored  He  was  living,  7  Henry 
III.  (Dugd.  Bar.  i.  622.)  consequently 
died  about  or  after  1223,  having  survived 
Becket  upwards  of  57  years."* 

Another  slight  mention  is  made  of 
Tracy  in  p.  26.  In  describing  Becket's 
shrine  he  quotes  Stowe  to  this  effect, — 
"  The  shrine  of  Thomas  a  Becket  (says 
Stowe)  was  builded  about  a  man's  height, 
all  of  stone,  then  upward  of  timber  plain, 
within  which  was  a  chest  of  iron,  con- 
taining the  bones  of  Thomas  Beckett, 
skull  and  all,  with  the  wound  of  his 
death,  and  the  piece  cut  out  of  his  scull 
laid  in  the  same  wound."  Gough  re- 
marks : — "  He  should  have  added  the 
point  of  Sir  William  Traci,  the  fourth 
assassin's  sword,  which  broke  off  against 
the  pavement,  after  cutting  off  his  scull, 
so  that  the  brains  came  out. 


'  In  thulke  stede  the  verthe  smot,  y1  the  other  adde  er  ydo, 
And  the  point  of  is  suerd  brec  in  the  marbreston  a  tuo, 
Zat  thulke  point  at  Canterbury  the  monckes  lateth  wite, 
Vor  honor  of  the  holi  man  yl  therewith  was  ismite. 
With  thulke  strok  he  smot  al  of  the  scolle  &  eke  the  crowne 
That  the  brain  ron  al  ebrod  in  the  pauiment  ther  donne.'  " 

(Robert  of  Glouces.  p.  476.^ 


This  long  extract,  Mr.  Editor,  has,  I 
confess,  made  me  rather  casuistical  on 
the  subject  of  Tracy's  tomb.  I  shall, 
however,  search  some  of  the  old  chroni- 
clers and  see  if  they  throw  any  light 
upon  the  biography  of  our  knight.  Hume 
mentions  Tracy,  and  his  three  com- 
panions, but  is  perfectly  silent  with  re- 
spect to  the  cutting  off  the  top  of  the 
churchman's  skull.  His  words  are, 
"  they  followed  him  thither,  attacked 
him  before  the  altar,  and  having  cloven 
his  head  with  many  blows,  retired  without 
meeting  any  opposition."  Should  you, 
in  the  mean  time,  insert  this,  you  will 
shortly  hear  again  from 

Your  obedient  servant, 

R.  A.  R. 


Distrusting  his  own  judgment  on  the 
subject  of  the  preceding  letter,  the  editor 
laid  it  before  a  gentleman  whose  erudition 
he  could  rely  on  for  the  accuracy  of  any 
opinion  he  might  be  pleased  to  express, 
and  who  obligingly  writes  as  follows  : — 


THE  TOMB  At  MORTHOE. 

R.  A.  R.'s  letter,  submitted  to  me 
through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Hone,  cer- 
tainly conveys  much  interesting  miscel- 
laneous information,  although  it  proves 
nothing,  and  leaves  the  question,  of  who 
is  actually  the  tenant  of  this  tomb,  pretty 
much  where  he  finds  it.  In  my  humble 
opinion,  the  circumstance  of  technical 
heraldic  bearings,  and  those  moreovei 
quartered,  being  found  upon  it,  com- 
pletely negatives  the  idea  of  its  being  the 
tomb  of  Becket's  assassin.  It  is  well 
known  that  the  first  English  subject  who 
ever  bore  arms  quarterly  is  Hastings, 
earl  of  Pembroke,  who  died  in  the  reign 
of  Edward  III.  and  is  buried  inWestmin- 
ster  abbey. 

Family  arms  seem  not  to  have  been 
continuedly  adopted,  till  towards  the 
time  of  Edward  I. 

W.  P. 


*  Gougli's  Sepul.  Mon,  vol.  i.  p.  39,  40. 


937 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  8. 


93h 


The  death  of  Becket  appears  to  have 
been  sincerely  deplored  by  Henry  II.,  in- 
asmuch as  the  pope  and  his  adherents 
visited  the  sin  of  the  four  knights  upon 
the  king,  and  upbraided  him  with  his 
subjects  by  ecclesiastical  fulminations. 
He  endeavoured  to  make  peace  with 
the  church  by  submitting  to  a  public 
whipping.  A  late  biographer  records  his 
meanness  in  the  following  sentences  : 

In  1174  king  Henry  went  on  a  pilgri- 
mage to  the  tomb  of  the  late  archbishop 
Becket,  with  the  fame  of  whose  miracles 
the  whole  realm  was  now  filled,  and 
whom  the  pope,  by  a  bull  dated  in  March 
the  year  before,  had  declared  a  saint  and 
a  martyr,  appointing  an  anniversary  fes- 
tival to  be  kept  on  the  day  of  his  death, 
in  order  (says  the  bull)  that,  being  con- 
tinually applied  to  by  the  prayers  of  the 
faithful,  he  should  intercede  with  God 
for  the  clergy  and  people  of  England. 

Henry,  therefore,  desiring  to  obtain  for 
himself  this  intercession,  or  to  make  others 
believe  that  the  wrath  of  an  enemy,  to 
whom  it  was  supposed  that  such  power 
was  given,  might  be  thus  averted  from 
him,  thought  it  necessary  to  visit  the 
shrine  of  this  new-created  saint ;  and,  as 
soon  as  he  came  within  sight  of  the  tower 
of  Canterbury  cathedral,  (July  10,)  at  the 
distance  of  three  miles,  descended  from 
his  horse,  and  walked  thither  barefoot, 
over  a  road  that  was  full  of  rough  and 
sharp  stones,  which  so  wounded  his  feet 
that  in  many  places  they  were  stained 
with  his  blood. 

When  he  got  to  the  tomb,  which  was 
then  in  the  crypt  (or  under-croft)  of  the 
church,  he  threw  himself  prostrate  before 
it,  and  remained,  for  some  time,  in  fer- 
vent prayer  ;  during  which,  by  his  orders, 
the  bishop  of  London,  in  his  name,  de- 
clared to  the  people,  that  "  he  had  neither 
commanded,  nor  advised,  nor  by  any 
artifice  contrived  the  death  of  Becket,  for 
the  truth  of  which,  he  appealed,  in  the 
most  solemn  manner,  to  the  testimony  of 
God  ;  but,  as  the  murderers  of  that  pre- 
late had  taken  occasion  from  his  words, 
too  inconsiderately  spoken,  to  commit  this 
offence,  he  voluntarily  thus  submitted 
nimself  to  the  discipline  of  the  church." 

After  this  he  was  scourged,  at.  his  own 
request  and  command,  by  all  the  monks 
of  the  convent,  assembled  for  that  purpose, 
from  every  one  of  whom,  and  from  several 
bishops  and  abbots  there  present,  he  re- 
ceived three  or  four  stripes. 

This  sharp  penance    being   done,    he 


returned  to  his  prayers  before  the  tomb, 
which  he  continued  all  that  day,  and  all 
the  next  night,  not  even  suffering  a  carpet 
to  be  spread  beneath  him,  but  kneeling 
on  the  hard  pavement. 

Early  in  the  morning  he  went  round 
all  the  altars  of  the  church,  and  paid  his 
devotions  to  the  bodies  of  the  saints  there 
interred  ;  which  having  performed,  he 
came  back  to  Becket's  tomb,  where  he 
staid  till  the  hour  when  mass  was  said  in 
the  church,  at  which  he  assisted. 

During  all  this  time  he  had  taken  no 
kind  of  food  ;  and,  except  when  he  gave 
his  naked  body  to  be  whipped,  was  clad 
in  sackcloth.  Before  his  departure,  (that 
he  might  fully  complete  the  expiation  of 
his  sin,  according  to  the  notions  of  the 
church  of  Rome,)  he  assigned  a  revenue 
of  forty  pounds  a  year,  to  keep  lights 
always  burning  in  honour  of  Becket  about 
his  tomb.  The  next  evening  he  reached 
London,  where  he  found  it  necessary  to 
be  blooded,  and  rest  some  days.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  ,  .  62  •  00. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

July  8,  1533,  Ariosto,  the  celebrated 
Italian  poet,  died  at  Ferrara  :  he  was  born 
in  1474,  at  the  castle  of  Reggio  in  Lom- 
bardy. 

THE  SEASON. 

In  high  summer,  persons  accustomed  to 
Jive  "  well"  should  diminish  the  usual 
quantity  of  their  viands  and  fluids  :  wine 
should  be  taken  very  sparingly,  and  spiri- 
tuous liquors  seldom.  Habits  of  indul- 
gence at  this  period  of  the  year  fill  many 
graves. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  cite 

A  CURIOUS  ADVERTISEMENT, 
From  the  Bahama  Gazette,  JwweSO,  1795. 

WHEREAS  the  subscriber,  through 
the  pernicious  habit  of  drinking, 
has  greatly  hurt  himself  in  purse  and  per- 
son, and  rendered  himself  odious  to  all 
his  acquaintance,  and  finding  there  is  no 
possibility  of  breaking  off  from  the  said 

*  Lord  Lyt.tletrn. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  9. 


940 


practice,  but  through  the  impossibility  to 
find  the  liquor;  he  therefore  begs  and 
prays  that  no  persons  will  sell  him,  for 
money  or  on  trust,  any  sort  of  spirituous 
liquors,  as  he  will  not  in  future  pay  it, 
but  will  prosecute  any  one  for  an  action 
of  damage  against  the  temporal  and 
eternal  interests  of  the  public's  humble, 
serious,  and  sober  servant, 

JAMES  CHALMERS. 

Witness  WILLIAM  ANDREWS. 
Nassau,  Jw\e  28,  1795. 


ARRIVALS  EXTRAORDINARY. 

At  the  commencement  of  July,  1826, 
hedgehogs  were   seen   wandering   along 


the  most  public  streets  of  Oldham,  in 
Lancashire,  during  the  open  day.  It  is 
presumed  that,  as  the  brooks  from  which 
these  animals  were  wont  to  be  supplied 
with  drink  had  been  dried  up  from  the 
long-continued  drought,  they  were  obliged 
to  throw  themselves  upon  the  mercy  and 
protection  of  their  "  good  neighbours  in 
the  town."* 

In  this  month  we  have  a  host  of  whiz- 
zing insects  to  prevent  our  lassitude  be- 
coming downright  laziness.  From  the 
kind  of  resentment  they  excite,  we  may 
pretty  well  imagine  the  temper  and  dis- 
position of  the  persons  they  provoke. 


*  Manchester  Gazette. 


THE  DROWNING  FLY. 


In  yonder  glass  behold  a  drowning  fly ! 
Its  little  feet  how  vainly  does  it  ply ! 
Its  cries  we  hear  not,  yet  it  loudly  cries, 
And  gentle  hearts  can  feel  its  agonies ! 
Poor  helpless  victim — and  will  no  one  save  ? 
Will  no  one  snatch  thee  from  the  threatening  wave? 
Is  there  no  friendly  hand — no  helper  nigh, 
And  must  thou,  little  struggler — must  thou  die? 
Thou  shalt  not,  whilst  this  hand  can  set  thee  free, 
Thou  shalt  not  die — this  hand  shall  rescue  thee ! 
My  finger's  tip  shall  prove  a  friendly  shore, 
There,  trembler,  all  thy  dangers  now  are  o'er. 
Wipe  thy  wet  wings,  and  banish  all  thy  fear ; 
Go,  join  thy  numerous  kindred  in  the  air. 
Away  it  flies  ;  resumes  its  harmless  play ; 
And  lightly  gambols  in  the  golden  ray. 

Smile  not,  spectators,  at  this  humble  deed; 
For  you,  perhaps,  a  nobler  task's  decreed. 
A  young  and  sinking  family  to  save  : 
To  raise  the  infant  from  destruction's  wave ! 
To  you,  for  help,  the  victims  lift  their  eyes— 
Oh!  hear,  for  pity's  sake,  their  plaintive  cries; 
Ere  long,  unless  some  guardian  interpose, 
O'er  their  devoted  heads  the  flood  may  close ! 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  ;  .  63  •  07. 

Sulp  9. 

WoLVERHAMPTON  FAIR. 

Every  year  on  the  ninth  of  July,  the  eve  of 
the  great  fair  of  Wolvernampton,  there  was 
formerly  a  procession  of  men  in  antique 
armour,  preceded  by  musicians  playing 


the/azr  tune,  and  followed  by.  the  steward 
of  the  deanry  manor,  the  peace  officers, 
and  many  of  the  principal  inhabitants. 
Tradition  says,  the  ceremony  originated 
when  Wolverhampton  was  a  great  empo- 
rium of  wool,  and  resorted  to  by  mer- 
chants of  the  staple  from  all  parts  of  Eng- 
land. The  necessity  of  an  armed  force  to 
keep  peace  and  order  during  the  fair, 
(which  is  said  to  have  lasted  fourteen 
days,  but  the  charter  says  only  eight,)  is 


941 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  10  11. 


942 


not  improbable.  This  custom  of  walking 
the  fair,  as  it  was  called,  with  the  armed 
procession,  &c.  was  first  omitted  about 
the  year  1789.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAK. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  87. 


10. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  tenth  of  July,  1740,  died  sir 
Charles  Crispe,  bart.  of  Oxfordshire.  He 
was  great-grandson  of  sir  Nicholas  Crispe, 
bart.  who  spent  100,000?.  in  the  service 
of  king  Charles  I.  and  II.  He  took  out 
a  commission  of  array  for  the  city  of  Lon- 
don, for  which  the  parliament  offered 
1000/.  reward  to  bring  him  alive  or  dead. 
The  city  of  London  sent  him  commis- 
sioner to  Breda,  to  invite  over  king 
Charles  II.  who  took  him  in  his  arms, 
and  kissed  him,  and  said,  "  Surely  the 
city  has  a  mind  highly  to  oblige  me,  by 
sending  over  my  father's  old  friend  to 
invite  me."  He  was  the  first  who  settled 
a  trade  to  the  coast  of  Africa.* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  62  •  85. 


11. 


CHRONOLOGY 

On  the  eleventh  of  July,  1804,  general 
Hamilton  of  New-York  was  killed  in.  a 
duel  by  colonel  Burr,  the  vice-president 
of  the  United  States. 

MEMORANDUM. 
To  Men  of  Honour. 

WHEREAS  certain  persons  who  contemn 
the  obligations  of  religion,  are  neverthe- 
less mindful  of  the  law  of  the  land  :  And 
whereas  it  is  supposed  by  some  of  such 
persons,  that  parties  contemplating  to 
fight  a  duel  and  bound  over  before  a  ma- 
gistrate to  keep  the  peace,  may,  notwith- 
standing, fight  such  duel  in  foreign  parts  : 
BE  IT  KNOWN,  that  the  law  which  extends 
protection  to  all  its  subjects,  can  also 
punish  them  for  breach  of  duty,  and  that, 
therefore,  offences  by  duelling  beyond 
sea,  are  indictable  and  punishable  in  man- 
ner and  form,  the  same  as  if  such  duels 
were  fought  within  the  United  kingdom. 

After  this  warning  against  a  prevailing 
offence,  we  may  become  acquainted  with 
the  character  of  an  unoffending  individual, 
through  the  pen  of  a  respected  friend  to 
this  work. 


CHEAP  TOMMY. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

If  I  forget  thee,  worthy  old  Tam  Hogg, 

May  I  forget  that  ever  knives  were  cheap  : — 
If  I  forget  thy  barrow  huge  and  steep, 

Slow  as  a  snail,  and  croaking  like  a  frog  :— 

Peripatetic,  stoic,  "  cynic  dog," 

It  from  my  memory  perish  thee,  or  thine, 
May  I  be  doomed  to  gnaw  asunder  twine, 

Or  shave  with  razor  that  has  chipped  a  log  ! 

For  in  thy  uncouth  tabernacle  dwelt 
Honest  philosophy  ;  and  oh  !  far  more 

Religion  thy  unstooping  heart  could  melt, 

Nor  scorned  the  muse  to  sojourn  at  thy  door ; 

What  pain,  toil,  poverty  didst  thou  endure, 

Reckless  of  earth  so  heaven  might  find  thee  pure ! 


In  my  native  village  of  Heanor,  in 
Derbyshire,  some  sixteen  or  seventeen 
years  ago,  there  appeared  a  singular  cha- 
racter, whose  arrival  excited  a  sensation, 


Shaw's  Staffordshire. 
f  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


and  became  an  epoch  in  its  history. 
Some  boys  who  had  been  strolling  to  a 
distance  brought  an  account  that  a  little 
man,  with  a  barrow  as  large  as  a  house, 
was  coming  along  the  lane,  at  "  a  snail's 
gallop."  Forth  sallied  a  troop  of  gazers 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  11, 


944 


who  found  a  small,  thick-set,  round-faced 
mau,  in  an  old,  red,  soldier's  jacket,  and 
cocked  hat,  sitting  on  the  handle  of  his 
barrow,  which  was  built  and  roofed  after 
the  manner  of  a  caravan ;  and  was  a 
storehouse  of  some  kind  of  merchandise, 
•what  they  yet,  knew  not.  He  sat  very 
quietly  as  they  came  round  him,  and 
returned  their  greetings  in  a  way  short 
and  dry,  and  which  became  markedly 
testy  and  impatient,  as  they  crowded 
more  closely,  and  began  to  ask  questions. 
"  Not  too  fast,  my  masters ;  not  too  fast ! 
my  first  answer  can't  overtake  your  twen- 
tieth question."  At  length  he  rose,  and, 
by  the  aid  of  a  strong  strap  passed  over 
his  shoulders,  heaved  up  the  handles  of 
his  barrow,  and  placing  his  head  against 
it,  like  a  tortoise  under  a  stone,  proceeded 
at  a  toilsome  rate  of  some  few  hundred 
yards  per  hour.  This  specimen  of  patient 
endurance  amazed  the  villagers.  A 
brawny  labourer  would  have  thought  it 
a  severe  toil  to  wheel  it  a  mile  ;  yet  this 
singular  being,  outdoing  the  phlegmatic 
perseverance  of  an  ass,  casting  Job  him- 
self in  the  background  for  patience,  from 
league  to  league,  from,  county  to  county, 
and  from  year  to  year,  urged  on  his  pon- 
derous vehicle  with  almost  imperceptible 
progression. 

It  was  soon  found  that  he  was  not 
more  singular  in  appearance,  than  eccen- 
tric in  mind.  A  villager,  thinking  to 
do  him  a  kindness,  offered  to  wheel  his 
barrow,  but  what  was  the  surprise  of  the 
gazers  to  see  him  present  the  man  pay- 
ment when  he  had  moved  it  a  consider- 
able way,  and  on  its  being  refused,  to 
behold  him  quietly  raise  the  barrow,  turn 
it  round,  and  wheel  it  back  to  the  iden- 
tical spot  whence  the  villager  set  out 

On  reaching  the  hamlet,  he  took  up 
his  quarters  in  a  stable,  and  opened  his 
one-wheeled  caravan,  displaying  a  good 
assortment  of  cutlery  ware.  It  was  there 
i  first  saw  him,  and  was  struck  with  his 
grave  and  uncomplying  air,  more  like 
that  of  a  beadle  stationed  to  keep  off 
intruders,  than  of  a  solicitous  vender  of 
ivares.  He  was  standing  with  a  pair  of 
pliers,  twisting  wire  into  scissor-chains ; 
keeping,  at  the  same  time,  a  shrewd  eye 
upon  the  goods.  The  prices  were  so 
wonderfully  low  that  it  was  whispered 
the  articles  could  not  be  good,  or  they 
were  stolen:  yet  I  did  not  perceive 
that  either  idea  was  sufficient  to  dissuade 
the  people  from  buying,  or  from  attempt- 
i  rig  to  get  them  still  lower.  Then  it  was 


that  his  character  and  temper  showed 
themselves.  He  .laid  aside  the  goods 
attempted  to  be  chaffered  for,  saying, — 
"  You  shall  not  have  them  at  all,  I  tell 
no  lies  about  them  nor  shall  you."  In 
fact  his  goods  were  goods.  So  much  so, 
that  many  of  them  are  in  use  in  the  vil- 
lage to  this  day  :  he  desired  only  such  a 
profit  as  would  supply  the  necessities  of 
one  who  never  slept  in  a  bed,  never  ap- 
proached a  fire  for  the  sake  of  its  warmth, 
nor  ever  indulged  in  any  luxury.  His 
greatest  trial  appeared  to  be  to  bear  with 
the  sordid  spirit  of  the  world.  When 
this  did  not  cross  him  he  became  smiling, 
communicative,  and,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  exceedingly  intelligent.  I  well 
recollect  my  boyish  astonishment  when 
he  quoted  to  me  maxims  of  Plato  and 
Seneca,  and  when  I  heard  him  pouring 
out  abundance  of  anecdote  from  the 
best  sources.  He  had  a  real  spirit  of 
kindliness  in  him,  though  the  most  imme- 
diately striking  features  of  his  mind  were 
shrewdness  and  rigid  notions  of  truth ; 
which,  as  he  practised  it  hhnself,  he 
seemed  to  expect  from  the  whole  world. 
He  had  a  tame  hedgehog  which  partook 
his  fare,  slept  in  a  better  nest  than  himself, 
and  was  evidently  a  source  of  affectionate 
enjoyment.  He  was  fond  of  children; 
but  he  had  a  stern  spirit  of  independence 
which  made  him  refuse  gifts  and  favours, 
unless  permitted  to  make  some  return. 
My  mother  frequently  sent  him  warm 
messes  in  the  wintry  weather,  and  he 
brought  her  a  scissor-chain  and  a  candle- 
stick of  brass-wire.  He  was  a  writer  of 
anagrams,  acrostics,  and  so  forth;  and 
one  epitaph  written  for  one  of  his  by- 
standers was,— 

"  Too  bad  for  heaven,  too  good  for  hell, 
So  where  he's  gone  I  cannot  tell." 

He  always  slept  with  his  barrow  chained 
to  his  leg ;  and  on  Sundays  kept  himself 
totally  shut  up,  except  during  service 
time,  standing  the  day  through,  reading 
his  bible. 

When  his  character  was  known,  he 
grew  to  be  a  general  favourite.  His  stable 
became  a  sort  of  school,  where  he  taught, 
to  a  constant  audience,  more  useful  know 
ledge  than  has  emanated  from  many  a 
philosopher,  modern  or  antique.  The 
good-will  he  excited  evidently  pleased  the 
old  man  ;  he  came  again,  and  again,  till 
at  length  years  rolled  avray  without  his 
reappearance,  and  he  war-  considered  as 
dead.  But  not  so.  For  ten  or  eleven 


945 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  11. 


years  he  was  still  going  on  his  pilgrimage, 
a  \vanderer  and  an  outcast ;  probably 
doing  voluntary  penance  for  some  sin  or 
unhappiness  of  youth ;  for  he  carefully 
kept  aloof  of  his  native  country,  Scotland, 
and  though  he  spoke  of  one  living  sister 
with  tearful  eyes,  he  had  not  seen  her  for 
many,  many  years.  In  1820  he  had 
found  his  way  to  Midsomer  Norton,  near 
Bristol,  where  he  was  hooted  into  the  town 
by  a  troop  of  boys,  a  poor,  worn-down 
object,  of  the  most  apparent  misery.  This 
I  accidentally  learnt,  a  short  time  ago, 
from  a  little  book,  the  memorial  of  his  last 
days,  written  by  the  worthy  clergyman  of 
that  place,  and  published  by  Simpkin 
and  Marshall,  London. 

What  a  tale  would  the  history  of 
those  years  have  displayed.  What  scenes 
of  solitary  travel,  exhaustion,  suffering, 
insults,  and  occasional  sympathy  and 
kindness,  breaking,  like  cheering  sun- 
beams, through  the  ordinary  gloom. 
Hit  barrow  was  gone !  Poverty  had 
wrung  from  him,  or  weakness  had  com- 
pelled him  to  abandon,  that  old  com- 
panion of  his  travels.  I  have  often 
thought  what  must  have  been  his  feelings 


946 

at  that  parting.  Poor  old  man,  it  was 
his  house,  his  friend,  his  dog,  his  every- 
thing. What  energies  had  he  not  ex- 
pended in  propelling  it  from  place  to 
place.  It  could  not  have  been  left 
without  a  melancholy  pang, — without 
seeming  to  begin  a  more  isolated  and 
cheerless  existence.  But  I  cannot  dwell 
upon  the  subject.  It  is  sufficient  to  say 
that  he  found  in  the  rev.  William  Read, 
who  wrote  the  little  book  just  mentioned, 
an  excellent  friend  in  the  time  of  final 
need.  That  he  retained  the  same  ec- 
centric, yet  consistent  character  to  the 
last;  displaying,  in  a  concluding  scene 
of  such  bodily  wretchedness  and  suffer- 
ings as  has  seldom  been  paralleled,  the 
same  astonishing  endurance,  nay  ebullient 
thankfulness  of  heart ;  and  that  his  piety 
seems  to  hare  worn  off  much  of  his  as- 
perity of  manner. 

A  didactic  poem  called  "  The  Flower 
Knot,"  or,  "  The  Guide  Post,"  was 
found  after  his  death,  a  composition  of  no 
ordinary  merit,  from  which  we  will  quote 
two  passages,  and  bid  a  final  adieu  to 
our  old  friend  under  every  name  of  Tho- 
mas Hogg,  Tarn  Hogg,  or  Cheap  Tommy. 


Wit. 

"  Pope  calls  it  feather — does  he  not  say  right  ? 
Tis  like  a  custard  weak,  and  bears  no  weight ; 
But  had  it  not  that  wiping  feather  been 
The  poet's  lines  had  never  shone  so  clean. 
Wisdom  on  foot  ascends  by  slow  degrees ; 
But  wit  has  wings,  and  soars  aloft  with  ease. 
The  sweetest  wine  makes  vinegar  most  sour, 
So  wit  debased  is  hell's  consummate  power." 

Hope. 

"  Fountain  of  song,  it  prayer  begins  and  ends  ; 

Hope  is  the  wing  by  which  the  soul  ascends. 

Some  may  allege  I  wander  from  the  path, 

And  give  to  Hope  the  proper  rights  of  Faith. 

Like  love  and  friendship,  these,  a  comely  pair, 

What's  done  by  one,  the  other  has  a  share  : 

When  heat  is  felt,  we  judge  that  fire  is  near, 

Hope's  twilight  comes, — Faith's  day  will  soon  appear. 

Thus  when  the  Christian's  contest  doth  begin 

Hope  fights  with  doubts,  till  Faith's  reserves  come  in. 

Hope  comes  desiring  and  expects  relief; 

Faith  follows,  and  peace  springs  from  firm  belief. 

Hope  balances  occurrences  of  time  ; 

Faith  will  not  stop  till  it  has  reached  the  prime. 

Just  like  copartners  in  joint  stock  of  trade, 

What  one  contracts  is  by  the  other  paid. 

Make  use  of  Hope  thy  labouring  soul  to  cheer, 

Faith  shall  be  giv'n,  if  thou  wilt  persevere. 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.-JULY  It. 


94B 


We  see  all  things  alike  with  either  eye, 
So  Faith  and  Hope  the  self-same  object  spy. 
But  what  is  Hope  ?  or  where,  or  how  begun  ? 
It  comes  from  God,  as  light  comes  from  the  sun. 


H. 


In  consequence  of  this  interesting 
narrative  concerning  Thomas  Hogg,  the 
"  little  book — the  memorial  of  his  last 
days"  by  the  rev.  Mr.  Read,  was  pro- 
cured by  the  editor.  It  is  entitled  "  The 
Scottish  Wanderer,"  and  as  our  kind 
correspondent  "  H."  has  only  related  his 
own  observations,  probably  from  appre- 
hension that  his  narrative  might  be  deemed 
of  sufficient  length,  a  few  particulars  are 
extracted  from  Mr.  Read's  tract  respect- 
ing the  latter  days  of  this  "  singular  cha- 
racter." 

Mr.  Read  commences  his  "  Memoir 
of  Thomas  Hogg,"  by  saying — "  On 
Sunday  the  ninth  of  January  1820,  as  I 
was  proceeding  in  the  services  of  the  day, 
my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  wretched 
object  seated  in  the  nave  of  the  church. 
There  was  an  air  of  devout  seriousness 
about  him,  under  all  the  disadvantages 
of  tattered  garments  and  squalid  appear- 
ance, which  afforded  a  favourable  pre- 
sentiment to  my  mind.  When  the  service 
was  over  the  stranger  disappeared." 

Mr.  Read  conceived  that  he  was  some 

rr  passing  beggar,  who  had  been  allured 
the  fire  in  the  stove,  but  to  his  sur- 
prise on  the  following  Sunday  the  same 
object  presented  himself,  and  took  his 
station,  as  before,  near  the  stove.  He 
seemed  to  be  a  man  decrepit  with  age : 
his  head  resting  upon  Jiis  bosom,  which 
was  partly  exposed,  betokened  consider- 
able infirmity.  Under  a  coarse  and 
dirty  sackcloth  frock  was  to  be  seen  a 
soldier's  coat  patched  in  various  places, 
which  was  strangely  contrasted  with  the 
cleanliness  of  his  shirt.  His  whole  ap- 
pearance was  that  of  the  lowest  degree 
of  poverty.  His  devout  attention  induced 
Mr.  Read  when  the  service  was  con- 
cluded to  inquire  who  this  old  man  was. 
"  Sir,"  replied  his  informant,  "  he  is  a 
person  who  works  at  the  blacksmith's 
shop;  he  is  a  remarkable  man,  and 
carries  about  with  him  a  bible,  which  he 
constantly  reads." 

In  the  course  of  the  week  Mr.  Read 
paid  him  a  visit.  He  found  him  stand- 
ing by  the  side  of  the  forge,  putting  some 
links  of  iron-wire  together,  to  form  a 
chain  to  suspend  scissors.  The  impres- 


sions of  wretchedness  excited  by  his  first 
appearance  were  greatly  heightened  by 
the  soot,  which,  from  the  nature  of  his 
occupation,  had  necessarily  gathered  round 
his  person ;  and  after  a  few  general  ob- 
servations Mr.  Read  went  to  Mr.  H.  S., 
the  master  of  the  shop,  who  informed  him 
that  on  Tuesday  the  fourth  of  January,  in 
the  severely  cold  weather  which  then 
prevailed,  this  destitute  object  came  to 
his  shop,  almost  exhausted  with  cold  and 
fatigue.  In  his  passage  through  the 

neighbouring  village    of  P ,  he  had 

-been  inhumanly  pelted  with  snow-balls 
by  a  party  of  boys,  and  might  probably 
have  perished,  but  for  the  humanity  of 
some  respectable  inhabitants  of  the  place, 
who  rescued  him  from  their  hands.  Hav- 
ing reached  Mr.  S.'s  shop,  he  requested 
permission  to  erect,  in  a  shed  which 
adjoined  the  shop,  his  little  apparatus, 
consisting  of  a  slight  table,  with  a  box 
containing  his  tools.  The  benevolent 
master  of  the  premises  kindly  stationed 
him  near  the  forge,  where  he  might  pursue 
his  work  with  advantage.  In  the  even- 
ing, when  the  workmen  were  about  to 
retire,  Mr.  S.  asked  him  where  he  in- 
tended to  lodge  that  night.  The  old  man 
inquired  if  there  were  any  ox-stall  or 
stable  near  at  hand,  which  he  might  be 
permitted  to  occupy.  His  benefactor 
offered  his  stable,  and  the  poor  creature, 
with  his  box  and  table  upon  his  back, 
accompanied  Mr.  S.  home,  where  as 
comfortable  a  bed  as  fresh  straw,  and 
shelter  from  the  inclemency  of  the  weather, 
could  afford,  was  made  "up.  One  of  Mr. 
S/s  children  afterwards  carried  him  some 
warm  cider,  which  he  accepted  with  reluct- 
ance, expressing  his  fears  lest  he  should  be 
depriving  some  part  of  the  family  of  it. 

The  weather  was  very  cold :  the  ther- 
mometer, during  the  past  night,  had 
been  as  low  as  six  or  seven  degrees  of 
Fahrenheit.  In  the  morning  he  resumed 
his  post  by  the  side  of  the  forge.  Mr.  S 
allowed  him  to  retain  his  station  as  long 
as  he  needed  it ;  and  contracted  so  great 
a  regard  for  him,  as  to  declare,  that  he 
never  learned  so  complete  a  lesson  of 
humility,  contentment,  and  gratitude,  as 
from  the  conduct  of  this  man. 


949 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  11. 


950 


The  poor  fellow's  days  continued  to  be 
passed  much  in  the  manner  above  de- 
scribed ;  but  he  had  exchanged  the  stable, 
at  night,  for  the  shop,  which  was  warmer, 
as  soon  as  his  benevolent  host  was  satis- 
fied respecting  his  principles;  and  with 
exemplary  diligence  he  pursued  his  hum- 
ble employment  of  making  chains  and 
skewers.  He  usually  dined  on  hot  po- 
tatoes, or  bread  and  cheese,  with  occa- 
sionally half  a  pint  of  beer.  If  solicited 
to  take  additional  refreshment,  he  would 
decline  it,  saying,  "  I  am  thankful  for 
the  kindness,— but  it  would  be  intempe- 
rate." 

At  an  early  hour  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  first  Saturday  which  he  spent  in  this 
village,  he  put  by  his  work,  and  began  to 
hum  a  hymn  tune.  Mr.  S.  asked  him  if 
he  could  sing.  "  No,  sir,"  he  replied. 
"  I  thought,"  added  Mr.  S.,  "  I  heard 
you  singing."  "  I  was  only  composing 
?ny  thoughts  a  little,"  said  the  poor  man, 
'*  for  the  sabbath." 

On  Mr.  Read  being  informed  of  these 
particulars,  he  was  induced  to  return  to 
the  stranger  with  a  view  to  converse  with 
him.  He  says  "  There  was  a  peculiar 
bluntness  in  his  manner  of  expressing 
himself,  but  it  was  very  far  removed  from 
any  thing  of  churlishness  or  incivility. 
All  his  answers  were  pertinent,  and  were 
sometimes  given  in  such  measured  terms 
as  quite  astonished  me.  The  following 
•was  a  part  of  our  conversation. — '  Well, 
my  friend,  what  are  you  about  V  '  Mak- 
ing scissor-chains,  sir.'  <  And  how  long 
does  it  take  you  to  make  one  ?'  With 
peculiar  archness  he  looked  up  in  my 
face,  (for  his  head  always  rested  upon  his 
bosom,  so  that  the  back  part  of  it  was 
depressed  nearly  to  the  same  horizontal 
plane  with  his  shoulders,)  and  with  a 
complacent  smile,  said,  '  Ah !  and  you 
will  next  ask  me  how  many  I  make  in  a 
day ;  and  then  what  the  wire  costs  me  ; 
and  afterwards  what  I  sell  them  for/ 
From  the  indirectness  of  his  reply,  I  was 
induced  to  conclude  that  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  making  something  considerable 
from  his  employment,  and  wished  to 
conceal  the  amount  of  his  gains."  It 
appeared,  however,  that  he  was  unable, 
even  with  success  in  disposing  of  his 
wares,  to  earn  more  than  sixpence  or 
sevenpence  a  day,  and  that  his  apparent 
reluctance  to  make  known  his  poverty 
proceeded  from  habitual  contentment. 

Mr.  Read  asked  him,  why  he  followed 
a  vagrant  life,  in  preference  to  a  station- 


ary one,  in  which  he  would  le  better 
known,  and  more  respected?  "  The  na- 
ture of  my  business/'  he  replied,  "  re- 
quiref  that  I  should  move  about  from 
place  to  place,  that,  having  exhausted  my 
custom  in  one  spot,  I  may  obtain  employ- 
ment in  another.  Besides,"  added  he, 
"  my  mode  of  life  has  at  least  this  advan- 
tage, that  if  I  leave  my  friends  behind  me, 
I  leave  also  my  enemies." 

When  asked  his  age,  he  replied,  with  a 
strong  and  firm  voice,  "  That  is  a  ques- 
tion which  I  am  frequently  asked,  as  if 
persons  supposed  me  to  be  a  great  age  : 
why,  I  am  a  mere  boy." 

"  A  mere  bey !"  repeated  Mr.  Read ; 
"  and  pray  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ex- 
pression ?" — "  I  am  sixy-five  years  of  age, 
sir;  and  with  a  light  heel  and  a  cheerful 
heart,  hope  to  hold  out  a  considerable 
time  Jonger."  In  the  course  of  the  con- 
versation, he  said,  "  It  is  not  often  that  I 
am  honoured  with  the  visits  of  clergymen. 
Two  gentlemen,  however,  of  your  profes- 
sion once  came  to  me  when  I  was  at , 

in ,   and  I  expressed  a  hope  that  I 

should  derive  some  advantage  from  their 
conversation.  '  We  are  come/  said 
they,  '  with  the  same  expectation  to  you, 
for  we  understand  that  you  know  many 
things.'  I  told  them  that  I  feared  they 
would  be  greatly  disappointed."  He  then 
stated  that  the  old  scholastic  question  was 
proposed  to  him,  "  Why  has  God  given  us 
two  ears  and  one  mouth ?"  "I  replied," 
said  he,  "  that  we  may  hear  twice  as 
much  as  we  speak ;"  adding,  with  his  ac- 
customed modesty,  "  I  should  not  have 
been  able  to  have  given  an  answer  to  this 
question  if  I  had  not  heard  it  before." 

Before  they  parted,  Mr.  Read  lamented 
the  differences  that  existed  between  per- 
sons of  various  religious  persuasions. 
The  old  man  rejoined  in  a  sprightly  tone, 
"  No  matter ;  there  are  two  sides  to  the 
river."  His  readiness  in  reply  was  re- 
markable. Whatever  he  said  implied 
contentment,  cheerfulness,  and  genuine 
piety.  Before  Mr.  Read  took  leave  of 
him,  he  inquired  how  long  he  intended  to 
remain  in  the  village.  He  answered,  "  1 
do  not  know ;  but  as  I  have  house-room 
and  fire  without  any  tax,  I  am  quite  satis- 
fled  with  my  situation,  and  only  regret 
the  trouble  I  am  occasioning  to  my  kind 
host." 

Until  the  twentieth  of  the  month  Mr. 
Read  saw  but  little  of  him.  On  the 
morning  of  that  day  he  met  him  creeping 
along  under  a  vast  burden;  for  on  the  pre- 


951 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  11. 


952 


ceding  Monday  he  had  set  out  on  a  jour- 
ney to  Bristol,  to  procure  a  fresh  stock  of 
wire,  and  with  half  a  hundred  weight  of 
wire    upon    his    back,  and    threes  half- 
pence in  his  pocket,  the  sole  remains  of  his 
scanty  fund,  ne  was  now  returning  on  foot, 
after  having  passed  two  days  on  the  road, 
and  the  intervening  night  before  a  coal- 
pit fire  in  a  neighbouring  village.      The 
snow  was  deep  upon  the  ground,  and  the 
scene  indescribably  desolate.      Mr.  Read 
was  glad  to  see  him,  and  inquired  if  he 
were    not   very    tired.       "  A    little,    a 
little,"  he  replied,  and  taking  off  his  hat, 
he  asked  if  he  could  execute  any  thing  for 
me.      An  order  for  some  trifling  articles, 
brought  him  to  Mr.  Read  on  the  follow- 
ing Wednesday,  who  entered  into  conver- 
sation with  him,  and  says,  "  he  repeated 
many  admirable  adages,  with  which  his 
memory  appeared  to  be  well  stored,  and 
incidentally  touched  on  the  word  cleanli- 
ness.    Immediately  I  added,  '  cleanliness 
is    next   to   godliness ;'    and   seized   the 
opportunity  which  I  had  long  wanted,  but 
from  fear  of  wounding  his  mind  hesitated 
to  embrace,  to  tell  him  of  the  absence  of 
that  quality  in  himself.      He  with  much 
good   nature   replied,  '  I  believe    I  am 
substantially  clean.      I  have  a  clean  shirt 
every  week  :  my  business,  however,  ne- 
cessarily makes  me  dirty  in  my  person.' 
*  But  why  do  you  not  dress  more  tidily, 
arid  take  more  care  of  yourself?      You 
know  that  God  hath   given  us  the  com- 
forts of  life   that  we  may  enjoy  them. 
Cannot   you  afford  yourself  these  com- 
forts?' (  That  question/  said  he  emphati- 
cally,  but   by   no    means   rudely,  *  you 
should  have  set  out  with.     No,  sir,  I  can- 
not afford  myself  these  comforts/" 

Mr.  Read  perceiving  his  instep  to  be 
inflamed,  and  that  he  had  a  miserable 
pair  of  shoes,  pressed  a  pair  of  his  own 
upon  him. 

On  the  following  day  he  visited  him, 
and  found  him  working  upon  his  chains 
while  sitting, — a  posture  in  which  he  did 
not  often  indulge.  Mr.  Read  looked  at 
his  foot,  and  found  the  whole  leg  prodi- 
giously swollen  and  discoloured.  It  had 
inflamed  and  mortified  from  fatigue  of 
walking  and  inclemency  of  the  weather 
during  the  journey  to  Bristol.  Mr.  Read 
insisted  on  his  having  medical  assistance. 
*'  The  doctor  is  expected  in  the  village 
to-day,  and  you  must  see  him  :  I  will 
give  orders  for  him  to  call  in  upon  you.'* 
"  That  is  kind,  very  kind,"  he  replied. 
At  this  moment  an  ignorant  talker  in  the 


shop  exclaimed  in  a  vexatious  and  offen- 
sive manner,  that  he  would  not  have  such 
a  leg  (taking  off  his  hat)  "  for  that,  full  of 
guineas."  The  old  man  looked  up  some- 
what sharply  at  him,  and  said,  "  nor  I, 
if  I  could  help  it."  The  other,  however, 
proceeded  with  his  ranting.  The  afflicted 
man  added,  "  You  only  torture  me  by 
your  observations."  This  was  the  only 
instance  approaching  to  impatience  he 
manifested. 

It  appears  that  of  late  he  had  slept  in 
one  corner  of  the  workshop,  upon  the 
bare  earth,  without  his  clothes,  and  with 
the  only  blanket  he  had,  wrapped  round 
his  shoulders.  It  was  designed  to  pro- 
cure him  a  bed  in  a  better  abode  ;  but  he 
preferred  remaining  where  he  was,  and 
only  requested  some  clean  straw.  He 
seemed  fixed  to  his  purpose ;  every  thing 
was  arranged,  as  well  as  could  be,  for  his 
accommodation. 

Early  the  next  morning  Mr.  Read  found 
the  swelling  and  blackness  extending  them- 
selves rapidly  towards  the  vital  parts. 
The  poor  fellow  was  at  times  delirious, 
and  convulsed  ;  but  he  dozed  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  day.  It  was  perceived 
from  an  involuntary  gesture  of  the  medi- 
cal gentleman  on  his  entrance,  that  he 
had  not  before  witnessed  many  such  ob- 
jects. He  declared  there  was  but  little 
hope  of  life.  Warm  fomentations,  and 
large  doses  of  bark  and  port  wine  were 
administered.  A  bed  was  provided  in  a 
neighbouring  house,  and  Mr.  Read  in- 
formed the  patient  of  his  wish  to  remove 
him  to  it,  and  his  anxiety  that  he  should 
take  the  medicines  prescribed.  He  sub- 
mitted to  every  thing  proposed,  and 
added,  "  One  night  more,  and  I  shall  be 
beyond  the  clouds." 

On  the  Saturday  his  speech  was  almost 
unintelligible,  the  delirium  became  more 
frequent,  and  his  hands  were  often  ap- 
parently employed  in  the  task  to  which 
they  had  been  so  long  habituated,  making 
links  for  chains ;  his  respiration  became 
more  and  more  hurried ;  and  Mr.  Read 
ordered  that  he  should  be  allowed  to  re- 
main quite  quiet  upon  his  bed.  At  cer- 
tain intervals  his  mind  seemed  collected, 
and  Mr.  R.  soothed  him  by  kind  atten- 
tions. He  said,  "  There  are  your  spec- 
tacles ;  but  I  do  not  think  they  have 
brought  your  bible  ?  I  dare  say  you 
would  like  to  read  it?"  «'  By-and-by," 
he  replied  :  "  I  am  pretty  well  acquainted 
with  its  contents."  He  articulated  in- 
distinctly, appeared  exhausted,  and  or 


95  a 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  11. 


954 


Sunday  morning  his  death-knell  was  rung 
from  the  steeple.  He  died  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning  without  a  sigh. 
His  last  word  was,  in  answer  to  the  ques- 
tion, how  are  you? — "  Happy." 

A  letter  from  a  gentleman  of  Jedburgh, 
to  the  publishers  of  Mr.  Read's  tract, 
contains  the  following  further  particulars 
respecting  this  humble  individual. 

At  school  he  seldom  associated  with 
those  of  his  own  age,  and  rarely  took  part 
in  those  games  which  are  so  attractive  to 
the  generality  of  youth,  and  which  cannot 
be  condemned  in  their  own  place.  His 
declining  the  society  of  his  schoolfellows 
<Jid  not  seem  to  arise  from  a  sour  and  un- 
social temper,  nor  from  a  quarrelsome 
disposition  on  his  part,  but  from  a  love  of 
solitude,  and  from  his  finding  more  satis- 
faction in  the  resources  of  his  own  mind, 
than  in  all  the  noise  and  tumult  of  the 
most  fascinating  amusements. 

He  was,  from  his  youth,  noted  for 
making  shrewd  and  sometimes  witty  re- 
marks, which  indicated  no  ordinary  cast 
of  mind ;  and  in  many  instances  showed 
a  sagacity  and  discrimination  which  could 
not  be  expected  from  his  years.  He  was, 
according  to  the  expressive  language  of 
his  contemporaries,  an  "  auld  fan-end" 
boy.  He  began  at  an  early  period  to 
make  scissor- chains,  more  for  amusement 
than  for  profit,  and  without  ever  dream- 
ing that  to  this  humble  occupation  he 
was  to  be  indebted  for  subsistence  in  the 
end  of  his  days.  When  no  more  than 
nine  or  ten  years  of  age,  he  betook  him- 
self to  the  selling  of  toys  and  some  cheap 
articles  of  hardware ;  and  gave  reason  to 
hope,  from  his  shrewd,  cautious,  and  eco- 
nomical character,  that  he  would  gradu- 
ally increase  his  stock  of  goods,  and  rise 
to  affluence  in  the  world.  His  early  ac- 
quaintances, considering  these  things, 
cannot  account  for  the  extreme  poverty  in 
which  he  was  found  at  the  time  of  his 
death  He  appears  to  have  been  always 
inattentive  to  his  external  dress,  which,  at 
times,  was  ragged  enough ;  but  was  re- 
markable for  attention  to  his  linen — his 
shirts,  however  coarse,  were  always  clean. 
This  was  his  general  character  in  the  days 
of  his  youth.  On  his  last  visit  to  Jed- 
burgh,  twenty-nine  years  before  his  death, 
he  came  with  his  clothes  in  a  most 
wretched  condition.  His  sisters,  two  very 
excellent  women,  feeling  for  their  brother, 
and  concerned  for  their  own  credit,  got  a 


suit  of  clothes  made  without  delay. 
Dressed  in  this  manner,  he  continued  in 
the  place  for  some  time,  visiting  old  ac- 
quaintances, and  enjoying  the  society  of 
his  friends.  He  left  Jedburgh  soon  after  ; 
and,  from  that  time,  his  sisters  heard  no 
more  of  their  brother. 

Hogg's  father  was  not  a  native  of  Jed- 
burgh. Those  with  whom  I  have  con- 
versed seem  to  think  that  he  came  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  Selkirk,  and  was 
closely  connected  with  the  progenitor  of 
the  Ettrick  Shepherd.  He,  properly 
speaking,  had  no  trade ;  at  least  did  not 
practise  any :  he  used  to  travel  through 
the  country  with  a  pack  containing  some 
hardware  goods,  and  at  one  time  kept  a 
small  shop  in  Jedburgh.  All  accounts 
agree  that  the  father  had,  if  not  a  talent 
for  poetry,  at  least  a  talent  for  rhyming. 

He  appears  to  have  had  a  most  excel- 
lent mother,  whom  he  regularly  accom- 
panied to  their  usual  place  of  public  wor- 
ship, and  to  whom  he  was  indebted  for 
many  pious  and  profitable  instructions, 
which  seem  to  have  been  of  signal  service 
to  her  son  when  she  herself  was  numbered 
with  the  dead  and  mouldering  in  the 
dust, 

During  the  time  of  his  continuance  in 
Jedburgh  and  its  vicinity,  he  evinced  a 
becoming  regard  to  the  external  duties  of 
religion  ;  but  nothing  of  that  sublime  de- 
votion which  cheered  the  evening  of  his 
days,  and  which  caused  such  astonishing 
contentment  in  the  midst  of  manifold  pri- 
vations. My  own  belief  is,  from  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  that  the  pious 
efforts  of  his  worthy  mother  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  the  first  instance,  but  were  blessed 
for  his  benefit  at  an  advanced  period  of 
life.  The  extreme  poverty  to  which  he 
was  reduced,  and  the  corporal  ailments 
under  which  he  had  laboured  for  a  long 
time,  were  like  breaking  up  the  fallow 
ground,  and  causing  the  seed  which  had 
been  sown  to  vegetate. 


We  must  here  part  from  "  the  Scottish 
Wanderer/'  Some,  perhaps,  may  think  he 
might  have  been  dismissed  before — "  for 
what  was  he  ?"  He  was  not  renowned, 
for  he  was  neither  warrior  nor  statesman 
but  to  be  guileless  and  harmless  is  to  be 
happier  than  the  ruler  of  the  turbulent 


955 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  12, 


956 


and  more  honourable  than  the  leader  of 
an  army.  If  his  life  was  not  illustrious,  it 
was  wise;  for  he  could  not  have  been 
seen,  and  sojourned  in  the  hamlets  of 
labour  and  ignorance,  without  exciting 
regard  and  communicating  instruction.  He 
might  have  been  ridiculed  or  despised  on 
his  first  appearance,  but  where  he  re- 
mained he  taught  by  the  pithy  truth  of 
his  sayings,  and  the  rectitude  of  his  con- 
duct :  if  the  peripatetic  philosophers  of 
antiquity  did  so  much,  they  did  no  more. 
Few  among  those  who,  in  later  times, 
have  been  reputed  wise,  were  teachers  of 
practical  wisdom:  the  wisdom  of  the 
rest  was  surpassed  by  "  Cheap  Tommy's." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  64  •  07. 


12. 


A  Vicious  SWAN. 

In  July,  1731,  "an  odd  accident  hap- 
pened in  Bushy-park  to  one  of  the 
helpers  in  the  king's  stables,  riding  his 
majesty's  own  hunting  horse,  who  was 
frighted  by  a  swan  flying  at  him  out  of 
the  canal,  which  caused  him  to  run  away, 
and  dash  out  his  brains  against  the  iron 
gates  ;,  the  man  was  thrown  on  the  iron 
spikes,  which  only  entering  his  clothes 
did  him  no  hurt.  Some  time  before,  the 
same  swan  is  said  to  have  flown  at  his 
highness  the  duke,  but  caused  no  dis- 
aster."* 


This,  which  is  noticed  by  a  pleasant 
story  in  column  914  as  the  "  swan-hopping 
season,"  is  a  time  of  enjoyment  with 


who  are  fond  of  aquatic  pleasures.  On 
fine  days,  and  especially  since  the  inven- 
tion of  steam-boats,  crowds  of  citizens  and 
suburbans  of  London  glide  along  the 
Thames  to  different  places  of  entertain- 
ment on  its  banks. 


ANNUAL  EXCURSION  TO  TWICKENHAM. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, — As  it  is  the  object  of  the  Every- 
Day  Book  to  preserve  a  faithful  por- 
traiture of  the  prominent  features  and 
amusements  of  the  age,  as  well  as  the 
customs  of  the  "  olden  time,"  I  subjoin 
for  insertion  a  brief  account  of  an  unob- 
truding  society  for  the  relief  of  the  dis- 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


tressed ;  with  the  sincere  hope  that  its 
laudable  endeavours  may  be  followed  by 
many  others. 

-A  number  of  respectable  tradesmen, 
who  meet  to  pass  a  few  social  hours  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  Cross,  Bethnal-green, 
impressed  by  the  distresses  of  the  thickly- 
populated  district  in  which  they  reside, 
resolved  to  lay  themselves  and  friends 
under  a  small  weekly  contribution,  to 
alW,  as  far  as  possible,  the  wretchedness 
of  their  poorer  neighbours.  They  feel 
much  gratification  in  knowing  that  in 
the  course  of  two  years  their  exertions 
have  alleviated  the  sorrows  of  many 
indigent  families.  Nearly  four  hundred 
friends  have  come  forward  as  subscribers 
to  assist  them  in  their  praise-worthy 
undertaking;  yet  such  is  the  misery 
by  which  they  are  surrounded — such  are 
the  imperative  demands  on  their  bounty, 
that  their  little  fund  is  continually  im- 
poverished. 

In  furtherance  of"  their  benevolent 
views  they  projected  an  annual  excursion 
to  Twickenham,  sometime  in  the  month 
of  July  ;  the  profits  from  the  tickets  to  be 
devoted  to  the  Friend-in- Need  Society. 
I  have  joined  them  in  this  agreeable  trip, 
and  regard  the  day  as  one  of  the  happiest 
in  my  existence.  A  few  gentlemen  acted 
as  a  committee,  and  to  their  judicious 
arrangements  much  of  the  pleasure  of  the 
day  is  due.  The  morning  was  particu- 
larly favourable:  at  eight  o'clock  the 
"  Diana"  steam-packet  left  her  moorings 
off  Southwark-bridge,  and  bore  away  up 
the  river  with  her  long  smoky  pendant ; 
a  good  band  of  music  enlivened  the  scene 
by  popular  airs,  not  forgetting  the  eternal 
"  Jagher  chorus."  I  arrived  on  board  just 
at  starting,  and  having  passed  the  usual 
"  how  d'ye  does,"  seated  myself  to  observe 
the  happy  circle.  They  appeared  to  have 
left  "  old  care"  behind  them ;  the  laugh 
and  joke  resounded  from  side  to  side, 
and  happiness  dwelt  in  every  countenance. 
There  was  no  unnecessary  etiquette;  all 
were  neighbours  and  all  intimate.  As 
soon  as  we  began  to  get  clear  of  London, 
the  beautiful  scenery  formed  a  delightful 
panoramic  view.  Battersea,  Wands- 
worth,  Putney,  Kew,  and  Richmond, 
arose  in  succession;  when,  after  stay- 
ing a  short  time  at  the  latter  place  to 
allow  those  who  were  disposed  to  land, 
we  proceeded  on  to  Twickenham  Aite,  an 
island  delightfully  situated  in  the  middle 
of  the  Thames,  where  we  arrived  about 
twelve  o'clock.  Preparation  had  been 


95? 


THE  EVERYDAY  BOOK.— i  ULY   12. 


958 


made  for  our  reception :  the  boat  hauled 
up  alongside  the  island  for  the  better 
landing;  tents  were  erected  on  the  lawn; 
a  spacious  and  well- stocked  fruit-garden 
was  thrown  open  for  our  pleasure ;  and 
plenty  of  good  cheer  provided  by  "  mine 
host"  of  the  "  Eel-pie  house."  On  each 
side  of  the  lawn  might  be  seen  different 
parties  doing  ample  justice  to  "  ham 
sandwiches,  and  bottled  cider/'  After 
the  repast,  the  "  elder"  gentlemen  formed 
into  a  convivial  party ;  the  "  report  of 
the  society  "was  read  ;  and,  afterwards,  the 
song  and  glee  went  merrily  round ;  while 
the  younger  formed  themselves  in  array 
for  a  country-dance,  and  nimbly  footed 
to  the  sound  of  sweet  music  "  under  the 
greenwood  tree :"  the  more  juvenile  felt 
equal  delight  at  "  kiss-in-the-ring,"  on 
the  grass-plat. 

He  must  have  been  a  stoic  indeed  who 
could  have  viewed  this  scene  without  feel- 
ings of  delight,  heightened  as  it  was  by 
the  smiles  of  loveliness.  These  sports 
were  maintained  until  time  called  for  our 
departure ;  when  having  re-embarked,  the 
vessel  glided  heavily  back,  as  if  reluctant 
to  break  off  such  happy  hours.  The  dance 
was  again  renewed  on  board — the  same 
hearty  laugh  was  again  heard  ;  there  was 
the  same  exuberance  of  spirits  in  the 
juniors  ;  no  one  was  tired,  and  all  seemed 
to  regret  the  quickly  approaching  separa- 
tion. About  nine  o'clock  we  safely  landed 
from  the  boat  at  Queenhithe  stairs,  and 
after  a  parting  "  farewell,"  each  pursued 
the  way  home,  highly  delighted  with  the 
excursion  of  the  day,  enhanced  as  it  was 
by  the  reflection,  that  in  the  pursuit  of 
pleasure  we  had  assisted  the  purposes  of 
charity.  J.  H.  C. 

Kingsland-road,  July,  1826. 


SWAN-HOPPING. 

It  appears  that  formerly — "  When  the 
citizens,  in  gaily-decorated  barges,  went 
up  the  river  annually  in  August,  to  mark 
and  count  their  swans,  which  is  called 
swan-hopping,  they  used  to  land  at  Barn 
Elms,  and,  after  partaking  of  a  cold  colla- 
tion on  the  grass,  they  merrily  danced 
away  a  few  hours.  This  was  a  gala-day 
for  the  village ;  and  happy  was  the  lad  or 
lass  admitted  into  the  party  of  the  fine 
folks  of  London.  This  practice  has,  how- 
ever, been  long  discontinued."* 


Gentleman's  Magazine. 


"  SWAN-HOPPING  " — Explained. 

The  yearly  visit  of  members  of  the  cor- 
poration of  London  to  the  swans  on  its 
noble  river,  is  commonly  termed  "  Swan- 
Aopping."  This  name  is  a  vulgar  and 
long  used  corruption  of  "  Swan-taping," 
signifying  the  duties  of  the  official  visiters, 
which  was  to  "  take  up"  the  swans  arid 
mark  them.  The  ancient  and  real  term 
may  be  gathered  from  the  old  laws  con- 
cerning swans,  to  have  been  technically 
and  properly  used.  They  were  manorial 
and  royal  birds ;  and  in  proof  of  thek 
estimation  in  former  times,  a  rare  and 
valuable  quarto  tract  of  four  leaves, 
printed  in  1570,  may  be  referred  to.  It 
mentions  the  "  vpping  daies ;"  declares 
what  persons  shall  "  vp  no  swannes ;"  and 
speaks  of  a  court  no  longer  popularly 
known,  namely,  "  the  king's  majesties 
justices  of  sessions  of  swans."  This 
curious  tract  is  here  reprinted  verbatim, 
viz : — 


for 

both  by 

THE  STATUTES,  AND  BY  THE  AUNCIENT 
ORDERS  AND  CUSTOMES,  USED  WITHIN 
THE  REALME  OF  ENGLAND. 

THE  ORDER  FOR  SWANNES. 

First,  Ye  shall  enquire  if  there  be  any 
person  that  doth  possesse  any  Swanne, 
and  hath  not  compounded  with  the 
Kings  Maiesty  for  his  Marke  (that  is  to 
say)  six  shillings  eight  pence,  for  his 
Marke  during  his  life  :  If  you  know 
any  such  you  shall  present  them,  that 
all  such  Swans  and  Cignets,  may  be 
seazed  to  the  King. 

2.  Also  you  shall  enquire,  if  any  person 
doth  possesse  any  Swan,  or  Cignet,  that 
may   not   dispend    the    cleare   yearly 
value  of  five  Markes  of  Freehold,  ex- 
cept Heire  apparant  to  the  Crowne  : 
then  you  shall  present  him.     22  Edw. 
iv.  cap.  6. 

3.  Also,  If  any  person  or    persons  doe 
drive  away  any  Swanne  or  Swannes, 
breeding  or   prouiding  to  breed  ;  be  it 
vpon  his  own  ground  ;  or  any  other 
mans  ground  :  he  or  they  so  offending, 
shall  suffer  one  yeeres  imprisonment, 
and  fine  at  the  Kings  pleasure,  thir- 


959 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  12. 


960 


teene   shillings  four  pence.     11   Hen. 
vii. 

4.  If  there  be  found  any  Weares  vpon  the 
Riuers,  not  hauing  any  Grates  before 
them ;  It  is  lawfull  for  every  Owner, 
Swan-Masters,    or   Swanne-herdes,   to 

Sill  vp,  or  cut  downe  the  Birth-net,  or 
y.arie  of  the  said  Weare  or  Weares. 

5.  If  any  person,  or  persons,  be  found 
carrying  any  Swan-hooke,  and  the  same 
person  being  no  Swan-herd,  nor  accom- 
panied with  two   Swan-herds:    every 
such  person  shall  pay  to  the  King.  Thir- 
teene  shillings  four  pence,  (that  is  to 
say)  Three  shillings  foure  pence  to  him 
that  will  informe,  and  the  rest  to  the 
King. 

6.  The  auncient  custome  of  this  Realme 
hath  and  dothe  allow  to  every  owner 
of  such  ground  where  any  such  Swan 
shall   heirie,  to  take   one  Land-bird; 
and  for  the  same,  the  Kings  Maiestie 
must  have  of  him  that,  hath  the  Land- 
bird,   Twelve   pence,   Be   it  vpon  his 
owne  ground,  or  any  other. 

7.  It  is  ordained,  that  if  any  person,  or 
persons,  do  convey  away  or  steale  away 
the  Egge,  or  Egges  of  any  Swannes, 
and  the  same  being  duely  proued  by 
two  sufficient  witnesses,  that  then  euery 
such  offender  shall   pay  to  the  King 
thirteene    shillings    foure    pence,    for 
euery  Egge  so  taken  out  of  the  Nest  of 
nny  Swanne. 

8.  It  is  ordained,  that  euery  owner  that 
hath  any  Swans,  shall  pay  euery  yeare 
yearly   for  euery   Swan-marke,    foure 
pence  to  the  Master  of  the  Game  for 
his  Fee,  and  his  dinner  and  supper  free 
on  the  Upping  daies :  And  if  the  saide 
Master  of  the  Game  faile  of  the  foure 
pence,  then  he  shall  distraine  the  Game 
of  euery  such  owner,  that  so  doth  faile 
of  payment. 

9.  If  there  be  any  person  or  persons,  that 
hath  Swannes,  that  doe  heirie  vpon  any 
of  their  seuerall  waters,  and  after  come 
to  the  co'mon  Riuer,  they  shall  pay  a 
Land-bird  to  the  King,  and  be  obedient 
to  all  Swanne  Lawes :  for  diuers  such 
persons  doe  use  collusion,  to  defraud 
the  King  of  his  right. 

10.  It  is   ordained,   that   euery   person, 
hauing  any  Swans,  shal  begin  yearly  to 
•nark,  the  Monday  next  after  St.  Peters 
day,  and  no  person  before ;  but  after 
as  conueniently   may  be,  so  that  the 
Master  of  the  Kings  Game,  or  his  De-. 
puty,   be  present.     And   if  any   take 
vpon  him   or    them,    to    marke    any 


Swanne  or  Cignet,  in  other  manner, 
to  forfeit  to  the  Kings  Maieslie  for 
euery  Swan  so  marked  fortie  shillings. 

11.  It  is  ordained,  that  no  person  or  per- 
sons being   Owners,   or   Deputies,  or 
seruants  to  them,  or  other,  shall  go  on 
marking    without   the    Master   of  the 
Game,  or  his  Deputie  be  present,  with 
other  Swan-herds  next  adioyning,  vpon 
paine  to  forfeit  to  the  Kings  Maiesty, 
fortie  shillings. 

12.  It  is  ordained,  that  no  person  shall 
hunt  any  Duckes,  or  any  other  chase 
in  the  water,   or  neere  the  haunt  of 
Swans  in  Fence-time,  with  any  Dogge 
or   Spaniels :    viz.    from   the   feast   of 
Piaster   to   Lammas :    vpon   paine   for 
euery  time  so  found  in  hunting,  to  for- 
feit sixe  shillings  eight  pence. 

13.  It  is  ordained,  that  if  any  person  doth 
set  any  snares  or  any  manner  of  Nets. 
Lime,  or  Engines,  to  take  Bittorns  or 
Swans,  from  the  Feast  of  Easter  to  the 
Sunday  after  Lammas  day  ;  He  or  they 
to   forfeit  to   the    Kings   Maiestie  for 
euery  time  so  setting,  six  shillings  eight 
pence. 

14.  It  is  ordained  that  no  person  take  vp 
any  Cignet  unmarked,  or  make   any 
sale  of  them,  but  that  the  Kings  Swan- 
herd,  or  his  Deputie  be  present,  with 
other  Swan-herds  next  adioyning,   or 
haue  knowledge  of  the   same:    vpon 
paine  to  forfeit  to  the  Kings  Maiestie 
fortie  shillings. 

15.  It  is  ordained  that  the  Swan-herdes 
of  the  Duchie  of  Lancaster,  shall  vp  no 
Swannes,  or  make  any  sale  of  them, 
without  the  Master  of  the  Swannes  or 
his  Deputy  be  present :  vpon  paine  to 
forfeite  to   the   Kings    Maiestie   forty 
shillings. 

16.  And  in  like  manner,  the  Kings  Swan- 
herd  shal  not  enter  into  the  Libertie  of 
the  Duchie,  without  the  Duchies  Swan- 
herd  be  there  present :  vpon  the  like 
paine  to  forfeite  forty  shillings. 

17.  It  is  ordained,  that  if  any  Swannes  or 
Cignets  be  found  double  marked,  they 
shall  be  seaz'd  to  the  Kings  vse,  till  it 
be  prooved  to  whom  the  same  Swans 
or  Cignets  doe  belong  :  And  if  it  can- 
not be  prooved  to  whome  they   doe 
belong,  that  then  they  be  seazd  for  the 
King,  and  his  Grace  to  be  answered  to 
the  value  of  them. 

18.  It  is  ordained  that  no  person  make 
sale  of  any  white  Swans  nor  make  de- 
livery of  them,  without  the  Master  of 
the  Game  be  present  or  his  Deputy, 


961 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK-— JULY  12. 


962 


with  other  Swan-herds  next  adioyning ; 
vpon  paine  to  forfiet  forty  shillings : 
whereof  six  shillings  eight  pence  to  him 
that  will  informe:  and  the  rest  to  the 
Rings  Maiestie. 

1 9.  It  is  ordained,  that  no  person  shall 
lay  Leapes,  set  any  Nets,  or  Dragge, 
within  the  common  streames  or  Riuers 
vpon  the  day  time,  from  the  Feast  of 
the  Inuention  of  the  Crossse,  vnto  the 
Feast  of  Lammas  :  vpon  paine  so  oft 
as  they  be  found  so  offending,  to  forfeit 
twenty  shillings. 

20.  It  is  ordained,  that  if  the  Master  of 
the  Swans,  or  his  Deputy,  do  seaze,  or 
take  vp  any  Swa'nes,  as  strayes,  for  the 
Kings  Maiesty,  that  he  shall  keepe  them 
in   a   Pit  within  twenty  foote  of  the 
Kings  streame,  cr  within  twenty  foote 
of  the   common    High-way,    that   the 
Kings  subiects  may  have  a  sight  of  the 
said  Swans  so  seazed,  vpon  paine  of 
forty  shillings. 

21.  It  is  ordained,  that  if  any  person  doe 
raze  out,  counterfeit,  or  alter  the  Marke 
of  any  Swanne,  to    the  hindering  or 
losse  of  any  mans  Game,  and  any  such 
offender  duly  prooved  before  the  Kings 
Maiesties  Commissioners  of  Swannes, 
shal  suffer  one  yeares   imprisonment, 
and    pay    three   pounds    six    shillings 
eight  pence,  to  the  King, 

22.  It  is  ordained,   that   the  Commons 
(that  is  to  say)  Dinner  and  Supper, 
shall  not  exceed  above  twelve  pence  a 
man  at  the  most :  If  there  be  any  Game 
found  where  the  dinner  or  supper  is 
holden,  vpon    that   Iliuer,   the   owner 
being  absent  and  none  there  for  him, 
the  Master  of  the  Game  is  to  lay  out 
eight  pence  for  him,  and  he  is  to  dis- 
traine  the  Game  of  him  that  faileth  the 
paiment  of  it. 

23.  It  is  ordained,  that  there  shall  be  no 
forfeiture  of  any  white  Swanne  or  Cig- 
uet,  but  only  to  the  Kings  Grace,  as 
well  within  the  Franchise  and  Liber- 
ties, as  without,  and  if  any  doe  deliver 
the  Swanne  or  Signet  so  seazed,  to  any 
person,  but  only  to  the  Master  of  the 
Kings  Game,  or  to  his  Deputy,  to  the 
Kings  vse;  he  is  to  forfeit  sixe  shillings 
eight  pence ;  and  the  Swannes  to  be 
restored  vnto  the  Master  of  the  Game. 

24.  It  is  ordained,  that  no  person  shall 
take  any  Gray  Swans,  or  Cignets,  or 
white  Swans  flying,  but  that  he  shall 
within  foure  dayes  next  after,  deliver 
it,  or  them,  to  the  Master  of  the  Kings 
Game,  an^  the  Taker  to  haue  for  his 

VOL.  It.~  83. 


paines  eight  pence.  And  if  he  faile, 
and  bring  him  not,  he  forfeits  forty 
shillings  to  the  King. 

25.  It  is  ordained,  that  no  person,  having 
any   Game  of  his  own    shall  not   be 
Swan-herd  for  himselfe ;  nor  keeper  of 
any  other  mans  Swannes:  upon  paine 
to  forfeit  to  the  Kings  Maiestie  forty 
shillings. 

26.  It  is  ordained,  that  no   Swan-herd, 
fisher,  or  fowler,  shall  vex  any  other 
Swan-herd,  fisher  or  fowler,  by  way  of 
action,  but  only  before  the  Kings  Ma- 
iesties  Justices  of  Sessions  of  Swans, 
vpon  paine  of  forfeiting  to  the  Kings 
Grace  forty  shillings. 

27.  The  Master  of  the  Kings  Game,  shal 
not  take  away   any   vnmarked    Swan 
coupled  with  any  other  mans  Swan, 
for  breaking  of  the  brood:  and  when 
they  doe  Heirie,  the  one  part  of  the 
Cignets  to  the  King,  and  the  other  to 
the  owner  of  the  marked  Swanne. 

28.  Also,  any  man  whatsoever  he  be,  that 
killeth    any   Swanne   with   dogge,   o^ 
Spaniels,  shall  forfeit  to  the  King  forf  i 
shillings,  the  owner  of  the  Dogge  i* 
pay  it,   whether  he  be   there   or  no. 
Also,  the  Maister  of  the  Swannes,  is  to 
have   for    every   White   Swaiine    and 
Gray  vpping,  a  penny,  and  for  every 
Cignet  two  pence. 

29.  It  is  ordained,  that  if  any  Heirie  be 
leyed  with  one  Swan,  the  Swan  and  the 
Cignets  shall  be  seazed  for  the  King, 
till  due  proofe  be  had  whose  they  are, 
and  whose  was  the  Swan,  that  is  away ; 
Be  it  Cobbe  or  Pen. 

30.  Lastly,  If  there  be  any  other  misde- 
•      meanour,  or  offence  committed  or  done 

by  the  owner  of  any  Game,  Swan-herd, 
or  other  per.con  whatsoeuer,  contrary  to 
any  law,  ancient  custome,  or  vsage 
heretofore  vsed  and  allowed,  and  not 
before  herein  particularly  mentioned  or 
expressed,  you  shal  present  the  same 
offence,  that  reformation  may  be  had, 
and  the  offendors  punished,  according 
to  the  quantitie  and  qualitie  of  the 
seuerall  offences. 

FINIS. 
God  Saue  the  King. 


It  may  be  presumed  that  "  the  Order 
for  Swannes "  fairly  illustrates  the  origin 
of  the  term  t(  swan  Aojaping ;"  perhaps 
the  "  order"  itseif  will  be  regarded 
by  some  of  the  readers  of  the  EveryDtty 
Book  as  "  a  singular  rarity." 


903 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  12. 


964 


«  SWAN  WITH  TWO  NECKS," 

Lad-lane. 

The  sign  of  the  "Swan  with  two 
necks,"  at  one  of  our  old  city  inns,  from 
whence  there  are  "  passengers  and  parcels 
booked "  to  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  is 
manifestly  a  corruption.  As  every  swan 
belonging  to  the  king  was  marked,  ac- 
cording to  the  swan  laws,  with  two  nicks  or 
notches;  so  the  old  sign  oT  this  inn  was 
the  royal  bird  so^  marked,  that  is  to  say, 
"  the  swan  with  two  nicks"  In  process 
of  time  the  "  two  nicks  "  were  called  "  two 
necks  ;"  an  ignorant  landlord  hoisted  the 
foul  misrepresentation;  and,  at  the  present 
day,  "  the  swan  with  two  nicks"  is 
commonly  called  or  known  by  "  the 
name  or  sign "  of  "  the  swan  with  two 
necks." 

"  A  Southern  Tourist,"  in  the  "  Gentle- 
man's Magazine,"  for  1793,  giving  an 
account  of  his  summer  rambles,  which  he 
calls  "  A  naturalist's  stray  in  the  sultry 
days  of  July,"  relates  that  he  "  put  up 
for  the  night  at  the  Bush-inn,  by  Staines- 
bridge,"  and  describes  his  sojournment 
there  with  such  mention  of  the  swans  as 
seems  fitting  to  extract. 

"  The  Swan  at  Staines" 

"  This  inn  is  beautifully  situated  :  a 
translucent  arm  of  the  Thames  runs  close 
under  the  windows  of  the  eating-rooms, 
laving  the  drooping  streamers  of  the 
Babylonian  willows  that  decorate  the 
garden,  and  which  half  conceal  the  small 
bridge  leading  into  it.  In  these  windows 
we  spent  the  evening  in  angling  gudgeons 
for  our  supper,  and  in  admiring  a  com- 
pany of  swans  that  were  preening  them- 
selves near  an  aite  in  the  river.  The 
number  of  these  birds  on  the  Thames  is 
very  considerable,  all  swimming  between 
Marlow  and  London,  being  protected  by 
the  dyers  and  vintner's  companies,  whose 
properties  they  are.  These  companies 
annually  send  to  Marlow  six  wherries, 
manned  by  persons  authorized  to  count 
and  to  mark  the  swans,  who  are  hence 
denominated  swan-hoppers.  The  task 
assigned  them  is  rather  difficult  to  per- 
form ;  for,  the  swans  being  exceeding 
strong,  scuffling  with  them  amongst  the 
tangles  of  the  river  is  rather  dangerous, 
and  recourse  is  obliged  to  be  had  to  cer- 
tain strong  crooks,  shaped  like  those  we 
suppose  the  Arcadian  shepherds  to  have 
used" 


The  swan  is  a  royal  bird,  and  often 
figured  in  the  princely  pleasures  of  former 
kings  of  England. 

In  Edward  the  fourth's  time  none  was 
permitted  to  keep  swans,  who  possessed 
not  a  freehold  of  at  least  five  marks  yearly 
value,  except  the  king's  son  :  and  by  an 
act  of  Henry  the  Seventh,  persons  con- 
victed of  taking  their  eggs  were  liable  to 
a  year's  imprisonment,  and  a  fine  at  the 
will  of  the  sovereign.* 

More  anciently,  if  a  swan  was  stolen  in 
an  open  and  common  river,  the  same  swan 
or  another,  according  to  old  usage,  was 
to  be  hanged  in  a  house  by  the  beak,  and 
he  who  stole  it  was  compelled  to  give  the 
owner  as  much  corn  as  would  cover  the 
swan,  by  putting  and  turning  the  corn 
upon  the  head  of  the  swan,  until  the  head 
of  the  swan  was  covered  with  corn.f 


In  the  hard  winter  of  1726,  a  swan 
was  killed  "  at  Emsworth,  between  Chi- 
chester  and  Portsmouth,  lying  on  a  creek 
of  the  sea,  that  had  a  ring  round  its  neck, 
with  the  king  of  Denmark's  arms  on  it."  j 

For  indications  of  the  weather,  by  the 
flight  of  the  swans  on  the  Thames,  see 
vol.  i.  col.  505. 

It  is  mentioned  by  the  literary  lord 
Northampton,  as  formerly  "  a  paradox  of 
simple  men  to  thinke  that  a  swanne  can- 
not hatch  without  a  cracke  of  thunder."!! 


THE  SWAN'S  DEATH  SONG. 

The  car  of  Juno  is  fabled  to  have  been 
drawn  by  swans.  They  were  dedicated 
to  Venus  and  Apollo.  To  the  latter, 
according  to  Bamer,  because  they  were 
"  reckoned  to  have  by  instinct  a  faculty 
of  prediction  ;"  but  it  is  possible  that 
they  were  consecrated  to  the  deity  of 
music,  from  their  fabled  melody  at  the 
moment  of  death, 

BufTon  says,  the  ordinary  voice  of  the 
tame  swan  is  rather  low  than  canorous. 
It  is  a  sort  of  creaking,  exactly  like  what 
is  vulgarly  called  the  swearing  of  a  cat, 
and  which  the  ancients  denoted  by  the 
imitative  word  drensare.  It  would  seem 
to  be  an  accent  of  menace  or  anger ;  nor 
does  its  love  appear  to  have  a  softer.  In  the 


*  Buffon,  note. 

t  Cowel. 

t  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

il  Brand. 


965 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  12,  . 


966 


"  Me'moires  de  1'Academie  des  Inscrip- 
tions" is  a  dissertation  by  M.  Morin,  en- 
titled, "  Why  swans,  which  sung  so  well 
formerly,  sing  so  ill  now." 

The  French  naturalist  further  remarks, 
that  "  swans,  almost  mute,  like  ours  in 
the  domestic  state,  could  not  be  those 
melodious  birds  which  the  ancients  have 
celebrated  and  extolled.  But  the  wild 
swan  appears  to  have  better  preserved  its 
prerogatives ;  and  with  the  sentiment  of 
entire  liberty,  it  has  also  the  tones.  The 
bursts  of  its  voice  form  a  sort  of  modulated 
song."  He  then  cites  the  observations 
of  the  abbe  Arnaud  on  the  song  of  two 
wild  swans  which  settled  on  the  magni- 
ficent pools  of  Chantilly.  "  One  can 
hardly  say  that  the  swans  of  Chantilly 
sing,  they  cry ;  but  their  cries  are  truly 
and  constantly  modulated  ;  their  voice  is 
not  sweet ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  shrill, 
piercing,  and  rather  disagreeable ;  I  could 
compare  it  to  nothing  better  than  the 
sound  of  a  clarionet,  winded  by  a  person 
unacquainted  with  the  instrument.  Al- 
most all  the  melodious  birds  answer  to 
the  song  of  man,  and  especially  to  the 
sound  of  instruments :  I  played  long  on 
the  violin  beside  our  swans,  on  all  the 
tones  and  chords.  I  even  struck  unison  to 
their  own  accents,  without  their  seeming 
to  pay  the  smallest  attention :  but  if  a 
goose  be  thrown  into  the  basin  where 
they  swim  with  their  young,  the  male, 
after  emitting  some  hollow  sounds,  rushes 
impetuously  upon  the  goose,  and  seizing 
it  by  the  neck,  plunges  the  head  re- 
peatedly under  water,  striking  it  at  the 
same  time  with  his  wings ;  it  would  be 
all  over  with  the  goose,  if  it  were  not 
rescued.  The  swan,  with  his  wings  ex- 
panded, his  neck  stretched,  and  his  head 
erect,  comes  to  place  himself  opposite  to 
his  female,  and  utters  a  cry,  to  which  the 
female  replies  by  another,  which  is  lower 
by  half  a  tone.  The  voice  of  the  male 
passes  from  A  (la)  to  B  flat  (si  btmol}  ; 
that  of  the  female,  from  G  sharp  (sol 
dtise)  to  A.  The  first  note  is  short  and 
transient,  and  has  the  effect  of  that  which 
our  musicians  call  sensible  ;  so  that  it  is 
not  detached  from  the  second,  but  seems 
to  slip  into  it.  Fortunately  for  the  ear, 
they  do  not  both  sing  at  once;  in  fact,  if 
while  the  male  sounded  B  flat,  the  female 
struck  A,  or  if  the  male  uttered  A,  while 
the  female  gave  G  sharp,  there  would  re- 
sult the  harshest  and  most  insupportable 
of  discords.  We  may  add,  that  this  dia- 
logue is  subjected  to  a  constant  and 


regular  rhythm,  with  the  measure  of  two 
times." 

M.  Grouvelle  observes,  that*"  there  is 
a  season  when  the  swans  assemble  toge- 
ther, and  form  a  sort  of  commonwealth  ; 
it  is  during  severe  colds.  When  the  frost 
threatens  to  usurp  their  domain,  they  con- 
gregate and  dash  the  water  with  all  the 
extent  of  their  wings,  making  a  noise 
which  is  heard  very  far,  and  which,  whether 
in  the  night  or  the  day,  is  louder  in  pro- 
portion as  it  freezes  more  intensely.  Their 
efforts  are  so  effectual,  that  there  are  few 
instances  of  a  flock  of  swans  having 
quitted  the  water  in  the  longest  frosts, 
though  a  single  swan,  which  has  strayed 
from  the  general  body,  has  sometimes 
been  arrested  by  the  ice  in  the  middle  of 
the  canals.'* 


Buffon  further  remarks,  that  the  shrill 
and  scarcely  diversified  notes  of  the  loud 
clarion  sounds,  differ  widely,  from  the  ten- 
der melody,  the  sweet  and  brilliant 
variety  of  our  chanting  birds.  Yet  it  was 
not  enough  that  the  swan  sung  admirably, 
the  ancients  ascribed  to  it  a  prophetic 
spirit.  It  alone,  of  animated  beings, 
which  all  shudder  at  the  prospect  of  de- 
struction, chanted  in  the  moment  of  its 
agony,  and  with  harmonious  sounds  pre- 
pared to  breathe  the  last  sigh.  They  said 
that  when  about  to  expire,  and  to  bid  a 
sad  and  tender  adieu  to  life,  the  swan 
poured  forth  sweet  and  affecting  accents, 
which,  like  a  gentle  and  doleful  murmur, 
with  a  voice  low,  plaintive,  and  melan- 
choly, formed  its  funeral  song.  This 
tearful  music  was  heard  at  the  dawn  of 
day,  when  the  winds  and  the  waves  were 
still :  and  they  have  been  seen  expiring 
with  the  notes  of  their  dying  hymn.  No 
fiction  of  natural  history,  no  fable  of  anti- 
quity, was  ever  more  celebrated,  oftener 
repeated,  or  better  received.  It  occupied 
the  soft  and  lively  imaginations  of  the 
Greeks  :  poets,  orators,  even  philosophers 
adopted  it  as  a  truth  too  pleasing  to  be 
doubted.  And  well  may  we  excuse  such 
fables  ;  they  were  amiable  and  affecting  ; 
they  were  worth  many  dull,  insipid  truths; 
they  were  sweet  emblems  to  feeling  minds. 
The  swan,  doubtless,  chants  not  its  ap- 
proaching end  ;  but,  in  speaking  of  the 
last  flight,  the  expiring  effort  of  a  fine 
genius,  we  shall  ever,  with  tender  melan- 
choly, recal  the  classical  and  pathetic  ex- 
pression, "  It  is  the  song  of  the  swan  I" 


967  tHE  EVERY-DAf  BOOK.—  JULY  12.  96* 

Shakspeare   nobly   likens   our   island     dying    frenzy  "  he    sung,"  —  the    prince 
to  the  eyrie  of  the  royal  bird  :  —  answers  — 

----  1'  the  world's  volume  -  'Tis  strange  that  death  should  sing.— 

Our  Britain  seems  as  of  it,  but  not  in  it  ;  I  am  the  cygnet  to  this  pale  faint  swan, 

In  a  great  pool,  a  swan's  nest.  Who  chants  a  doleful  hymn  to  his  own  death  ; 

And  from  the  organ-pipe  of  frailty,  sings 

Nor  can  we  fail  to  remember  his  beau-  His  soul  and  body  to  their  lasting  rest. 
tiful  allusions  to  the   swan's   death-song. 

Portia    orders  "  sweet    music"    during  -- 

Bassanio's  deliberation  on  the  caskets  :-  ^  ^  of  „  paradise 


Then  if  he  lose,  he  makes  a  swan-like  end—      Between  her  white  wings  mantling,  proudly 

Her  state  with  oary  feet  :  yet  oft  they  quit 

And  after  the  Moor  has  slain  his  inno-     The  dank,  and  rising  on  stiff  pennons,  toar 
cent  bride,  Emilia  exclaims  while  her     The  mid  sereal  sky. 
heart  is  breaking,  and  sings  —  _ 

Hark,  «jnrt  tho-i  hear  mel    I  will  play  the         Opportunities  for  observing  the  flight 

And  dieTn'music-  Willow,  willow,  willow.        of  .  the  wild  swan  are  seldom,  and  hence 

it  is  seldom  mentioned  by  our  poets.  The 

After    *'  King   John  "     is    poisoned,     migrations  of  other  aquatic  birds  are  fre- 
his  son,  prince  Henry,  is  told  that  in  his     quent  themes  of  their  speculation. 

To  A  WATER-FOWL. 
Whither,  'midst  falling  dew, 
While  glow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of  day, 
Far  through  their  rosy  depths,  dost  thou  pursue 

Thy  solitary  way  ? 
Vainly  the  fowler's  eye 

Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  tliee  wrong, 
As  darkly  painted  on  the  crimson  sky 
Thy  figure  floats  along. 

Seek'st  thou  the  plashy  brink 
Of  weedy  lake,  or  maize  of  river  wide, 
Or  where  the  rocky  billows  rise  and  sink 

On  the  chafed  ocean's  side  ? 
There  is  a  Power  whose  care 
Teaches  thy  way  along  that  pathless  coast,— 
The  desert  and  illimitable  air,  — 
Lone  wandering,  but  not  lost. 

AH  day  thy  wings  have  fann'd, 
At  that  far  height,  the  cold  thin  atmosphere  ; 
Yet  stoop  not,  weary  to  the  welcome  land, 

Though  the  dark  night  is  near. 
And  soon  that  toil  shall  end  ; 
Soon  shall  thou  find  a  summer  home,  and  rest, 
And  scream  among  thy  fellows;  reeds  shall  bend 
Soon  o'er  thy  shelter'd  nest. 

Thou'rt  gone,  the  abyss  of  heaven 
Hath  swallow'd  up  thy  form  ;  yet  on  my  heart 
Deeply  hath  sunk  the  lesson  thou  hast  given, 

And  shall  not  soon  depart. 
He,  who  from  zone  to  zone 

guides  through  the  boundless  sky  the  certain  flight, 
In  the  long  way  that  I  must  tread  alone, 
Will  lead  my  steps  aright. 


969 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  13. 14. 


970 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  64  • 


13. 


THE  CORNISH  FALSTAFF. 
For   the  Every-Day  Book. 

Anthony  Payne,  the  Falstaff  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  was  born  in  the  manor- 
house  at  Stratton,  in  Cornwall,  where  he 
died,  and  was  buried  in  the  north  aisle  of 
Stratton  church,  the  13th  of  July,  1691. 
In  early  life  he  was  the  humble,  but 
favourite  attendant  of  John,  eldest  son  of 
sir  Beville  Granville,  afterwards  earl  of 
Bath,  whom  he  accompanied  throughout 
many  of  his  loyal  adventures  and  cam- 
paigns during  the  revolution  and  usurpa- 
tion of  Cromwell.  At  the  age  of  twenty 
he  measured  the  extraordinary  height  of 
seven  feet  two  inches,  with  limbs  and 
body  in  proportion,  and  strength  equal 
to  his  bulk  and  stature.  The  firmness  of 
his  mind,  and  his  uncommon  activity  of 
person,  together  with  a  large  fund  of  sar- 
castic pleasantry,  were  well  calculated  to 
cheer  the  spirits  of  his  noble  patron  during 
the  many  sad  reverses  and  trying  occasions 
which  he  experienced  after  the  restora- 
tion. His  lordship  introduced  Payne  to 
Charles  the  Second  ;  "  the  merry  mon- 
arch" appointed  him  one  of  the  yeomen 
of  his  guard.  This  office  he  held  during 
his  majesty's  life  ;  and  when  his  lordship 
'was  made  governor  of  the  citadel  of  Ply- 
mouth, Payne  was  placed  therein  as  a 
gunner.  His  picture  used  to  stand  in  the 
great  hall  at  Stowe,  in  the  county  of  Corn- 
wall, and  is  now  removed  to  Penheale, 
another  seat  of  the  Granville  family.  At 
his  death  the  floor  of  the  apartment  was 
taken  up  in  order  to  remove  his  enormous 
remains.  As  a  Cornishman,  in  point  of 
size,  weight,  and  strength  he  has  never 
been  equalled. 

The  nearest  to  Anthony  Payne  was 
Charles  Chillcott,  of  Tintagel,  who  mea- 
sured six  feet  four  inches  high,  round  the 
breast  six  feet  nine  inches,  and  weighed 
four  hundred  and  sixty  pounds.  He  was 
almost  constantly  occupied  in  smoking— 
three  pounds  of  tobacco  was  his  weekly  al- 
lowance ;  his  pipe  two  inches  long.  One  of 
his  stockings  would  contain  six  gallons  of 
wheat.  He  was  much  pleased  with  the 
curiosity  of  strangers  who  came  to  see 
him,  and  his  usual  address  to  them  was, 


"  Come  under  my  arm,  little  fellow."  He 
died  5th  of  April,  1815,  in  his  sixtieth 
year. 

Ancient  Cornish  names  of  the  Months. 

JANUARY  was  called  Mis  (a  corruption 
of  the  Latin  word  mensis,  a  month)  Gen- 
ver,  (an  ancient  corruption  of  its  common 
name,  January,)  or  the  cold  air  month. 

FEBRUARY,  Hu-evral>  or  the  whirling 
month. 

MARCH,  Mis  Merh,  or  the  horse  month; 
also,  Meurz,  or  Merk,  a  corruption  of 
March. 

APRIL,  Mis  Ebratt,  or  the  primrosr 
month  ;  Abrilly,  or  the  mackerel  month . 
also  Epiell,  a  corruption  of  its  Latin 
appellative,  Apr  His. 

MAY,  Miz  Me,  or  the  flowery  month  ; 
Me,  being  obviously  a  corruption  of  May, 
or  Mains,  the  original  Latin  name. 

JUNE,  Miz  Epham,  the  summer  month, 
or  head  of  summer. 

JULY,  Miz  Gorephan,  or  the  chief  head 
of  the  summer  month. 

AUGUST,  Miz  East,  or  the  harvest 
month, 

SEPTEMBER,  Mi*  Guerda  Gala,  or  the 
white  straw  month. 

OCTOBER,  Miz  Hedra,  or  the  watery 
month. 

NOVEMBER,  Miz  Dui,  or  the  black 
month. 

DECEMBER,  Miz  Kevardin,  or  in  Ar- 
moric  Miz  Querdu,  the  month  following 
the  black  month,  or  the  month  also  black 
SAM  SAM'S  SON. 

June  21,  1826. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  55. 

Sfulp  14. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  14th  of  July,  1766,  the  Grand 
Junction  Canal,  connecting  the  Irish  sea 
to  the  British  ocean,  was  commenced  bv 
Mr.  Brindley. 

FRENCH  REVOLUTION 
From   the   destruction  of  the  Bastille 
this  day  in  the  year  1789,*  the  commence- 
ment of  the  French  revolution  is  dated. 
•     Miss  Plumptre    mentions    a    singular 
allegorical  picture  in  the  Hotel  de  faille,  or 
Guildhall,  of  the  city  of  Aix.     It  repre- 

•  Srf  TOl.  i.  C01.  &tt 


971 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  14. 


972 


sented  the  three  orders  of  the  state — the 
nobles,  the  clergy,  and  the  tiers-etat — in 
their  relative  situations  before  the  revolu- 
tion. In  the  middle  is  a  peasant,  with 
the  implements  of  his  profession  about 
him,  the  scythe,  the  reaping-hook,  the 
pioche,  which  is  a  sort  of  pick-axe  used  in 
Provence  to  turn  up.  the  ground  in  steep 
parts  where  a  plough  cannot  be  used,  a 
spade,  a  vessel  for  wine,  &c.  On  his 
shoulders  he  supports  a  heavy  burden,  in- 
tended to  represent  the  state  itself;  while 
on  one  side  of  him  is  a  noble,  and  on  the 
other  an  ecclesiastic,  in  the  costume  of 
their  respective  orders,  who  just  touch  the 
burden  with  one  hand,  while  he  supports 
it  with  his  whole  strength,  and  is  bowed 
down  by  it.  The  intention  of  the  allegory 
is  to  show,  that  it  is  on  the  peasantry,  or 
tiers-^tat,  that  the  great  burden  of  the 
state  presses,  while  the  nobles  and  clergy 
are  scarcely  touched  by  it.  Above  the 
burden,  which  is  in  the  form  of  a  heart,  is 
the  motto,  nihil  aliud  in  nobis,  "  There  is 
nothing  else  in  our  power."  From  the 
costume  of  the  figures,  which  is  that  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  it  is  conjectured 
that  the  picture  was  of  that  date ;  but  no 
tradition  is  preserved  of  the  time  when,  or 
the  person  by  whom  it  was  executed. 

This  remarkable  painting  hung  in  the 
guard-room,  on  one  side  of  the  door  of 
the  room  where  the  consuls  of  Aix  held 
#heir  meetings  for  the  settling  the  imposi- 
tions of  the  rates  and  taxes ;  a  room  which 
was  consequently  in  theory  the  sanctuary 
of  equity,  the  place  where  to  each  member 
of  the  community  was  allotted  the  respec- 
tive proportion  which  in  justice  was  de- 
manded of  him  for  supporting  the  general 
good  of  the  whole.  "  This,"  says  Miss 
Plumptre,  "  was  a  very  fine  piece  of 
satire,  and  it  is  only  surprising  that  it 
should  have  been  suffered  to  hang  there : 
it  probably  had  occupied  the  place  so 
long,  that  it  had  ceased  from  time  imme- 
morial to  excite  attention ;  but  it  shows 
that  even  two  centuries  before  the  revolu- 
tion there  were  those  who  entertained  the 
opinions  which  led  finally  to  this  tremend- 
ous explosion,  and  that  these  opinions  did 
not  then  first  start  into  existence." 


national  constituent  assembly,  and  after- 
wards the  celebrated  mayor  of  Paris, 
mentions,  in  a  posthumous  work,  that  an 
association  was  formed  at  Versailles  as 
early  as  in  June,  1 789,  even  before  the 
taking  of  the  Bastille,  of  the  deputies  of 
Brttagne  to  the  tiers-etat,  which  was 
known  by  the  name  of  the  comitt  Breton ; 
and  he  goes  on  to  say  : — "  This  may  be 
called  the  original  of  the  society  after- 
wards so  celebrated  as  the  Jacobin  Club, 
and  was  disapproved  by  all  who  did  not. 
belong  to  it.  The  Bretons  were  certainly 
excellent  patriots,  but  ardent,  vehement, 
and  not  much  given  to  reflection ;  nor 
have  I  any  doubt  but  that  the  first  idea  of 
establishing  a  republic  was  engendered 
by  the  overstrained  notions  of  liberty 
cherished  in  this  club.  To  them,  conse- 
quently, must  be  imputed  the  origin  of 
those  fatal  divisions  which  afterwards 
arose  between  the  adherents  of  a  limited 
monarchy,  and  those  who  would  not  be 
satisfied  with  any  thing  short  of  a  repub- 
lic ; — divisions  which  occasioned  so  many 
and  so  great  misfortunes  to  the  whole 
country." 

This  province  was,  in  the  sequel,  re- 
puted to  be  one  of  the  parts  of  France  the 
most  attached  to  the  Bourbon  interest, 
because  the  arbitrary  proceedings  of  the 
convention  had  afforded  a  handle  for 
another  set  of  anarchists  to  rise  in  oppo- 
sition to  them.  In  this  conflict  it  would 
be  difficult  to  determine  on  which  side 
the  greatest  want  of  conduct  was  shown, 
— which  party  was  guilty  of  the  greatest 
errors. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  JACOBIN  CLUB. 
The  Bretons  were  even  from  the  com- 
mencement of  the  revolution  among  the 
most  eager  in  the  popular  cause,  and  the 
original  republican  party  arose  among 
them.  Bailly,  the  first  president  of  the 


SUPERSTITIONS  OF  BRITTANY. 
Like  the  people  of  Wales,  who  boast 
that  their  ancestors  were  never  conquered 
by  the  Saxons,  the  Bretons  affirm  that 
their  country  alone,  of  all  the  provinces 
of  Gaul,  was  never  bowed  to  the  Frankish 
yoke ;  and  that  they  are  the  true  descend- 
ants of  the  ancient  Armoricans,  its  first 
known  inhabitants.  They  allow  the 
Welsh  It)  be  of  the  same  stock  as  them- 
selves, and  are  proud  of  affinity  with  a 
people  who,  like  themselves,  firmly  and 
effectually  resisted  a  foreign  yoke ;  but 
they  claim  precedence  in  point  of  an- 
tiquity, and  consider  themselves  as  the 
parent  stock  from  which  Britain  was 
afterwards  peopled.  Indeed  from  the 
great  resemblance  between  the  Bretons 
and  the  Welsh,  a  strong  argument  may 
be  drawn  to  conclude  that  they  had  a 


973 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  14. 


97* 


common  origin.  As  Wales  is  to  England 
the  great  repository  of  its  ancient  super- 
stitions, so  is  Brittany  to  France.  Here 
\vas  the  prime  seat  of  the  Druidical 
mysteries,  nor  were  they  banished  till 
the  conversion  of  the  country  to  Chris- 
tianity. In  the  southern  provinces,  when 
Woden  and  Thor  ceded  their  places  to 
Apollo  and  Diana,  the  gods  •  of  Roma 
Antica  were  installed  in  their  seats,  till 
they  in  their  turn  were  displaced  by  the 
legions  of  the  papal  hierarchy  :  but  the 
deities  established  in  Brittany  by  the 
Celto-Scythian  inhabitants  maintained 
their  ground  till  they  were  overpowered 
by  the  army  of  popish  saints,  whose  num- 
bers so  far  exceeded  the  Celtic  deities, 
that  it  was  impossible  to  resist  the  inva- 
sion. Yet  if  the  ancient  deities  were 
conquered,  and  honoured  no  longer  under 
their  original  names,  their  influence  re- 
mained. The  wonders  attributed  to  them 
•were  not  forgotten.  Their  remembrance 
•was  still  cherished,  their  miracles  were 
transferred  to  another  set  of  champions, 
and  the  Thors  and  Wodens  were  revived 
under  the  names  of  St.  Pol,  St.  Ferrier,  &c. 
The  old  religion  of  the  Druids  secured 
unbounded  authority  over  the  minds 
of  the  people.  This  engine  was  too 
powerful  to  be  lightly  relinquished ;  and 
the  papacy  instead  of  directing  them 
to  the  sublime  contemplation  of  one  all- 
powerful,  all -commanding  governor  of 
the  universe,  through  whom  alone  all 
live  and  move  and  have  their  being,  trans- 
ferred to  new  names  the  ancient  reveries 
of  a  supernatural  agency  perpetually  in- 
terposing in  all  the  petty  affairs  of  man- 
kind. The  operators  in  this  agency, 
genii,  fairies,  daemons,  and  wizards,  were 
all  comprehended  under  the  one  denomina- 
tion of  saints.  Enchanters  and  dragons 
were  exchanged  for  pious  solitaries  and 
wonderful  ascetics,  who  calmed  tempests 
with  a  word,  walked  on  the  waves  of  the 
ocean  as  on  dry  land,  or  wafted  over  it 
upon  cloaks  or  millstones ;  who  meta- 
morphosed their  staves  into  trees,  and 
commanded  fountains  to  rise  under  their 
feet;  by  whom  the  sick  were  healed;  whose 
shadows  were  pretended  to  have  raised  the 
dead  •  and  whose  approach  might  be  per- 
ceived by  the  perfume  their  bodies  spread 
throughout  the  air. 

Two  of  .the  most  illustrious  and  wonder- 
working sains  of  the  country,  Saint  Pol 
de  Lion  and  Saint  Jean  du  Doigt,  were 
established  at  only  a  short  distance  from 


Morlaix ;  the  former  a  little  to  the  north 
west  of  the  town,  the  latter  a  little  to  the 
north-east.  The  town  of  St.  Pol  de  Leon 
stands  on  the  coast.  From  the  boldness 
and  beauty  of  the  workmanship  of 
the  cathedral,  it  was  supposed  that  it 
could  hardly  have  been  executed  by 
mortal  hands ;  it  would  have  been  to 
the  honour  of  the  saint  to  have  as- 
cribed it  to  him,  as  a  notable  worker  of 
miracles,  but,  by  the  most  fervent,  the 
architecture  is  attributed  to  the  devil. 

Miss  Plumptre  says,  "  The  name  of 
this  episcopal  see  has  become  familiar 
in  England,  from  its  bishop  having  made 
a  rery  conspicuous  figure  in  his  emigra- 
tion hither,  and  having  here  at  length 
ended  his  days.  I  did  not  find  the  cha- 
racter of  this  prelate  more  popular  among 
his  fellow-countrymen  in  Brdtagne,  than 
it  had  been  among  his  fellow-emigrants 
in  London :  they  gave  him  the  same 
character,— r-of  one  of  the  most  haughty, 
insolent,  and  over-bearing  among  the 
ecclesiastical  dignitaries  in  France;  and 
while  the  Bretons  had  in  general  an  al- 
most superstitious  veneration  for  their 
clergy,  they  regarded  this  bishop  with 
very  different  sentiments." 

The  honour  of  having  given  birth  to 
St.  Pol  de  Leon  is  ascribed  to  England 
about  the  year  490.  When  a  boy  he 
gave  an  earnest  of  what  might  in  future 
be  expected  of  him.  The  fields  of  the 
monastery  in  which  he  was  a  student, 
were  ravaged  by  such  a  number  of  birds, 
that  the  whole  crop  of  corn  was  in  danger 
of  being  devoured.  St.  Pol  summoned 
the  sacrilegious  animals  to  appear  before 
the  principal  of  the  monastery,  St.  Hy- 
dultus,  that  they  might  receive  the  cor- 
rection they  merited.  The  birds,  obedient 
to  his  summons,  presented  themselves  in  a 
body ;  but  St.  Hydultus,  being  of  a  humane 
disposition,  only  gave  them  a  reproof  and 
admonition,  and  then  let  them  go,  even 
giving  them  his  benediction  at  their 
departure.  The  grateful  birds  never 
after  touched  the  corn  of  the  monastery. 
In  a  convent  of  nuns  hard  by,  situated 
on  the  sea-shore,  and  extremely  exposed 
to  the  tempestuous  winds  of  the  north, 
lived  a  sister  of  St.  Pol.  She  represented 
the  case  of  the  convent  to  her  brother ; 
when  he  ordered  the  sea  to  retire  four 
thousand  paces  from  the  convent ;  which 
it  did  immediately.  He  then  directed 
his  sister  and  her  companions'  to  range  a 
row  of  flints  along  the  shore  foi  a  consi- 


975 


THE  EVERY-DAY   BOOK.— JULY  14. 


976 


derable  distance ;  which  was  no  Sooner 
done  than  they  increased  into  vast  rocks, 
they  so  entirely  broke  the  force  of  the 
winds,  that  the  convent  was  never  after 
incommoded. 

For  some  reason  or  other,  it  does  not 
appear  what,  St.  Pol  de  Leon  took  a 
fancy  to  travel,  and  walked  over  the  sea 
one  fine  morning  from  England  to  the 
Isle  of  Batz.  Immediately  on  landing 
there,  by  a  touch  of  his  staff — for  saints 
used  a  staff  instead  of  a  wand,  which  was 
the  instrument  employed  by  fairies — he 
cured  three  blind  men,  two  who  were 
dumb,  and  one  who  was  a  cripple  with 
the  palsy, 

A  count  de  Guythure,  who  was  go- 
vernor of  Batz  at  the  saint's  arrival 
laboured  under  a  mortal  uneasiness  of 
mind,  on  account  of  a  little  silver  bell 
belonging  to  the  reigning  king  of  England, 
the  possession  of  which,  in  defiance  of 
the  injunction  contained  in  the  tenth 
commandment,  he  coveted  exceedingly. 
St.  Pol  ordered  a  fish  to  swallow  the  bell, 
and  bring  it  over :  this  was  instantly 
performed  ;  but  the  saint  had  provided  a 
rival  to  himself,  for  the  bell  became  a  no 
less  celebrated  adept  in  miracles  than  he 
was,  and  between  them  both  the  want  of 
physicians  in  the  country  was  entirely 
precluded.  The  bell  was  afterwards 
deposited  among  the  treasures  in  the 
cathedral  of  St.  Pol  de  Leon. 

But  the  Isle  of  Batz  was  visitfd  with 
even  a  heavier  affliction  than  the  mortal 
uneasiness  of  its  governor  ;  it  was  infested 
by  a  terrible  dragon,  which  devoured 
men,  animals,  and  every  thing  that  came 
in  its  way.  St.  Pol,  dressed  in  his  pon- 
tificial  robes  and  accompanied  by  a  young 
man  whom  he  had  selected  for  the  pur- 
pose, repaired  to  the  monster's  cavern, 
and  commanded  him  to  come  forth.  He 
soon  appeared,  making  dreadful  hissings 
and  howlings  ;  a  stroke  of  the  saint's  staff 
silenced  him  :  a  rope  thrown  round  his 
neck,  and  an  order  to  lead  him  away 
finished  all  opposition.  St.  Pol  conducted 
him  to  the  northernmost  point  of  the 
island;  another  stroke  of  his  staff  preci- 
pitated the  monster  into  the  sea,  and  he 
never  more  returned. 

The  count  de  Guythure,  charmed  with 
the  saint,  resigned  his  splendid  palace 
to  him,  and  retired  to  Occismor  on  the 


continent,  the  place .  where  the  town 
now  stands.  The  saint  converted  the 
palace  into  a  monastery ;  and,  there 
being  no  water,  had  recourse  to  his 
staff  again,  and  produced  a  fountain 
of  fresh  water  still  existing  on  the  sea- 
shore, which  is  not  affected  by  the  over- 
flowing of  the  sea. 

St.  Pol  was  afterwards  bishop  of  Oe- 
eismorr  on  which  occasion  the  place 
changed  its  name.  Here  he  continued 
to  work  miracles,  till,  growing  weary  of 
mankind,  he  retired  again  to  the  Isle  of 
Batz,  where  he  died  at  the  age  of  a  hun- 
dred and  two  years.  The  inhabitants  of 
the  island  and  the  people  of  Occismor 
disputed  for  his  body ;  the  dispute  was 
settled  by  each  agreeing  to  accept  half. 
They  were  about  to  carry  this  agreement 
into  execution,  when  the  body  suddenly 
disappeared,  and  was  afterwards  found 
on  the  sea-shore  at  Occismor,  which  was 
considered  as  a  plain  indication  that  the 
saint  himself  chose  that  for  the  place  of 
his  interment.  Such  are  the  kind  of  fables 
related  of  this  saint. 


An  occurrence  in  the  town  of  St.  Pol 
de  L6on  about  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  has  only  this  of  prodigy  in  it, 
that  such  facts  are  not  common.  A 
seigneur  of  the  neighbourhood  had  accu- 
mulated debts  to  so  large  an  amount, 
that  he  was  entirely  unable  to  discharge 
them,  and  knew  not  what  means  to  pursue 
for  extricating  himself  from  his  embarrass- 
ments. Three  of  his  tenants,  farmers, 
offered  to  undertake  the  management  of 
his  affairs,  if  he  would  resign  every  thing 
in  trust  to  them  for  a  certain  term  of 
years;  and  they  proffered  to  allow  him 
half  the  revenue  he  had  drawn  from 
them,  and  with  the  remainder  to  pay  off 
his  debts,  taking  to  themselves  only  what 
profit  they  might  be  able  to  derive  from 
the  speculation.  The  seigneur  agreed 
to  the  proposal,  and  every  part  of  the 
agreement  was  punctually  performed  by 
the  farmers.  At  the  term  agreed  on  the 
estates  were  returned  to  the  owner,  not 
merely  disencumbered,  but  exceedingly 
increased  in  value,  and  in  a  state  of  ex- 
cellent cultivation,  while  the  farmers  had 
at  the  same  time  made  a  fair  profit  to  them- 
selves. At  the  final  conclusion  of  the 
agreement  they  made  a  present  to  the  seig- 
neur's lady  of  eight  horses,  that  she  mtght 
come  to  church,  as  they  said,  in  a  manner 
suitable  to  her  rank. 


977 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  14. 


978 


In  Brittany,  mingled  with  the  legends 
of  saints  are  its  still  more  ancient  super- 
stitions. There  is  scarcely  a  rock,  a  foun- 
tain, a  wood,  or  a  cave,  to  which  some 
tale  of  wonder  is  not  attached.  From 
thence  omens  and  auguries  are  drawn 
regarding  the  ordinary  occurrences  of  life. 
Every  operation  of  nature  is  attributed  by 
the  Bretons  to  miraculous  interposition : 
they  believe  that  the  air,  the  earth,  and 
the  waters  are  peopled  with  supernatural 
agents  of  all  sorts  and  descriptions. 

Likewise  there  are  fountains,  into 
which  if  a  child's  shirt  or  shift  be  thrown 
and  it  sinks,  the  child  will  die  within  the 
year;  if  it  should  swim,  it  is  then  put  wet 
on  the  child,  and  is  a  charm  against  all 
kinds  of  diseases.  The  waters  of  some 
fountains  are  poured  upon  the  ground 
by  those  who  have  friends  at  sea,  to  pro- 
cure a  favourable  wind  for  them  during 
four-and-twenty  hours. 


Another  mode  of  procuring  a  favourable 
wind  is  to  sweep  up  the  dust  from  a 
church  immediately  after  mass,  and  blow 
it  towards  the  side  on  which  the  friends 
are  expected  to  return.  The  croak  of  the 
raven  and  the  song  of  the  thrush  are 
answers  to  any  questions  put  to  them ; 
they  tell  how  many  years  any  one  is  to 
live,  when  he  is  to  be  married,  and  how 
many  children  he  is  to  have.  Any  noise 
which  cannot  be  immediately  accounted 
for  foretells  some  misfortune,  and  the 
howling  of  a  dog  is  as  sure  forerunner  of 
death  in  a  family  of  Brittany  as  in  Eng- 
land. The  noise  of  the  sea,  or  the  whist- 
ling of  the  wind  heard  in  the  night,  is  the 
lamentation  of  the  spirit  of  some  one  who 
has  been  drowned,  complaining  for  want 
of  burial. 

A  daemon  or  spirit  of  some  kind,  called 
the  Teusarpouliet,  often  presents  himself 
to  the  people  under  the  form  of  a  cow,  a 
dog,  a  cat,  or  some  other  domestic  ani- 
mal; nay,  he  will  sometimes  in  his 
assumed  form  do  all  the  work  of  the 
house. 


pleasure    of  frightening   any    body    who 
may  chance  to  meet  him. 

Another  nocturnal  wanderer  is  a  spectre 
in  white  carrying  a  lantern ;  he  appears 
at  first  like  a  mere  child,  but  as  you  look 
at  him  he  increases  in  size  every  moment, 
till  he  becomes  of  a  gigantic  stature,  and 
then  disappears.  Like  the  other  he  seems 
to  have  no  object  in  his  walks  except  to 
frighten  people.  One  of  the  servants  in 
the  house  where  Miss  Plumptre  resided 
very  gravely  gave  her  an  account  of  a 
rencontre  which  she  once  had  with  this 
gentleman.  She  had  been  out  on  an 
errand,  and  returning  home  over  the  Place 
du  Peuple  she  saw  a  light  coming  towards 
her,  which  thought  at  first  was  some- 
body with  a  lantern ;  but  as  it  came  near 
she  perceived  the  white  figure,  and  it 
began  to  increase  in  size, — so  then  she 
knew  what  it  was,  and  she  put  her  hands 
before  her  face,  and  ran  screaming  home. 
Her  master,  she  said,  laughed  at  her  for  a 
fool,  and  said  it  was  her  own  fancy, 
because  he  had  never  happened  to  see  the 
spectre;  nay,  she  did  not  know  whether 
he  would  believe  in  it  if  he  did  see  it ; 
but  nobody  should '  persuade  her  out  of 
her  senses ;  she  saw  it  as  plain  as  ever 
she  saw  any  thing  in  her  life,  and  she 
had  never  ventured  since  to  go  out  by 
herself  after  dark  without  a  lantern,  for 
the  spectre  never  presents  himself  before 
people  who  carry  a  light. 


Jean  gant  y  Tan,  "  John  and  his  fire,'* 
is  a  daemon  who  goes  about  in  the  night 
with  a  candle  on  each  finger,  which  he 
keeps  constantly  turning  round  very 
quick.  What  end  this  is  to  answer  does 
not  appear;  there  seems  none,  but  the 


The  Cariguel  Ancou,  or  "  Chariot  of 
death,"  is  a  terrible  apparition  covered 
with  a  white  sheet,  and  driven  by  skele- 
tons; and  the  noise  of  the  wheels  is 
always  heard  in  the  street  passing  the 
door  of  a  house  where  a  person  is  dying. 


The  Buguel-nos  is  a  beneficent  spirit  of 
a  gigantic  stature,  who  wears  along  white 
cloak,  and  is  only  to  be  seen  between 
midnight  and  two  in  the  morning.  He 
defends  the  people  against  the  devil  by 
wrapping  his  cloak  round  them;  and 
while  they  are  thus  protected  they  hear 
the  infernal  chariot  whirl  by,  with  a  frisjht- 
ful  noise,  the  charioteer  making  hideous 
cries  and  howlings :  it  may  be  traced  in 
the  air  for  a  long  time  after,  by  the 
stream  of  light  which  it  leaves  behind  it. 


There  are  a  set  of  ghostly  washerwomen 
called  ar  cannerez  nos,   or   "  nocturnal 


979 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  14. 


singers,"  who  wash  their  linen  always  by 
night,  singing  old  songs  and  tales  all  the 
time :  they  solicit  the  assistance  of  people 
passing  by  to  wring  the  linen;  if  it  be 
given  awkwardly,  they  break  the  person's 
arm ;  if  it  be  refused,  they  pull  the  refu- 
sers into  the  stream,  and  drown  them. 

In  the  district  of  Carhaix  is  a  mountain 
called  St.  Michael,  whither  it  is  believed 
all  dcemons  cast  out  from  the  bodies  of 
men  are  banished  :  if  any  one  sets  his 
foot  at  night  within  the  circle  they  inhabit, 
he  begins  to  run,  and  will  never  be  able 
to  cease  all  the  rest  of  the  night.  Nobody 
therefore  ventures  to  this  mountain  after 
dark. 

The  Bretons  throw  pins  or  small  pieces 
of  money  into  certain  wells  or  springs,  for 
good  luck ;  in  others  the  women  dip  their 
children,  to  render  them  inaccessible  to 
pain.  They  watch  the  graves  of  their 
friends  for  some  nights  after  their  inter- 
ment, lest  the  devil  should  seize  upon 
them,  and  carry  them  off  to  his  dominions. 


do  not  close,  his  nearest  relation  is  to  die 
very  soon. 

The  Bretons  have  the  legend  of  St 
Guenole,  whose  sister  had  an  eye  plucked 
out  by  a  goose ;  the  saint  took  the  eye 
out  of  the  goose's  entrails,  and  restored  it 
to  its  place  without  its  appearing  in  any 
way  different  from  what  it  was  before. 

They  tell  you  likewise  of  St.  Vincent 
Ferrier,  who,  while  he  was  celebrating 
mass  at  Vannes,  perceived  that  he  had 
lost  his  gloves  and  parapluie ;  and  recol- 
lecting that  he  had  left  them  at  Rome 
went  thither  to  seek  them,  and  returned 
and  finished  his  mass,  without  one  of 
his  congregation  having  perceived  his 
absence. 

They  have  also  a  narrative  of  a  wolf 
who  ate  up  a  poor  man's  ass.  St.  Malo 
ordered  the  wolf  to  perform  the  functions 
of  the  ass,  which  he  continued  to  do  ever 
after;  and  though  sometimes  shut  up  in 
the  stable  with  the  sheep,  never  offered  to 
touch  them,  but  contentedly  fed  on 
thistles,  and  such  other  provender  as  his 
predecessor  used  to  have. 


In  the  district  of  Quimperle  there  is  a 
fountain  called  Krignac :  to  drink  three 
nights  successively  of  this  at  midnight 
is  an  infallible  cure  for  an  intermittent 
fever ;  or,  if  it  should  not  s'v^eed  it  is  a 
sure  sign  that  the  patient's  time  is  come, 
and  he  has  nothing  to  do  but  quietly  wait 
the  stroke  of  death. 

If  a  person  who  keeps  bees  has  his 
hives  robbed,  he  gives  them  up  immedi- 
ately, because  they  never  can  succeed 
afterwards.  This  idea  arises  from  an  old 
Breton  proverb,  -which  says,  Nesqutt  a 
chunche,  varlearch  ar  laer  "  No  luck  after 
the  robber."  But  why  the  whole  weight 
of  the  proverb  is  made  to  fall  upon  the 
bee-hives,  it  might  be  difficult  to  deter- 
mine. 

In  other  parts  of  the  country  they  tie  a 
small  piece  of  black  stuff  to  the  bee-hives, 
in  case  of  a  death  in  the  family,  and  a 
piece  of  red  in  the  case  of  a  marriage ; 
without  which  the  bees  would  never 
thrive.  On  the  death  of  any  one,  they 
draw  from  the  smoke  of  the  fire  an  augury 
whether  his  soul  be  gone  to  the  regions 
of  the  blessed  or  the  condemned  :  if  the 
smoke  be  light  and  mount  rapidly,  he  is 
gone  to  heaven ;  if  it  be  thick  and  mount 
slowly,  he  is  doomed  to  the  regions 
below.  If  the  left  eye  of  a  dead  person 


A  peasant  boy  in  the  district  of  Lesne- 
ven  was  never  able  to  pronounce  any 
other  words  than  O  itroun  guerhes  Mart, 
"  O  lady  Virgin  Mary."  This  he  was 
perpetually  repeating,  and  he  passed 
among  the  country  people  for  an  idiot. 
As  he  grew  up  he  would  live  no  longer 
with  his  parents  in  their  cottage,  but  slept 
in  the  hollow  of  a  tree,  and  ran  about  tlie 
woods  making  his  usual  cry;  in  the 
coldest  weather  he  plunged  into  the 
water  up  to  his  neck,  still  uttering  his 
usual  words,  and  came  up  without  receiv- 
ing any  injury.  After  he  died,  a  lily 
sprang  from  the  spot  where  he  was  in- 
terred. "  A  miracle!"  was  the  imme- 
diate cry,  and  a  church  was  built  over  the 
grave,  dedicated  to  Notre  Dame  de  Foil- 
goat,  ((  Our  lady  of  the  madman  of  the 
woods,"  where  notable  miracles  were 
afterwards  performed. 


Certain  rums  near  the  coast,  a  little  to 
the  south  of  Brest,  are  reputed  to  be  those 
of  a  palace  which  belonged  to  the  Cotirils, 
a  sort  of  pigmies,  who  deal  in  sorceries, 
are  very  malicious,  and  are  great  dancers. 
They  are  often  seen  by  moonlight  skip- 
ping about  consecrated  stones  or  any 
ancient  druidical  monument;  they  seize 


981 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  15, 16,  17. 


people  by  the  hand,  who  cannot  help 
following  them  in  all  their  movements; 
and  when  the  spirits  have  made  them 
dance  as  long  as  they  please,  they  trip  up 
their  heels,  leave  them  sprawling  on  the 
ground,  and  go  laughing  away. 


There  are  in  more  than  one  place  near 
the  western  coast  stones  set  up  in  the 
same  manner  as  those  at  Stonehenge.  A 
species  of  genii,  called  Gaurics,  are  sup- 
posed to  dance  among  them  ;  and  the 
stones  are  called,  in  general,  Ckior-gaur, 
or  "  The  giants'  dance."  In  one  of  the 
places  where  some  of  these  stones  are  to 
be  seen,  the  people  of  the  neighbourhood, 
if  asked  what  they  mean,  say  that  it  was 
a  procession  to  a  wedding  which  was  all 
in  a  moment  changed  into  stone  for  some 
crime,  but  they  do  not  know  what.  In 
another  place  they  are  reputed  to  be  the 
funeral  procession  of  a  miser,  who  re- 
ceived this  punishment  because  in  his 
lifetime  he  had  never  given  any  thing  to 
the  poor. 

These  are  only  a  few  out  of  the  innu- 
merable superstitions  which  prevail 
throughout  Bretagne,  but  they  are  suffi- 
cient to  give  a  perfect  idea  of  the  power 
which  imagination  has  over  the  minds  of 
these  people.* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  30. 


15. 


ST.  SWITHIN. 

For  this  saint,  and  his  supposed  miracu- 
lous power  over  the  weather,  see  vol.  i. 
p.  953. 


Too  fast,  alas  !  they  move  the  seeming  dead, 
With  heedless  steps  the  hasty  bearers  tread, 
And  slipping  thump  the  coffin  on  the  ground, 
Which  made  the  hollow  womb  of  earth  re- 
sound ; 

The  sudden  shock  unseal'd  Xantippe's  eyes, 
O  !  whither  do  you  hurry  me "?  she  cries ; 
Where  is  my  spouse  1 — lo !  the  good  man  ;\\ - 

rrs, 
au  ass  hang   down   his   dangling 
ears; 

Unwillingly  renews  his  slavish  life, 
To  hug  the  marriage  chain,  and  hated  wife. 
For  ten  long  tedious  years  he  felt  her  pow'r, 
At  length  'twas  ended  in  a  lucky  hour ; 
But  now  the  husband,  wiser  than  before, 
Fearing  a  fall  might  former  life  restore, 
Cries,  ff  Soft,  my  friends !  let's  walk  in  solemn 

measure, 

Nor  make  a  toil  of  that  which  gives  us  plea- 
sure."* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  62  •  60. 


16. 

SILENCE  OF  THE  BIRDS. 

Dr.  Forster  observes,  there  is  one  cir- 
cumstance that  will  always  render  the 
country  in  July  and  August  less  pleasing 
than  in  the  other  summer  and  spring- 
months,  namely,  that  the  birds  do  not 
sing.  Aves  mutae  might  be  regularly 
entered  into  the  calendar  for  these  two 
months. 

Silence  girt  the  woods  ;  no  warbling  tongue 
Talked  now  unto  the  echo  of  the  groves. 
Only  the  curled  streams  soft  chidings  kept  ; 
And  little  gales  that  from  the  greene   leafe 

swept 
Dry  summer's  dust,  in  fearefull  whisperings 

stirred, 
As  loth  to  waken  any  singing  bird. 


On  this  day  in  the  year  1743  died,  "in 
earnest,"  the  wife  of  one  Kirkeen,  who 
was  twice  at  Dublin  ready  to  be  buried  ; 
but  came  to  life  to  her  loving  husband's 
great  disappointment,  who  fearing  the 
like  accident  immediately  put  her  into  a 
coffin,  had  it  nailed  up,  and  buried  her 
the  next  day. 

As  wrapp'd  in  death  -like  sleep  Xantippe  lay, 
'Twas  thought  her  soul  had  gently  stole  away ; 
Th'  officious  husband,  with  a  pious  care, 
Made  no  delay  her  funeral  pile  to  rear  : 


*  Miss  Plumptre. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  62  •  37. 


Strip  17. 


A  PENANCE. 

"The  Times"  of  July  17,  1826,  says 
that  on  Sunday  last  Isaac  Gaskill,  bone- 
setter  and  farmer,  of  Bolton-by-the-Sands, 
did  penance  for  the  crime  of  incest  in  the 
parish  church  of  that  place.  As  the 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


983 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  17. 


984 


punishment  is  not  very  common,  we  sub- 
join, as  a  matter  of  curiosity  to  some  of 
our  readers,  the 

Form  of  Penance. 
Whereas,  I,  good  people,  forgetting 


or  it  might  be  drawn  upon  the  crown 
of  a  hat  with  chalk.  In  cottages  and 
public  houses,  it  is  marked  on  the  side  of 
a  pair  of  bellows,  or  upon  a  table,  and,  in 
short,  any  plain  surface.  "  Marl"  is 
played,  like  cards,  by  two 


persons ; 


my  duty  to  Almighty  God,  have  commit-  eacn  person  has  nine  bits  of  pipe,  or  stick, 
ted  the  detestable  sin  of  incest,  by  con-  so  as  to  distinguish  it  from  those  of  the  op- 
ponent. Each  puts  the  pipe  or  stick  upon 
one  of  the  points  or  corners  of  the  line, 
alternately,  till  they  are  all  filled.  There 
is  much  caution  required  in  this,  or  your 
opponent  will  avail  himself  of  your  error, 
by  placing  his  man  on  the  very  point 
which  it  is  necessary  you  should  occupy ; 
the  chief  object  being  to  make  a  perfect 
line  of  three,  either  way,  and  also  to  pre- 
vent the  other  player  doing  so.  Every 
man  that  is  taken  is  put  into  the  square 
till  no  further  move  can  be  made.  But  if 
the  vanquished  be  reduced  to  only  three, 
he  can  hop  and  skip  into  any  vacant  place, 


tracting  marriage,  or  rather  the  show  or 
effigy  of  marriage,  with  Mary  Ann  Taylor, 
the  sister  of  my  late  wife,  and  thereby 
have  justly  provoked  the  heavy  wrath  of 
God  against  me,  to  the  great  danger  of 
my  own  soul,  and  the  evil  example  of 
others ;  I  do  earnestly  repent,  and  am 
heartily  sorry  for  the  same,  desiring  Al- 
mighty God,  for  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ, 
to  forgive  me  both  this  and  all  other 
offences,  and  also  hereafter  so  to  assist  me 
with  his  Holy  Spirit,  that  I  never  fall 
into  the  like  offence  again ;  and  for  that 
end  and  purpose  I  desire  you  all  here 


present  to  pray  with  me,  and  for  me,  say-    tnat  ne  may,  if  possible,  even  at  the  last, 
'  Our  father/  "  &c. —  Westmoreland    *°rrn  a  line,  which  is  sometirr 


ing,  «  Our  fat 
Chronicle. 


NINEPENNY  MARL. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, — There  is  an  ancient  game,  played 
by  the  "  shepherds  of  Salisbury  Plain," 
and  "  village  rustics  "  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  called  "  Ninepenny  Marl."  Not 
having  read  any  account  of  it  in  print,  I 
hasten  to  describe  it  on  your  historical 
and  curious  pages.  Decyphering  and 
drawing  lines  on  the  sand  and  ground  are 
of  great  antiquity ;  and  where  education 
has  failed  to  instruct,  nature  has  supplied 
amusement.  The  scheme,  which  affords 
the  game  of  "  Ninepenny  Marl,"  is  cut 
in  the  clay,  viz. : — 


\ 


sometimes  done  by 

very  wary  manoeuvres.  However  simple 
"  Ninepenny  Marl"  may  appear,  much 
skill  is  required,  particularly  in  the  choice 
of  the  first  places,  so  as  to  form  the  lines 
as  perfectly  and  quickly  as  possible.  This 
game,  like  cards,  has  its  variations.  But 
the  above  imperfectly  described  way  is 
that  to  which  I  was  accustomed  when  a 
boy.  I  have  no  doubt,  Mr.  Editor,  many 
of  your  country  readers  are  not  wholly 
ignorant  of  the  innocent  occupation  which 
"  Ninepenny  Marl"  has  afforded  in  the 
retirement  of  leisure ;  and  with  *rong 
recollections  of  its  attractions, 
I  am,  Sir, 

Your  obliged  correspondent, 

».  *.  P 
P T— ,  July,  1826. 

P.S. 

Plain" 

rather  than  rise,"  when  asked   the   road 

across  the  plain,  they  put  up  one  of  their 

legs  towards  the  place,  and  say,  "  Theek 

ivoy  /"  (this  way  )— "  Thuck  way  /"  (that 

way.) 


"  The   shepherds    of   Salisbury 
are   so    proverbially    idle,    that 


NATURALISTS7    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  17. 


985 


THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  13. 

18. 


986 


Etfam'an 


On  Friday  the  eighteenth  of  July,  1806, 
the  sale  of  the  magnificent  collection  of 
natural  history  ancf  curiosities  formed  by 
sir  Ash  ton  Lever,  was  concluded  by 
Messrs.  King  and  Lochee,  of  King-street, 
I'ovent-garden. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  an  adequate 


account  of  the  "  Leverian  Museum,"  but 
its  celebrity  throughout  Europe  seems  to 
require  some  further  notice  than  a  bare 
mention  :  a  few  facts  are  subjoined  to 
convey  an  idea  of  its  extent,  and  of  the 
gratification  the  lovers  of  natural  history 
and  antiquities  must  have  derived  from  its 
contemplation. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-JULY  18. 


938 


The  last  place  wherein  the  Leverian 
collection  was  exhibited,  was  in  a  hand- 
some building  on  the  Surrey  side  of  the 
Thames,  near  Blacki'riars-bridge,  consist- 
ing of  seventeen  different  apartments, 
occupying  nearly  one  thousand  square 
yards'.  In  these  rooms  were  assembled 
the  rarest  productions  in  the  animal, 
vegetable,  and  mineral  kingdoms,  with 
inimitable  works  of  art,  and  the  various 
dresses,  manufactures,  implements  of  war, 
&c.  of  the  Indian  nations  in  North 
and  South  America,  Otaheite,  Botany-bay 
and  other  foreign  parts,  collected  by  the 
late  captain  Cook  and  other  navigators. 

The  preceding  engraving  represents  the 
rotunda  of  the  museum,  from  a  print  pub- 
lished about  twenty  years  before  the  sale 
took  place.  It  is  an  accurate  record  of  the 
appearance  of  that  part  of  the  edifice,  until 
the  auction,which  was  held  on  the  premises, 
finally  broke  up  the  rare  assemblage  of  ob- 
jects exhibited.  After  the  sale  the  premises 
were  occupied  for  many  years  by  the 
library,  apparatus,  and  other  uses  of  the 
Surrey  Institution.  They  are  now, in  1826, 
used  for  recreation  of  another  kind.  On 
the  exterior  of  the  building  is  inscribed 
"  Rotunda  Wine  Rooms."  It  is  resorted 
to  by  lovers  of  "  a  good  glass  of  wine  " 
and  "  a  cigar,"  and  there  is  professional 
singing  and  music  in  "  the  Rotunda" 
every  Tuesday  and  Thursday  evening. 


The  last  editor  of  Mr.  Pennant's 
"  London,"  in  a  note  on  his  author's  men- 
tion of  the  Leverian  Museum,  remarks  its 
dispersion,  by  observing  that  "this  noble 
collection,  which  it  is  said  was  offered  to 
the  British  Museum  for  a  moderate  sum, 
was  sold  by  auction  in  1806,  The  sale 
lasted  thirty-four  days.  The  number  of 
lots,  many  containing  several  articles, 
amounted  to  four  thousand  one  hundred 
and  ninety-four." 

This  statement  is  somewhat  erroneous. 
An  entire  copy  of  the  "  Catalogue  of  the 
Leverian  Museum,"  which  was  drawn 
up  by  Edward  Donavan,  Esq.  the  eminent 
naturalist,  is  now  before  the  editor  of  the 
Every-Day  jBooft,with  the  prices  annexed. 
It  forms  an  octavo  volume  of  four  hundred 
and  ten  pages,  and  from  thence  it  appears 
that  the  sale  lasted  sixty-five  days,  instead 
of  thirty-four,  and  that  the  lots  amounted 
to  7879,  instead  of  4194,  as  stated  by 
Mr.  Pennant's  editor 


ORDER  OF  THE  CATALOGUE. 

Days, 

Part    I.    5th  May  to  1 3th     .     .     8 

—  II.  14th      .     .       22d    .     .     8 

—  III.  23d        .     .     31st     .     .     8 

—  IV.      2d  June  to  llth     .     .     8 

—  V.  12th     .     .     20th     .     .     8 

—  VI.  21st     .     .       9th  July      17 
Addition  10th  July  to  13th     .     .     3 
Appendixl4th     ."  .     18th     .     .     5 


Days  65' 


Leicester  House. 


The  first  exhibition  of  the  Leverian 
Museum  in  London,  was  at  "  Leicester 
house,"  Leicester-square.  "  This  house 
was  founded,"  Mr.  Pennant  says,  "  by 
one  of  the  Sydnies,  earls  of  Leicester.  It 
was  for  a  short  time  the  residence  of 
Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  I.,  the  titular 
queen  of  Bohemia,  who,  on  February  1 3, 
1661,  here  ended  her  unfortunate  life. 
It  was  successively  the  pouting-place 
of  princes.  The  late  king  (George  II.) 
when  prince  of  Wales,  after  he  had  quar- 
relled with  his  father,  lived  here  several 
years.  His  son,  Frederick,  followed  his 
example,  succeeded  him  in  his  house, 
and  in  it  finished  his  days." 

Mr.  'Pennant  then  proceeds,  more  im- 
mediately to  our  pur  pose,  to  observe,  "  No 
one  is  ignorant  of  the  magnificent  and 
instructive  museum,  exhibited  in  this 
house  by  the  late  sir  Ashton  Lever.  It 
was  the  most  astonishing  collection  of 
the  subjects  of  natural  history  ever  col- 
lected, in  so  short  a  space,  by  any  indi- 
vidual. To  the  disgrace  of  our  kingdom, 
after  the  first  burst  of  wonder  was  over, 
it  became  neglected ;  and  when  it  was 
offered  to  the  public,  by  the  chance  of 
a  guinea  lottery,  only  eight  thousand 
out  of  thirty-six  thousand  tickets  were 
sold.  Finally,  the  capricious  goddess 
frowned  on  the  spirited  proprietor  of  such 
a  number  of  tickets,  and  transferred  the 
treasure  to  the  possessor  of  only  two, 
Mr.  Parkinson."  Further  on,  Mr.  Pen- 
nant says,  "  I  must  not  omit  reminding 
the  reader,  that  the  celebrated  museum 
collected  by  the  late  sir  Ashton  Lever,  is 
transported  to  the  southern  end  of  Black- 
yKar$-bridge  by  Mr.  Parkinson,  whom 
fortune  favoured  with  it  in  the  Leverian 
lottery.  That  gentleman  built  a  place 
expressly  for  its  reception,  and  disposed 
the  rooms  with  so  much  judgment,  as  to 
give  a  most  advantageous  view  of  the 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  18. 


990 


innumerable  curiosities.  The  spirit  of 
the  late  worthy  owner  seems  to  have  been 
transfused  into  the  present.  He  spares  no 
pains  or  expense  to  augment  a  collection, 
before  equally  elegant  and  instructive." 

Mr.  Pennant,  in  his  "  History  of  Quad- 
rupeds," likewise  makes  mention  of  the 
Leverian  Museum,  as  "  a  liberal  fund  of 
inexhaustible  knowledge  in  most  branches 
of  natural  history,"  and  he  especially 
names  "  the  matchless  collection  of 
animals"  there  exhibited,  to  which  he  had 
recourse  while  correcting  the  descriptions 
for  the  last  edition  of  his  work. 

We  have  gathered  from  Mr.  Pennant, 
that  the  Leverian  Museum  was  disposed 
of  by  lottery,  and  his  own  opinion,  as  a 
naturalist,  of  its  merit.  The  evidence 
whereon  the  committee  of  the  house  of 
commons  founded  its  report  in  behalf 
of  the  bill,  which  afterwards  passed  and 
enabled  sir  Ashton  Lever  to  dispose  of 
his  museum  in  that  manner,  amply  testi- 
fies the  opirno^  conceived  of  it  by  indi- 
viduals fully  ^  alined  to  decide  on  its 
importance. 

Mr.  Tennant  who  had  been  upwards 
of  twenty  years  a  collector  of  subjects  of 
natural  history,  and  had  seen  all  the 
cabinets  of  curiosities,  both  public  and 
private,  of  any  note  in  Holland,  France, 
and  Portugal,  and  those  at  Brussels, 
Dresden,  Brunswick,  and  Vienna,  and 
had  also  seen  the  Spanish  cabinet  while 
collecting  in  Holland,  said,  that  he  had 
never  seen  any  collection  more  rare,  more 
curious,  or  more  instructive  than  sir 
Ashton  Lever's,  nor  any  that  could  be 
compared  with  it ;  that  it  exceeded  all 
others  in  the  beauty  and  preservation  of 
the  numerous  articles  it  contained,  which 
were  better  selected  than  any  he  had  seen 
elsewhere ;  and  that  it  contained  many 
specimens  that  could  not  be  procured  at 
any  expense. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  gave  similar 
testimony.  Having  a  particular  love  for 
natural  history,  in  different  journeys  to 
and  from  Naples,  where  he  was  ambas- 
sador from  Great  Britain,  he  had  seen 
every  public  and  private  museum  in  Hol- 
land, France,  Germany,  Italy,  and  Sicily, 
and  he  thought  sir  Ashton  Lever's  col- 
lection was  in  every  respect  the  finest. 

Baron  Dirasdale  said  he  had  seen  the 
cabinets  of  curiosities  at  Moscow  and  St. 
Petersburgh,  and  also  those  at  Paris  and 
Dresden,  which  are  esteemed  very  curious 
and  valuable,  and  that  they  were  not,  all 


together,  to  be  compared  with  sir  Ashton 
Lever's  museum. 

After  such  distinguished  and  unques- 
tionable testimonials  respecting  this  col- 
lection, it  would  be  trifling  to  adduce  a 
poem  in  proof  that  it  merited  praise ;  but 
as  a  curiosity,  which,  on  account  of  the 
youth  of  its  author,  sir  Ashton  Lever 
himself  must  have  deemed  a  "  curio- 
sity," the  following  may  be  perused  with 
interest. 

VERSES, 

ADDRESSED  TO  SIR  ASHTON  LEVER,  BY  A 
LITTLE  BOY  OF  TEN  YEARS  OLD  ON 
BEING  FAVOURED  WITH  A  SIGHT  OF 
HIS  MUSEUM. 

November  6, 1778. 
If  I  had  Virgil's  judgment,  Homer's  fire, 
And  could  with  equal  rapture  strike  the  lyre, 
Could  drink  as  largely  of  the  muse's  spring, 
Then  would  I  of  sir  Ashton's  merits  sing. 
Look  here,  look  there,  above,  beneath,  around, 
Sure  great  Apollo  consecrates  the  ground . 
Here  stands  a  tiger,  mighty  in  his  strength, 
There  crocodiles  extend  their  scaly  length  : 
Subtile,  voracious  to  devour  their  food, 
Savage  they  look,  and  seem  to  pant  for  blood. 
Here  shells  and  fish,  and  finny  dolphins  seen, 
Display  their  various  colours  blue  and  green. 
View  there  an  urn  which  Roman  ashes  bore, 
And  habits  once  that  foreign  nations  wore. 
Birds  and  wild  beasts  from  Afric's  burning 

sand, 

And  curious  fossils  rang'd  in  order  stand. 
Now  turn  your  eyes  from  them,   and  quick 

survey, 

Spars,  diamonds^  crystals,  dart  a  golden  ray 
View  apes  in  different  attitudes  appear, 
With  horns  of  bucks,  and  goats,  and  shamois 

deer. 

Next  various  kinds  of  monsters  meet  the  eye  ; 
Dreadful  they  seem,  grim-looking  as  they  lie. 
What  man  is  he  that  does  not  view  with  awe 
The  river-horse  that  gives  the  Tigris  law  1 
Dauntless  he  looks,  and,  eager  to  engage, 
Lashes  his  sides,  and  burns  with  steady  rage. 
View  where  an  elephant's  broad  bulk  ap- 
pears, 

And  o'er  his  head  his  hollow  trunk  he  rears  : 
He  seems  to  roar,  impatient  for  the  fight, 
And  stands  collected  in  his  utmost  might. 
Some  I  have  sung,  much  more  my  muse  could 

name; 

A  nobler  muse  requires  sir  Ashton's  fame. 
I've  gained  my  end,  if  you,  good  sir,  receive 
This  feeble  present,  which  I  freely  give. 
Your  well-known  worth,  to  distant  nations 

told, 
Amongst  the  sons  of  Fame  shall  be  enroll'd. 

T.  P.* 
Kenning  ton,  Nov.  8,  1778. 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  13. 


992 


Cicfeet  of  Sfomfesfott  to  tfte  getorian  ;flflu0tmiu 

ISSUED  BY  MR.  PARKINSON  >FTER  HE  OBTAINED  IT  BY  LOTTERY. 


It  seems  appropriate  and  desirable  to 
give  the  above  representation  of  Mr.  Par- 
kinson's ticket,  for  there  are  few  who  re- 
tain the  original.  Besides — the  design  is 
good,  and  as  an  engraving  it  is  an  orna- 
ment. 

And — as  a  memorial  of  the  method 
adopted  by  sir  Ashton  Lever  to  obtain 
attention  to  the  means  by  which  he  hoped 
to  reimburse  himself  for  his  prodigious 
outlay,  and  also  to  enable  the  public  to 
view  the  grand  prize  which  the  adventure 
of  a  guinea  might  gain,  one  of  his  adver- 
tisements is  annexed  from  a  newspaper  of 
January  28,1785. 

SIR  ASHTON  LEVER's  Lottery 
Tickets  are  now  on  sale  at  Leicester- 
house,  every  day  (Sundays  excepted)  from 
Nine  in  the  morning  till  Six  in  the  even- 
ing, at  One  Guinea  each;  and  as  each 
ticket  will  admit  four  persons,  either  to- 
gether or  separately,  to  view  the  Museum, 
no  one  will  hereafter  be  admitted  but  by 
the  Lottery  Tickets,  excepting  those  who 
have  already  annual  admission. 

This  collection  is  allowed  to  be  infinitely 
superior  to  any  of  the  kind  in  Europe. 
The  very  large  sum  expended  in  making  it, 
is  the  cause  of  its  being  thus  to  be  disposed 


of,  and  not  from  the  deficiency  of  the 
daily  receipts  (as  is  generally  imagined) 
which  have  annually  increased,  the  ave- 
rage amount  for  the  last  three  years  being 
1833/.  per  annum. 
The  hours  of  admission  are  from  Eleven 

till  Four. 
Good  fires  in  all  the  galleries. 

The  first  notice  of  the  Leverian  Museum 
is  in  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine"  for 
May,  1773,  by  a  person  who  had  seen  it 
at  Alkerington,  near  Manchester,  when 
it  was  first  formed.  Though  many  speci- 
mens of  natural  history  are  mentioned, 
the  collection  had  evidently  not  attained 
its  maturity.  It  appears  at  that  time  to 
have  amounted  to  no  more  than  "  up- 
wards of  one  thousand  three  hundred  glass 
cases,  containing  curious  subjects,  placed 
in  three  rooms,  besides  four  sides  of 
rooms  shelved  from  top  to  bottom,  with 
glass  doors  before  them."  The  works  of 
art  particularised  by  the  writer  in  the 
"  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  are  "  a  head 
of  his  present  majesty,  cut  in  cannil  coal, 
said  to  be  a  striking  likeness ;  indeed  the 
workmanship  is  inimitable — also  a  draw- 
ing in  Indian  ink  of  a  head  of  a  late  duke 


993 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  IB. 


of  Bridgewater,  valued  at  one  hun- 
dred guineas — a  few  pictures  of  birds  in 
straw,  very  natural,  by  Miss  Gregg;  a 
nasket  of  flowers,  cut  in  paper,  a  most 
masterly  performance;  the  flowers  are 
justly  represented,  not  the  least  dot  of  the 
apices  of  the  stamina  wanting,  or  the  least 
fault  in  the  proportion ;  every  part  is  so 
truly  observed,  that  it  was  new  to  me 
every  time  1  went  to  see  it,  and  gave  me 
great  delight.  This  curious  basket  ot 
flowers  was  executed  by  Mrs.  Groves. 


There  are  a  great  number  of  antique 
dresses  and  parts  of  dresses  of  our  own 
ai>l  other  nations — near  two  hundred 
species  of  warlike  instruments,  ancient 
and  modern ;  but  as  I  am  no  friend  to 
fighting,  of  these  I  took  no  further  notice, 
or  else  I  might  have  mentioned  the  toma- 
hawk, the  scalping-knife,  and  many  more 
such  desperate  diabolical  instruments  of 
destruction,  invented,  no  doubt,  by  the 
devil  himself." 


Summer 


m  tfre  $ottmt 


Down  in  the  Potteries  it's  "  a  sight," 

The  whole  day  long,  from  morn  till  night, 

To  see  the  girls,  and  women  grown, 

The  child,  the  damsel,  and  old  crone 

By  the  well-sides  at  work,  or  singing, 

While  waiting  for  the  water's  springing  ; 

Telling  what  Francis  Moore  presages, 

Or  who  did  not  bring  home  his  wages. 

P'rhaps  one  exclaims,  "  time  runs  away  !" 

Her  neighbour  cries,  "  Why,  what's  to-day?'* 

And,  when  she  knows,  feigns  mighty  sorrow  — 

She  thought  to-day  would  be  to-morrow  ? 

Another  thinks  another's  daughter 

Grows  monstrous  tall—  —  "  Halloo!  the  water!" 


Voi   II.- 84. 


995 


THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  19,  20 


996 


Up  it  rises,  and  they  skurry, 

In  a  skimble  skamble  hurry, 

Shouting  and  bawling  "  Where's  the  pot  ?'* 

"  Why  I  was  first" — "  No,  you  were  not." — 

As  quick  as  thought  they  empt'  the  well, 

And  the  last  comers  take  a  spell, 

At  waiting,  while  the  others  go, 

With  their  full  pitchers,  dawdling  so, 

You'd  think  they'd  nothing  else  to  do 

But  to  keep  looking  round  at  you. 

However,  all  are  honest  creatures, 

And  some  have  pretty  shapes  and  features  : 

So,  if  there  be  an  end  of  lotteries, 

You  may  find  prizes  in  the  Potteries. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  62  •  52. 

3ulg  19. 

K.  George  IV.  crowned. 

Holiday  at  all  the  public  offices. 

"  THE  GLORY  OF  REGALITY." 
This  is  the  title  of  "  A  Historical 
Treatise  on  the  Anointing  and  Crowning 
of  the  Kings  and  Queens  of  England,  by 
Arthur  Taylor,  Fellow  of  the  Society  of 
Antiquaries.  London  :  1820."  8vo.  pp. 
440. 

The  present  notice  is  designed  to  ac- 
quaint inquirers  with  the  most  important 
and  satisfactory  work  regarding  our  regal 
ceremonies  that  exists.  Mr.  Taylor's 
volume  is  a  storehouse  of  information  con- 
cerning the  kingly  title  and  office,  the 
regalia,  the  assistants  at  the  coronation, 
the  tenants  of  the  crown  by  grand  ser- 
geantry  performing  services,  the  ceremo- 
nial, the  processions,  and  the  feast.  That 
part  of  the  book  entitled  a  "  Chronicle  of 
the  Coronations,"  is  full  of  singular  de- 
tails. The  "  History  of  the  Coronation 
Oath"  is  remarkably  curious  and  interest- 
ing. There  is  likewise  an  appendix  of 
important  documents  and  records,  a  valu- 
able index,  and,  according  to  a  good  old 
custom,  which  modern  authors  find  it  con- 
venient to  neglect,  the  reader  is  referred 
to  every  source  of  information  on  the  sub- 
jects treated  of,  by  a  list  of  upwards  of 
two  hundred  and  thirty  works  resorted  to, 
and  quoted  by  Mr.  Taylor,  in  the  course 
of  his  labours.  Few  writers  of  the  present 
day  have  achieved  a  monument  of  so 
much  diligence  as  this  work. — The  trifling 
sum  at  which  it  was  published  can 
scarcely  have  remunerated  its  erudite 
author,  beyond  the  expense  of  the  paper 
and  print  and  wood  engravings. 


Mr.  Arthur  Taylor  is  in  the  foremost 
rank  of  learned  typographers ;  and,  better 
for  himself  in  a  pecuniary  view,  he  is 
printer  to  the  corporation  of  London,  to 
which  office  he  was  elected  while  travel- 
ling in  Italy,  after  the  publication  of  his 
«  Glory  of  Regality." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  87. 


20. 


ST.  MARGARET. 

This  saint  is  in  the  church  of  England 
calendar  and  the  almanacs. 

Butler  speaks  of  her  merely  as  a  virgin, 
who  is  "  said"  to  have  been  instructed  in 
the  faith  by  a  Christian  nurse,  and  perse- 
cuted by  her  father,  who  was  a  pagan 
priest  ;  that  after  being  tormented,  she  was 
martyred  by  the  sword  "  in  the  last 
general  persecution  ;"  that  "  her  name 
occurs  in  the  litany  inserted  in  the  old 
Roman  order,"  and  in  ancient  Greek 
calendars  ;  that,  from  the  east,  her  vene- 
ration was  exceedingly  propagated  in 
England,  France,  and  Germany  during 
the  holy  wars  ;  that  "  Vida,  the  glory  of 
the  Christian  muses,"  honoured  her  as 
"  one  of  the  titular  saints  of  Cremona,  his 
native  city,  with  two  hymns,  begging  of 
God  through  her  prayers"  a  happy  death 
and  a  holy  life  ;  and  that  "  her  body  is 
now  kept  at  Monte  Fiascone,  in  Tus- 
cany." 

The  Egyptians  are  not  more  famous 
for  embalming,  than  the  Romish  church 
is  celebrated  for  the  keeping  of  saints' 
bodies  —  with  the  additional  reputation 
of  a  peculiar  tact  at  discovering  them. 
It  was  not  at  all  uncommon  to  distinguish 
their  bones,  from  other  mortuary  remains, 
a  few  centuries  after  death 


997 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  21. 


998 


We  are  told  that  St.  Margaret  received 
the  crown  of  martyrdom  in  the  year  278,* 
therefore  her  body,  "  now  kept  at  Monte 
Fiascone,"  may  be  regarded  to  have  been 
as  well  *'  kept''  through  one  thousand  five 
hundred  years,  as  those  of  other  saints ; 
for  it  must  be  observed  that  none  but 
saints'  bodies  "  keep."  There  is  not  an 
instance  of  the  body  of  any  lay  indi- 
vidual, however  virtuous  or  illustrious, 
having  remained  to  us  through  fifteen 
centuries. 


The  illustrious  father  of  the  order  of 
the  Jesuits,  Peter  Ribadeneira,  rather  con- 
fusedly relates  that  St.  Margaret  was 
devoured  by  the  devil ;  and  "  in  an  other 
place  it  is  sayd  that  he  swalowed  her  into 
his  bely,"  and  that  while  in  his  inside  she 
made  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  she 
"  yssued  out  all  hole  and  sounde,"  though 
it  is  added  that  this  account  "  is  apocri- 
fum."  We  are  told  that  a  devil  appeared 
to  her  in  the  likeness  of  a  man,  but  she 
caught  him  by  the  head,  threw  him  down, 
set  her  right  foot  on  his  neck,  and  said, 
"  Lye  still  thou  fende,  under  the  fote  of 
a  woman."  In  that  situation  the  devil 
admitted  he  was  vanquished,  and  declared 
he  would  not  have  cared  if  a  young  man 
had  conquered  him,  but  he  was  very  vexed 
to  have  been  overcome  by  a  young  wo- 
man. St.  Margaret  asked  him  what  he 
was,  and  he  answered  that  his  name  was 
Veltis,  that  he  was  one  of  a  multitude  of 
devils  who  had  been  enclosed  in  a  brass 
vessel  by  Solomon,  and  that  after  Solo- 
mon's death  this  vessel  was  broken  at 
Babylon  by  persons  who  supposed  it  con- 
tained a  treasure,  when  all  the  devils  flew 
out  and  took  to  the  air,  where  they  were 
incessantly  espying  how  to  "  assayle 
ryghtfull  men."  Then  she  took  her  foot 
from  his  neck,  and  said  to  him,  "  Flee 
hens  thou  wretched  fende,"  and  behold 
"  the  earth  opened  and  the  fende  sanke 

in."f 

However  '*  right  comfortable"  this  re- 
lation may  be,  there  is  more  "  detection" 
in  that  of  St.  Margaret  being  swallowed 
by  the  devil ;  it  is  a  pity  it  is  «*  apo- 
crifum 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  25. 


*  Mr.  Audley, 


t  Golden  Legend. 


21. 

ST.  VICTOR  OF  MARSEILLES. 

We  are  informed  by  Butler  that  this 
saint  was  a  martyr  under  the  emperor 
Maximian.  From  his  silence  as  to  the 
saint's  life,  it  is  to  be  inferred  that  biogra- 
phers of  saints  were  rare,  while,  from  his 
elaborate  account  of  the  saint's  death,  it 
is  to  be  inferred  that  their  martyrdoms 
were  attended  by  able  reporters. 

The  abbey  of  St.  Victor  at  Marseilles 
was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  religious 
foundations  in  Europe.  It  claimed  to 
have  been  the  first  monastery  established 
in  France.  Its  ruins  are  striking  objects 
of  curiosity  to  visiters  of  the  town. 

St.  Victor's  monastery  was  founded  bj 
St.  Cassien,  patriarch  of  Constantinople, 
in  the  fourth  or  fifth  century.  The  spot 
was  fixed  upon  by  St.  Cassien  for  his  new 
foundation,  from  the  ground  being  already 
considered  as  sacred  by  the  Marseillais, 
for  we  are  assured  that  Mary  Magdalen 
and  her  brother  Lazarus  arrived  in  Pro- 
vence with  a  cargo  of  saints,  fixed  their 
residence  at  Marseilles,  and  converted  a 
great  number  of  the  inhabitants ;  and  that 
Mary  Magdalen  after  remaining  there 
some  time,  desirous  of  being  more  se- 
cluded, withdrew  to  a  grotto  in  the  rock 
on  which  the  abbey  of  St.  Victor  now 
stands.  Still,  pressed  by  crowds,  she 
removed  a  league  from  Marseilles  to  the 
quarter  of  Aygalades,  where  afterwards 
was  founded  a  monastery  of  the  Cannes. 
Even  here  she  could  not  find  seclusion, 
and  she  finally  fixed  her  retreat  at  the 
Salute  Beaume,  a  grotto  in  the  mountain 
of  St.  Pilon,  in  a  more  remote  part  of  the 
country  where  she  ended  her  days. 

On  the  spot  sanctified  by  her  first 
retreat,  a  chapel  was  erected  and  dedi- 
cated to  the  Holy  Virgin  under  the  title 
of  "  Notre  Dame  de  la  Confession."  A 
little  confusion  seems  here  to  have  been 
made  between  Mary  Magdalen,  in  re- 
membrance of  whom  the  spot  was  con- 
sidered as  sacred,  and  the  virgin  mother ; 
for  after  the  monastery  was  built,  a  chapel 
in  it  was  dedicated  to  the  Virgin  Mary, 
while  little  notice  was  taken  of  Mary  the 
penitent. 

The  monastery  of  St.  Cassien  many 
years  after  the  body  of  the  celebrated 
St.  Victor  was  interred  there,  was  called 
the  monastery  of  St.  Victor.  His  foof 
was  said  to  have  been  cut  off  by  order  ot 
Maximian,  for  having  kicked  down  a 


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1000 


statue  of  Jupiter  when  required  to  sacri- 
fice to  it ;  this  foot  has  been  a  relic  in  high 
esteem  ever  since.  Afterwards  his  head 
was  cut  off,  and  the  head  became  another 
relic  of  very  high  value.  Various  miracles 
are  reported  to  have  been  wrought  at  his 
tomb,  particularly  in  the  cure  of  de- 
moniacs. 

It  is  also  related  that  the  tomb  of  the 
emperor  Maximian,  who  died  and  was 
interred  at  Marseilles,  was  discovered 
about  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century, 
and  recognised  to  be  his  by  an  inscrip- 
tion. The  body  was  in  a  leaden  coffin, 
and  found  entire,  having  been  preserved 
by  an  odoriferous  liquor  with  which  it 
was  anointed  without,  and  filled  within. 
Two  chalices  of  gold,  full  of  the  same 
liquor,  were  placed  on  each  side  of  the 
head.  As  a  persecutor  of  the  Christian 
church,  his  body  was  by  order  of  Raim- 
baud,  archbishop  of  Aries,  thrown  into 
the  sea ;  and  it  is  alleged  that  for  some 
time  after  the  water  of  the  spot  where  it 
was  thrown  bubbled  furiously,  as  if 
boiling  over  a  fire,  and  cast  up  smoke 
and  flames  from  the  bosom  of  the  deep. 


There  is  a  tradition  respecting  St.  Victor 
in  the  archives  of  the  abbey,  that  a 
dragon  of  the  wood  adjoining  devoured 
every  thing  that  came  in  his  way,  human 
beings  as  well  as  animals ;  whereupon 
St.  Victor  went  forth  to  fight  him,  armed 
cap-a-pie,  and  mounted  on  a  mettled 
courser,  and  that  he  slew  him  and  freed 
the  country  from  so  terrible  a  scourge. 
An  effigy  of  the  saint,  engaged  with  his 
fearful  antagonist,  was  carved  in  stone, 
and  placed  over  the  porch  of  the  great 
church  :  and  the  same  device  was  adopted 
as  the  great  seal  of  the  monastery.  The 
carving  over  the  church  porch  remains  to 
this  day,  though  somewhat  defaced  :  it 
is  the  exact  counterpart  of  the  English 
St.  George  and  the  dragon.  Underneath 
is  inscribed 

Massiliam  vere.  (VICTOR)  civesque  tuere. 

On  the  St.  Victor's  day,  which  is  the 
twenty -first  of  July,there  were  formerly  held 
at  Marseilles  a  festival  and  procession  in 
honour  of  him,  called  "  La  Triomphale." 
The  relics  of  the  saint  were  carried  round 
the  town  by  the  prior  of  the  monastery, 
attended  by  the  whole  community.  At 
the  head  of  the  procession  marched  a 
cavalier  in  complete  armour,  highly  orna- 


mented, carrying  a  lance  in  one  hand, 
and  in  the  other  the  standard  of  the  abbey 
on  which  were  the  arms  richly  embroi- 
dered ;  he  wore  a  rich  scarf,  and  his  horse 
had  a  housing  of  white  damask,  ornu« 
mented  with  blue  crosses.  This  cavalie? 
was  intended  to  represent  St.  Victor 
He  was  preceded  by  twelve  cavaliers 
carrying  lighted  tapers,  and  accompanied 
by  a  band  of  music  with  drums  and 
trumpets.  Six  pages  followed  him.  As 
soon  as  the  people  heard  the  music,  and 
saw  the  standard,  they  nocked  in  crowds 
to  join  the  procession.  As  it  passed 
along  the  quay  of  the  port,  all  the  vessels 
hoisted  their  colours,  and  saluted  it  with 
a  discharge  of  cannon  and  musquetry ; 
and  the  consuls,  with  the  rest  of  the  ma- 
gistrates, met  it  at  an  appointed  place,  to 
pay  their  homage  to  the  saint,  and  attend 
him  back  to  the  abbey. 

This  ceremony  had  been  observed 
every  year  from  time  immemorial,  till 
monsieur  de  Belsunce,  the  bishop  of 
Marseilles,  who  distinguished  himself  so 
much  in  the  great  plague  of  1720,  pre- 
vailed upon  the  magistrates  to  consent  to 
the  abolition  of  it,  for  the  following  reason. 
He  was  about  to  publish  a  biography  of 
the  bishops,  his  predecessors,  from  the 
first  conversion  of  the  town  to  the  Chris- 
tian faith,  among  whom  it  was  necessary 
to  include  St.  Victor;  and  not  wishing 
him  to  appear  otherwise  than  a  Christian 
bishop  and  martyr,  he  thought  he  would 
not  be  considered  in  these  lights  only, 
while  the  people  were  accustomed  to  see 
him  every  year  in  a  character  directly 
opposite ;  so  that  no  way  appeared  of 
making  the  impression  he  desired,  except 
by  abolishing  the  annual  ceremony. 
Until  then  the  relics  of  St.  Victor,  who 
was  esteemed  the  patron  saint  of  Mar- 
seilles were  always  borne  in  the  pro- 
cession. They  were  likewise  carried  io 
procession  at  the  time  of  any  public  ca- 
lamity ;  but  on  these  occasions  the  armed 
cavalier  did  not  make  his  appearance. 

The  grotto,  which  for  a  short  time  had 
been  the  residence  of  Mary  Magdalen, 
was,  on  the  foundation  of  the  monastery 
converted  into  a  chapel,  and  a  tomb 
erected  to  her  memory.  It  was  said  tha 
no  woman  could  enter  this  chapel  without 
being  immediately  struck  blind  ;  and  foi 
some  centuries  no  female  attempted  to 
penetrate  the  sanctity  of  the  place,  till 
the  celebrated  queen  Joan  insisted  on 


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1002 


admission,  when  it  is  said  she  had  sooner 
Massed  the  portal  than  she  was  deprived 
6f  her  sight.  It  was  afterwards  restored, 
on  her  putting  a  balustrade  of  solid  silver 
round  the  image  of  the  virgin.  This 
image  has  been  preserved,  and  a  place 
has  been  allotted  her  in  the  church  ;  but 
one  of  the  remarkable  effects  of  the  French 
revolution  is,  that  a  woman  can  now  look 
at  it  without  experiencing  the  least  in- 
convenie'nce.  * 

On  the  tomb  of  the  Magdalen,  which 
was  of  white  marble,  were  many  curious 
figures  carved  in  relief — among  others 
a  wolf  suckling  two  children ;  and  in  the 
inferior  church  were  seven  very  fine 
marble  columns  of  the  Corinthian  order. 
These  are  supposed  to  have  been  some  of 
the  many  spoils  of  the  Pagan  temples, 
which  the  monks  of  St.  Victor  are  known 
to  have  appropriated  to  their  own  use. 

It  was  formerly  a  popular  belief,  that 
in  this  place  were  deposited  the  bodies 
of  seven  brothers  who  were  not  dead,  but 
lay  there  to  sleep  till  the  general  resurrec- 
tion. What  became  of  them  at  the  de- 
molition of  the  abbey  does  not  appear. 


Among  the  curiosities  of  the  abbey  of 
St.  Victor  was  a  well,  with  a  small  column 
of  granite  on  each  side  of  it.  On  one  of 
the  columns  was  a  figure  which  was  called 
the  impression  of  the  devil's  claw ;  and 
the  story  concerning  it  was,  that  the  old 
gentleman,  being  envious  of  the  superior 
sanctity  of  the  holy  fathers,  stole  one  day 
into  the  monastery  with  a  malicious  in- 
tention to  corrupt  them.  What  form  he 
assumed  is  not  stated  by  the  record,  but 
he  was  soon  discovered,  and  obliged  to 
make  his  escape;  in  doing  which  he 
stepped  over  these  two  columns,,  and  left 
the  impression  of  his  claw  upon  one  of 
them.  The  truth  was,  that  the  columns 
were  ancient  ones,  and  the  devil's  claw 
the  remains  of  an  acanthus'  leaf. 


The  abbey  of  St.  Victor  was  secularized 
under  Louis  XV.  Formerly  none  but 
natives  of  Marseilles  could  be  members 
of  the  community,  and  the  city  had  the 
right  of  placing  in  it,  a  certain  number  of 
youth  for  education  free  of  expense. 
These  valuable  privileges  were  surren- 
dered, and  the  canons  were  in  future  only 
to  be  chosen  from  among  such  families  of 
Provence,  as  could  produce  a  title  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  years'  nobility  on  the 


paternal  side.  From  that  time  the  foun- 
dation assumed  the  title  of  "  the  noble 
and  illustrious  collegiate  church  of  St. 
Victor." 

In  a  few  years  afterwards,  the  new  ca- 
nons, being  all  nobles,  petitioned  the  king 
for  a  badge  to  distinguish  them  from  the 
other  chapters  of  the  province ;  and  they 
obtained  permission  to  wear  a  cross,  or 
rather  a  star  of  enamel,  similar  to  that 
worn  by  the  knights  of  Malta,  slung 
round  the  neck  with  a  deep  red  ribband. 
In  the  centre  of  the  cross  was  represented 
on  one  side  the  figure  of  St.  Victor  with 
the  dragon,  and  round  it  "  Divi  Victoris 
Massiliensis,"  and  on  the  other,  the  great 
church  of  the  abbey,  with  the  words 
"  Monumentis  et  nobilitate  insignis." 

The  luxury  and  libertinism  of  the  new 
canons  were  matter  of  notoriety  and  scan- 
dal, and  in  the  great  overthrow  of  the 
sceptre  and  priesthood,  the  abbey  of  St. 
Victor  became  one  of  the  first  objects  of 
popular  vengeance.  So  complete  was- 
the  demolition  of  many  parts  of  the  build- 
ings, that  even  the  very  stones  were  car- 
ried away ;  but  in  the  greater  part  frag- 
ments of  the  walls  are  still  left  standing. 
Among  the  ruins  are  many,  fragments  of 
carved  work,  which  the  monks  had 
appropriated  to  the  decoration  of  their 
monastery.  The  most  beautiful  of  these 
remains  were  deposited  in  the  Lyceum  at 
Marseilles.* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  87. 


22. 


MAGDALENE. 

This  name  is  in  the  church  of  England 
calendar  and  the  almanacs. 

The  character  of  Magdalen  is  ably  vin- 
dicated from  the  common  and  vulgar  im- 
putation by  the  illustrious  Lardner,  in  a 
letter  to  the  late  Jonas  Hanway,  wherein 
he  urges  on  the  eminent  philanthropist, 
the  manifest  impropriety  of  calling  a  re- 
ceptacle for  female  penitents  by  the  name 
of  Magdalen. 

St.  Mary  Magdalen. 

Sainte  Beaume  near  Marseilles  is  a  vast 
cavity  in  a  mountain,  thence  called  the 


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1004 


mountain  of  the  Sainte  Beaume.  Here 
Mary  Magdalen  has  been  reputed  to 
have  secluded  herself  during  the  latter 
years  of  her  life,  and  to  have  died.  The 
spot  is  considered  as  holy  ground ;  and 
in  former  times  the  pilgrimages  under- 
taken to  it  from  very  distant  parts, 
occasioned  the  cavern  to  be  converted 
into  a  chapel  dedicated  to  the  Magdalen. 
About  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
a  convent  of  Dominican  friars  was  built 
close  to  the  cavern,  and  the  chapel  was 
from  that  time  served  by  the  monks  of 
the  convent.  Afterwards  an  hospice,  or 
inn,  for  the  accommodation  of  pilgrims, 
and  travellers,  was  added,  and  in  this 
state  it  remained  till  the  revolution. 


Miss  Plumptre  describes  an  interest- 
ing visit  to  Sainte  Beaume : — 

From  Nans  we  soon  began  to  ascend 
the  lesser  mountains,  which  form  the  base 
of  the  principal  one,  and,  after  pursuing 
a  winding  path  for  a  considerable  dis- 
tance, came  to  a  plain  called  the -Plan 
d*  Aulps,  at  the  foot  of  the  great  mountain. 
The  whole  side  of  this  latter  is  covered 
with  wood,  except  an  interval  in  one 
spot,  which  presents  to  the  eye  an  enor- 
mous rock,  almost  perpendicular.  As 
this  opened  upon  us  in  crossing  the  plain, 

monsieur  B ,  who  was  acquainted 

with  the  spot,  said,  "  Now  you  can  see 
the  convent.''  We  looked  around,  but 
saw  no  signs  of  a  habitation :  "  No," 
said  he,  "  you  must  not  look  round,  you 
must  look  upwards  against  the  rock." 
We  did  so,  and  to  our  utter  astonishment 
descried  it  about  halfway  up  this  tremen- 
dous precipice  ;  appearing,  when  beheld 
in  this  point  of  view,  as  if  it  had  no  foun- 
dation, but  was  suspended  against  the 
rock,  like  any  thing  hung  upon  a  nail  or 
peg.  The  sensation  excited  by  the  idea 
of  a  human  habitation  in  such  a  place 
was  very  singular ;  it  was  a  mixture  of 
astonishment  mingled  with  awe,  and  an 
involuntary  shuddering,  at  the  situation 
of  persons  living  in  a  spot  which  had  the 
appearance  of  being  wholly  inaccessible  : 
it  seemed  as  if  the  house  could  have  been 
^uilt  only  by  magic,  and  that  by  magic 
alone  the  inhabitants  could  have  been 
transported  into  it. 

Having  crossed  the  plain,  we  entered 
the  wood  through  which  the  pathway  that 
leads  up  to  the  grotto  and  the  convent 
winds.  A  more  complete  or  sublime 
scene  of  solitude  can  scarcely  be  con- 


ceived. Though  great  numbers  of  the 
trees  were  cut  down  during  the  revolu- 
tion, sufficient  still  remain  to  form  a 
thick  shade. 

On  arriving  at  the  convent,  we  found 
that  the  appearance  we  had  observed 
from  below,  was  a  deception  occasioned 
by  the  distance  ;  that  it  was  built  on  a 
narrow  esplanade  on  the  rock,  which  just 
afforded  room  for  the  building  and  a 
walk  before  it,  guarded  on  the  side  of 
the  precipice  by  a  parapet.  It  was  in- 
deed a  formidable  sight  to  look  over  this 
upon  the  precipice  below.  Both  the 
convent  and  the  inn  were  pillaged  in  the 
revolution,  and  little  more  than  their 
shells  remain. 

The  grotto  is  a  fine  specimen  of  the 
wild  features  of  nature.  The  roof  is  a 
natural  vault,  and  the  silence  of  the  place 
is  only  interrupted  by  the  dripping  of 
water  from  the  roof  at  the  further  end, 
into  a  basin  formed  by  the  rock,  which 
receives  it  below.  This  water  is  remark- 
ably clear  and  limpid,  and  is  warm  in 
winter,  but  very  cold  in  summer.  It  is 
considered  of  great  efficacy  in  the  cure  of 
diseases,  from  the  miraculous  powers 
with  which  it  is  endowed  through  the 
sanctity  of  the  place.  The  cures  it  per- 
forms are  confined,  therefore,  to  those 
who  have  faith  enough  to  rely  upon  its 
efficacy.  The  great  altar  of  the  chapel 
was  very  magnificent,  all  of  marble,  en- 
closed within  an  iron  balustrade.  The 
iron  is  gone,  but  most  of  the  marble  re- 
mains, though  much  broken  and  scattered 
about;  and  what  appeared  remarkable 
was  that  a  great  many  fleurs-de-lys  in 
mosaic,  with  which  the  altar  was  deco- 
rated, were  left  untouched.  Behind  the 
altar  is  a  figure  in  marble  of  the  Magda- 
len, in  a  recumbent  posture,  with  her 
head  resting  upon  her  right  hand. 


Another  point  of  the  mountain,  directly 
above  the  grotto  of  the  Sainte  Beaume, 
is  called  St.  Pilon :  it  is  nearly  six  hun- 
dred feet  higher  than  the  esplanade  on 
which  the  convent  stands,  and  between 
two-thirds  and  three-quarters  of  an  Eng- 
lish mile  perpendicular  height  above  the 
level  of  the  sea.  It  is  said,  that  while  the 
Magdalen  was  performing  her  penitence 
in  the  grotto,  she  was  constantly  carried 
up  to  St.  Pilon  by  angels  seven  times  a 
day  to  pray ;  and  in  aftertimes  a  chapel 
in  form  of  a  rotunda  was  erected  there  in 
commemoration  of  this  circumstance;  but 


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THE  EV7ERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY 


1006 


this  is  now  destroyed.  Very  small  models 
of  it  in  bone,  containing  a  chaplet  and 
crucifix,  used  to  be  made  at  the  convent, 
which  were  purchased  by  visiters. 


Among  the  illustrious  visiters  to  Sainte 
Beaume,  were  Francis  I.,  with  his 
mother,  the  queen  his  first  wife,  and  the 
duchess  of  Alencon  his  sister.  In  comme- 
moration of  this  visit,  which  was  in  1516, 
a  statue  of  Francis  was  erected  in  the 
grotto :  it  remained  there  nearly  to  the 
time  of  the  revolution.  In  1517,  the 
duchess  of  Mantua,  accompanied  by  a 
numerous  train  of  attendants,  made  a 
pilgrimage  thither,  as  she  was  passing 
through  Provence;  sixteen  years  after- 
wards it  was  visited  by  Eleanor  of  Austria, 
second  wife  to  Francis,  with  the  dauphin 
and  the  dukes  of  Orleans  and  Angou- 
leme.  In  1660  it  was  honoured  with  the 
presence  of  Louis  XIV.,  his  mother,  the 
duke  of  Anjou,  and  the  numerous  train 
by  whom  they  were  attended  in  their 
progress  through  the  south. 

Since  this  period  it  does  not  appear 
that  any  persons  of  note  visited  the  shrine 
from  devotional  motives;  but  it  has 
always  been  a  great  object  of  the  devo- 
tion of  the  Proven^eaux,  particularly  of 
the  lower  class.  It  was  often  made  a  part 
of  the  marriage  contract  among  them, 
that  the  husband  should  accompany  the 
wife  in  a  pilgrimage  thither,  within  the 
first  year  after  they  were  married;  but 
even  if  no  express  stipulation  was  made, 
the  husband  who  did  not  do  so  was 
thought  to  have  failed  very  much  in  the 
attention  and  regard  due  to  his  wife. 
Whitsun  week  was  the  usual  time  for 
making  these  visits,  and  all  the  avenues 
to  the  grotto  were  at  this  time  thronged 
with  company,  as  if  it  had  been  a  fair.  All 
the  way  from  Nans  to  the  grotto  are  little 
oratories  by  the  road  side  at  certain 
distances,  in  which  there  used  to  be 
pictures  of  the  Magdalen's  history. 


Among  the  most  illustrious  guests  the 
grotto  ever  received,  must  be  reckoned 
Petrarch.  He  went  at  the  solicitation 
of  Humbert,  dauphin  of  the  Viennois, 
and  of  cardinal  Colonna,  very  much 
against  his  own  inclination.  In  a  letter 
which  he  wrote  thirty-four  years  after- 
wards to  hi*  intimate  friend  Philip  of 


Cabassole,  bishop  of  Cavaillon,  he  says, 
"  We  passed  three  days  and  three  nights 
in  this  holy  and  horrible  cavern.  Wearied 
with  the  society  of  persons  whom  I  had 
accompanied  spite  of  myself,  I  often  wan- 
dered alone  into  the  neighbouring  forest.  I 
had  even  recourse  to  my  usual  remedy 
for  chasing  the  ennui  which  arises  from 
being  in  company  not  perfectly  agreeable 
to  me.  My  imagination  at  such  moments 
recurs  to  my  absent  friends,  and  repre- 
sents them  as  if  present  with  me  :  though 
my  acquaintance  with  you  was  not  then 
of  long  standing,  yet  you  came  to  my 
assistance ;  I  fancied  that  you  were 
seated  by  me  in  the  grotto,  and  invited 
me  to  write  some  verses  in  honour  of  the 
holy  penitent,  towards  whom  you  had 
always  a  particular  devotion;  when  1 
immediately  obeyed,  and  wrote  such  as 
.first  occurred."  The  verses  are  little 
more  than  a  poetical  description  of  the 
place. 

A  carmelite  friar  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  whose  name  was  Jean  Louis 
Barthelemi,  but  who  always  called  him- 
self Pierre  de  St.  Louis,  determined  to 
amuse  his  solitary  hours  with  writing  a 
poem  upon  some  illustrious  saint.  He 
hesitated  awhile  between  Elias,  whom  he 
considered  as  the  founder  of  his  order 
and  Mary  Magdalen,  a  female  with  whom 
he  had  been  enamoured  before  his  retire- 
ment. Love  at  length  decided  the  ques- 
tion, and  he  composed  a  poem  in  twelve 
books,  which  he  entitled,  "  The  Magda- 
lend'ide,  or  Mary  Magdalen  at  the  Desert 
of  the  Sainte  Beaume  in  Provence,  a  Spi- 
ritual and  Christian  Poem"  This  work 
cost  five  years  of  close  application,andcame" 
forth  one  of  the  most  whimsical  effusions 
that  ever  flowed  from  the  pen  of  pious 
extravagance.  Some  idea  of  it  may 
be  collected  from  a  few  extracts  literally 
translated 

Having  treated  at  large  of  the  Magda- 
len's irregular  conduct  in  the  early  part 
of  her  life,  and  of  her  subsequent  conver- 
sion, he  says,  "  But  God  at  length  changed 
this  coal  into  a  ruby,  this  crow  into  a 
dove,  this  wolf  into  a  sheep,  this  hell  into 
a  heaven,  this  nothing  into  something, 
this  thistle  into  a  lily,  this  thorn  into  a 
rose,  this  sin  into  grace,  this  impotence 
into  power,  this  vice  into  virtue,  this  cal- 
dron into  a  mirror."  Again,  speaking  of 
the  thirty  years  which  she  is  reputed  to 
have  passed  in  the  grotto  and  the  woods 
adjoining,  deploring  the  sins  of  her  youth, 


1007 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  23,  24. 


1008 


he  says,  "  The  woods  might  make  her 
pass  for  a  Jlamadryad,  her  tears  might 
make  her  to  be  thought  a  Naiad  ;  —  come 
then,  ye  curious,  and  you  may  behold  an 
aquatic  nymph  in  the  midst  of  a  forest." 
And  again,  in  a  panegyric  upon  her  peni- 
tence, is  the  following  very  extraordinary 
passage:  "  While  she  occupies  herself  in 
expatiating  the  offence*  of  her  preterite 
time,  which  was  but  imperfect,  the  future 
is  destined  to  repair  the  loss;  —  the  pre- 
sent is  such  that  it  is  indicative  of  a 
love  which  mounts  to  the  infinitive,  and 
in  a  degree  always  superlative,  turning 
against  herself  the  accusative."  The  poet 
concludes  his  work  by  saying,  "  If  you 
desire  grace  and  sweetness  in  verses,  in 
mine  will  you  find  them  ;  and  if  you  seek 
ingenious  thoughts,  you  will  find  that  the 
points  of  these  are  not  blunted." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  62  •  47. 


gulp 


ceived  too  late  for  insertion  on  the  fifteenth 
of  the  month,  under  which  day  the  reade 
will  be  pleased  to  consider  it  to  belong. 

For   the  Every-Day  Book. 
JULY  15. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  July,  1757,  a  violent 
shock  of  an  earthquake  was  felt  on  the 
western  part  of  Cornwall.  Its  operations 
extended  from  the  islands  of  Scilly,  as  far 
east  as  Leskeard,  and  as  far  as  Camelford 
north.  The  noise  exceeded  that  of  thun- 
der; the  tremours  of  the  earth  were  heard 
and  seen  in  different  mines,  particularly 
the  following  : — In  Carnoth  Adit  in  St. 
Just,  the  shock  was  felt  eighteen  fathoms 
deep ;  and  in  Boseadzhil  Downs  mine, 
thirty  fathoms.  At  Huel-rith  mine  in  the 
parish  of  Lelant,  the  earth  moved  under 
the  miners,  quick,  and  with  a  trembling 
motion.  In  Herland  mine,  in  the  parish 
of  Gwineav,  the  noise  was  heard  sixty 
fathoms  deep.  In  Chace-water  mine, 
near  Redruth,  at  seventy  fathoms  deep,  a 
dull  and  rumbling  sound.  The  effect  on 
the  miners  may  easily  be  conceived ;  they 
are  generally  a  very  superstitious  race  of 
men.* 

Cornish  Hurling. 

ft  Hurling  matches "  are  peculiar  to 
Cornwall.  They  are  trials  of  skill  between 
two  parties,  consisting  of  a  considerable 
number  of  men,  forty  to  sixty  aside,  and 
often  between  two  parishes.  These  ex- 
ercises have  their  name  from  "  hurling"  a 
wooden  ball,  about  three  inches  diameter, 
covered  with  a  plate  of  silver,  which  is 
sometimes  gilt,  and  has  commonly  a 
motto — "  Fair  play  is  good  play."  The 
success  depends  on  catching  the  ball  dex- 
terously when  thrown  up,  or  dealt,  and 
carrying  it  off  expeditiously,  in  spite  of 
all  opposition  from  the  adverse  party ;  or, 
if  that  be  impossible,  throwing  it  into  the 
hands  of  a  partner,  who,  in  his  turn, 
exerts  his  efforts  to  convey  it  to  his  own 
goal,  which  is  often  three  or  four  miles' 
distance.  This  sport  therefore  requires 
a  nimble  hand,  a  quick  eye,  a  swift  foot, 
and  skill  in  wrestling;  as  well  as  strength, 
good  wind,  and  lungs.  Formerly  it  was 

*  Friday,  July  15,  1757,  about  seven  in  the  even- 
ing, a  smart  shock  of  an  earthquake  was  felt  at 
Falmouth,  attended  with  great  noise,  which  almost 
every  one  heard,  and  saw  the  windows  and  things  in 
the  houses  in  motion.  As  the  shock  did  not  last 
The  following  communication  was  re-  above  half  a  minute,  the  people  were  not  sensible 

what  it  was  till  afterwards.    Itwas  thought  to  come 
from  the  south-west -and  to  go  eastward. — Centle- 
*  Scotch  paptr.  man's  Magazine. 


23 

LONGEVITY. 

Died,  at  Elderslie,  on  the  twenty-third 
3f  July,  1826,  Hugh  Shaw,  at  the  great 
age  of  113  years.  Till  within  the  pre- 
vious eighteen  months  he  walked  every 
Saturday  to  Paisley,  and  returned,  a  dis- 
tance of  seven  miles.  While  able  to  go 
about,  he  had  no  other  means  of  support 
than  what  he  collected  by  begging  from 
door  to  door.  After  his  confinement  to  the 
house,  he  was  supported  by  private 
bounty.  Previous  to  the  last  three  weeks 
of  his  life,  he  was  able  to  leave  his  bed 
every  day.  Latterly  he  was  blind  and 
deaf.  He  is  said  to  have  left  strict 
charges  that,  as  he  had  never  received 
parish  relief,  he  should  be  buried  without 
its  aid,  even  if  he  were  interred  without 
a  coffin.  His  funeral  was  attended  by  a 
number  of  respectable  inhabitants  of  Pais- 
ley, and  by  a  party  of  the  forty-second 
regiment,  wherein  he  had  served.* 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  64  •  25. 


3ulp 


24. 

REMARKABLE  EARTHQUAKE. 


1009 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  24. 


1010 


practised  annually  by  those  who  attended 
corporate  bodies  in  surveying  the  bounds 
of  parishes  ;  but  from  the  many  accidents 
that  usually  attended  that  game,  it  is  now 
scarcely  ever  practised.  Silver  prizes 
used  to  be  awarded  to  the  victor  in  the 
games. 

Cornish  Wrestling  and  the  Hug. 

The  mode  of  wrestling  in  Cornwall  is 
very  different  from  that  of  Devonshire,  the 
former  is  famous  in  the  "  hug,"  the  latter 
in  kicking  shins.  No  kicks  are  allowed 
in  Cornwall,  unless  the  players  who  are  in 
the  ring  mutually  agree  to  it.  A  hat  is 
thrown  in  as  a  challenge,  which  being 
accepted  by  another,  the  combatants  strip 
and  put  on  a  coarse  loose  kind  of  jacket, 
of  which  they  take  hold,  and  of  nothing 
else  :  the  play  then  commences.  To  con- 
stitute a  fair  fall,  both  shoulders  must 
touch  the  ground,  at,  or  nearly,  the  same 
moment.  To  guard  against  foul  play,  to 
decide  on  the  falls,  and  manage  the  affairs 
of  the  day,  four  or  six  sticklers  (as  the 
umpires  are  called)  are  chosen,  to  whom 
all  these  matters  are  left. 

In  the  "  Cornish  hug,"  Mr.  Polwhele 
perceived  the  Greek  palaestral  attitudes 
finely  revived ;  two  Cornishmen  in  the 
act  of  wrestling,  bear  a  close  resemblance 
to  the  figures  on  old  gems  and  coins. 

The  athletic  exercise  of  wrestling  thrives 
in  the  eastern  part  of  Cornwall,  particu- 
larly about  Saint  Austle  and  Saint 
Columb.  At  the  latter  place  resides  Pol- 
kinhorne,  the  champion  of  Cornwall,  and 
by  many  considered  to  be  entitled  to  the 
championship  of  the  four  western  coun- 
ties. He  keeps  a  respectable  inn  there, 
is  a  very  good-looking,  thick-set  man — 
still  he  does  not  look  the  man  he  is — "  he 
has  that  within  him  that  surpasses  show." 
A  contest  between  him  and  Cann,  the 
Devonshire  champion,  was  expected  to 
take  place  in  the  course  of  this  summer ; 
much  "  chaffing"  passed  between  them 
for  some  time  in  the  country  papers,  but 
it  appears  to  be  "  no  go  ;"  no  fault  of  the 
Cornish  hero,  "  who  was  eager  for  the 
fray" — the  Devonshire  lad  showed  the 
"  white  feather"  it  is  acknowledged  by 
all.  Polkinhorne  has  not  practised  wrest- 
ling for  several  years  past ;  while  Cann 
has  carried  off  the  prize  at  every  place  in 
Devon  that  he  "  showed"  at.  They  cer- 
tainly are  both  "  good  ones."  Parkins,  a 
friend  of  the  Cornish  hero,  is  a  famous 
hand  at  these  games  ;  and  so  was  James 
Warren,  of  Redruth,  till  disabled  in  Feb- 


ruary, 1825,  by  ovei  exertion  on  board 
the  Cambria  brig,  bound  for  Mexico — the 
vessel  that  saved  the  crew  and  passengers 
of  the  Kent  East  Indiaman.  He  has  been 
in  a  very  ill  state  of  health  ever  since  ;  the 
East  India  Company  and  others  have 
voted  him  remuneration,  and  many  of  the 
sufferers  have  acknowledged  their  debt  of 
gratitude  to  him  for  saving  their  lives. 

With  a  view  of  maintaining  the  supe- 
riority in  amusements  in  \vhich  the 
Cornish  delight,  John  Knill,  Esq.  of  great 
eminence  at  St.  Ives,  bequeathed  the  in- 
come of  an  estate  to  trustees,  that  the 
same  might  be  distributed  in  a  variety  of 
prizes,  to  those  who  should  excel  in 
racing,  rowing,  and  wrestling.  These 
games  he  directed  should  be  held  every 
fifth  year  for  ever,  around  a  mausoleum 
which  he  erected  in  1782,  on  a  high  rock 
near  the  town  of  St.  Ives. 

The  first  celebration  took  place  in  July, 
1801,  when,  according  to  the  will  of  the 
founder,  a  band  of  virgins,  all  dressed  in 
white,  with  four  matrons,  and  a  company 
of  musicians,  commenced  the  ceremony 
by  walking  in  pairs  to  the  summit  of  the 
hill,  where  they  danced,  and  chanted  a 
hymn  composed  for  the  purpose  round 
the  mausoleum,  in  imitation  of  druids 
around  the  cromlechs  of  the  departed 
brave.  Ten  guineas  were  expended  in  a 
dinner  at  the  town,  of  which  six  of  the 
principal  inhabitants  partook.  Some 
idea  of  the  joyous  scene  may  be  con- 
ceived by  reading  an  account  of  an  eye- 
witness. 

"  Early  in  the  morning  the  roads  from 
Helston,  Truro,  and  Penzance  were  lined 
with  horses  and  vehicles  of  every  descrip- 
tion, while  thousands  of  travellers  on  foot 
poured  in  from  all  quarters  till  noon,  when 
the  assembly  formed.  The  wrestlers  en- 
tered the  ring ;  the  troop  of  virgins, 
dressed  in  white,  advanced  with  solemn 
step  to  the  notes  of  harmony  ;  the  specta 
tors  ranged  themselves  along  the  hills ;  3 
length  the  mayor  of  St.  Ives  appeared  h 
his  robes  of  state.  The  signal  was  given 
the  flags  were  displayed  in  waving  splen- 
dour from  the  towers  of  the  castle ;  the 
sight  was  grand.  Here  the  wrestlers 
exerted  their  sinewy  strength ;  there  the 
rowers  in  their  various  dresses  of  blue, 
white,  and  red,  urged  the  gilded  prows  of 
their  boats  through  the  sparkling  waves — 
the  dashing  of  oars — the  songs  of  the 
virgins — all  joined  to  enliven  the  picture. 
The  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  Penzance  re- 
turned to  an  elegant  dinner  at  the  Union 


101J 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-JULY  25, 


1012 


hotel,  and  a  splendid  ball  concluded  the 
evening  entertainments." 

These  games  were  again  celebrated  in 
1806,  1811,  1816,  and  1821,  with  in- 
creased fervour  and  renewed  admiration. 

The  following  chorus  was  sung  by  the 
virgins  : — 

Quit  the  bustle  of  the  bay, 

Hasten,  virgins,  come  away  ; 

Hasten  to  the  mountain's  brow 

Leave,  oh  I  leave  St.  Ives  below  ; 

Haste  to  breathe  a  purer  air, 

Virgins  fair,  and  pure  as  fair. 

Quit  St.  Ives  and  all  her  treasures, 

Fly  her  soft  voluptuous  pleasures  j 

Fly  her  sons,  and  all  the  wiles 

Lurkiug  in  thf.ir  wanton  smiles 

Fly  her  splendid  midnight-halls, 

Fly  the  revels  of  her  balls ; 

Fly,  oh  !  fly  the  chosen  seat, 

Where  vanity  and  fashion  meet. 

Hither  hasten ;  form  the  ring, 

Round  the  tomb  in  chorus  sing, 

And  on  the  loft  mountain's  brow,  aptly  dight, 

Just  as  we  should  be — all  in  white, 

Leave  all  our  baskets  and  our  cares  below. 

The  celebration  of  the  foregoing  game 
falls  in  this  year,  1826.  Should  any  thing 
particular  transpire  more  than  the  fore- 
going, you  shall  hear  from 

SAM  SAM'S  SON. 

July  20, 1826. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  63  •  70. 


25. 

ST.  JAMES. 

This  name  in  the  calendar  refers  to  St. 
James  the  Great,  who  was  so  called 
"  either  because  he  was  much  older  than 
the  other  James,  or  because  our  Lord  con- 
ferred upon  him  some  peculiar  honours 
and  favours."*  He  was  put  to  death  under 
Herod. 


«  THE  DEATH  FETCH.' 

A  new  piece  under  the  title  of  "  T/te 
Death  Fetch,  or  the  Student  of  Gottin- 
gen,"  was  brought  out  on  this  day  in 
1826,  at  the  English  Opera-house,  in  the 
Strand.  The  following  notice  of  its  deri- 
vation, with  remarks  on  the  tendency  of 


*  Mr.  Audley. 


the  representation,  appeared  in  the 
"  Times "  the  next  morning : — "  It  is  a 
dramatic  resurrection  of  the  story  of '  The 
Fetches,'  which  is  to  be  found  in  the 
'Tales  of  the  O'Hara  Family,'  and  has 
been  introduced  to  the  stage  by  Mr.  Ben- 
ham,  the  author  of  those  tales.  Consider- 
ing that  it  is  exceedingly  difficult,  through 
the  medium  of  a  dramatic  entertainment, 
to  impress  the  minds  of  an  audience  with 
those  supernatural  imaginings,  which  each 
individual  may  indulge  in  while  reading 
a  volume  of  the  mysterious  and  wonderful, 
we  think  Mr.  Benham  has  manifested 
considerable  adroitness  in  adapting  his 
novel  to  the  stage.  We  think,  at  the 
same  time,  that  his  abilities  might  have 
been  much  better  employed.  The  perpe- 
tuation of  the  idea  of  such  absurd  phan- 
tasies as  fetches  and  fairies — witches  and 
wizards — is  not  merely  ridiculous,  but  it 
is  mischievous.  There  was  scarcely  a 
child  (and  we  observed  many  present) 
who  last  night  witnessed  the  '  fetch'  or 
double  of  the  Gottingen  student  and  his 
mistress,  and  who  recollects  the  wild  glare 
of  Miss  Kelly's  eye,  (fatuity  itself,  much 
less  childhood,  would  have  marked  it,) 
that  will  not  tremble  and  shudder  when 
the  servant  withdraws  the  light  from  the 
resting-place  of  the  infant.  Such  scenes 
cannot  be  useful  to  youth;  arid,  leaving 
the  skill  of  the  actor  out  of  the  question, 
we  know  not  how  they  can  give  pleasure 
to  age.  This  theatre  was  ostensibly  insti- 
tuted as  a  sort  of  stay  and  support  to 
legitimate  '  English  opera  j*  and  we  feel 
convinced  that  one  well-written  English 
opera,  upon  the  model  of  the  old  schoo 
— that  school  so  well  described  by  gena 
ral  Burgoyne,  in  his  preface  to  his  own 
excellent  work,  '  The  Lord  of  the  Manor, 
would  do  more  credit  to  the  proprietor  of 
this  theatre,  and  bring  more  money  to 
his  treasury,  than  4  a  wilderness  of 
Franketisteins  and  Fetches' " 


Rightly  ordered  minds  will  assent  to 
the  observations  in  the  "  Times."  Every 
correct  thinker,  too,  is  aware  that  from 
causes  very  easily  to  be  discovered,  but  not 
necessary  to  trace,  the  "  regular  houses  " 
must  adopt  degrading  and  mischievous 
representations  or  close  their  doors.  Nor 
is  any  accession  to  our  "  stock  plays" 
to  be  expected;  for  if  perchance  a  piece 
of  sterling  merit  were  written,  its  author 
would  be  lamentably  ignorant  of  "  the 
business  of  the  stage"  were  he  to  think 


.013 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— JULY  25. 


1014 


of  "  offering  it."  The  "  regular  drama"  is 
on  its  last  legs. 

Leaving  the  fable  of  the  play  of  the 
"  Death  Fetch"  altogether,  and  merely 
taking  its  name  for  the  purpose  of  acquaint- 
ing the  reader  with  the  attributes  of  a 
"fetch,"  recourse  is  had  in  the  outset  to 
the  "  Tales  of  the  O'Hara  Family."  The 
notions  of  such  of  the  good  people  of 
Ireland,  as  believe  at  this  time  in  that 
"  airy  thing,"  are  set  forth  with  great 
clearness  by  the  author  of  that  woik,  who 
is  a  gentleman  of  the  sister  kingdom  with 
well-founded  claims  to  distinction,  as  a 
man  of  genius  and  literary  ability.  The 
following  is  extracted  preparatory  to 
other  authorities  regarding  "  fetches  "  in 
general. 

A  Tale  of  the  O'Hara  Family. 

I  was  sauntering  in  hot  summer  wea- 
ther by  a  little  stream  that  now  scarce 
strayed  over  its  deep  and  rocky  bed,  often 
obliged  to  glance  and  twine  round  some 
large  stone,  or  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree, 
as  if  exerting  a  kind  of  animated  inge- 
nuity to  escape  and  pursue  its  course.  It 
ran  through  a  valley,  receding  in  almost 
uniform  perspective  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  and  shut  up  at  its  extremity  by  a 
lofty  hill,  sweeping  directly  across  it. 
The  sides  of  the  valley  bore  no  traces 
of  cultivation.  Briers  and  furze  scantily 
clothed  them;  while,  here  and  there,  a 
frittered  rock  protruded  its  bald  forehead 
through  the  thin  copse.  No  shadow  broke 
or  relieved  the  monotonous  sheet  of  light 
that  spread  over  every  object.  The  spare 
grass  and  wild  bushes  had  become  parch- 
ed under  its  influence ;  the  earth,  wherever 
it  was  seen  bare,  appeared  dry  and  crumb- 
ling into  dust;  the  rocks  and  stones  were 
partially  bleached  white,  or  their  few 
patches  of  moss  burnt  black  or  deep  red. 
The  whole  effect  was  fiercely  brilliant,  and 
so  unbroken,  that  a  sparrow  could  not 
have  hopped,  or  a  grass-mouse  raced 
across,  even  in  the  distance,  without  being 
immediately  detected  as  an  intrusion  upon 
the  scene. 

The  desertion  and  silence  of  the  place, 
sympathized  well  with  its  lethargic  fea- 
tures. Not  a  single  cabin  met  my  eye 
through  the  range  of  the  valley;  over 
head,  indeed,  the  gables  of  one  or  two 
peeped  down,  half  hidden  by  their  same- 
ness of  colour  with  the  weather-tanned 
recks  on  which  they  hung,  or  with  the 


heather  that  thatched  them ;  but  they  and 
their  inmates  were  obviously  unconnected 
with  the  solitude  in  which  I  stood,  their 
fronts  and  windows  being  turned  towards 
the  level  country,  and  thence  the  paths 
that  led  to  them  must  also  have  diverged. 
No  moving  thing  animated  my  now  al- 
most supernatural  picture ;  no  cow,  horse, 
nor  sheep,  saunteringly  grazed  along  the 
margin  of  my  wizard  stream.  The  very 
little  birds  flew  over  it,  I  conveniently 
thought,  with  an  agitated  rapidity,  or  if 
one  of  them  alighted  on  the  shrivelled 
spray,  it  was  but  to  look  round  for  a  mo- 
ment with  a  keen  mistrustful  eye;  and 
then  bound  into  its  fields  of  air,  leaving 
the  wild  branch  slightly  fluttered  by  his 
action.  If  a  sound  arose,  it  was  but  what 
its  own  whispering  waters  made;  oi'  the 
herdsboy's  whistle  faintly  echoed  from 
far-off  fields  and  meadows;  or  the  hoarse 
and  lonesome  caw  of  the  rook,  as  he  wing- 
ed his  heavy  flight  towards  more  fertile 
places. 

Amid  all  this  light  and  silence,  a  very 
aged  woman,  wildly  habited,  appeared,  I 
know  not  how,  before  me.  Her  approach 
had  not  been  heralded  by  any  accompa- 
nying noise,  by  any  rustle  among  the 
bushes,  or  by  the  sound  of  a  footstep ;  my 
eyes  were  turned  from  the  direction  in 
which  she  became  visible,  but  again  un- 
consciously recurring  to  it,  fixed  on  the 
startling  figure. 

She  was  low  in  stature,  emaciated,  and 
embrowned  by  age,  sun,  or  toil,  as  it  might 
be ;  her  lank  white  hair  hung  thickly  at 
either  side  of  her  face;  a  short  red  man- 
tle fell  loosely  to  her  knees ;  under  it  a 
green  petticoat  descended  to  within  some 
inches  of  her  ankles;  and  her  arms,  neck, 
head,  and  feet,  were  bare.  There  she 
remained,  at  the  distance  of  only  about 
twenty  yards,  her  small  grey  eyes  vacantly 
set  on  mine;  and  her  brows  strenuously 
knit,  but,  as  I  thought,  rather  to  shadow 
her  sight  from  the  sun,  than  with  any  ex- 
pression of  anger  or  agitation.  Her  look 
had  no  meaning  in  it;  no  passion,  no 
subject.  It  communicated  nothing  with 
which  my  heart  or  thought  held  any  sym- 
pathy; yet  it  was  long,  and  deep,  and 
unwincing.  After  standing  for  some  time, 
as  if  spell-bound  by  her  gaze,  I  felt  con- 
scious of  becoming  uneasy  and  supersti- 
tious in  spite  of  myself;  yet  my  sensation 
was  rather  caused  by  excitement  than  by 
fear,  and  saluting  the  strange  visitant,  I 
advanced  towards  her.  She  stood  on  a 
broad  slab  in  the  centre  of  the  bed  of  the 


1015 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  25. 


1016 


stream,  but  which  was  now  uncovered  by 
the  water.  I  had  to  step  from  stone  to 
stone  in  my  approach,  and  often  wind 
round  some  unusually  gigantic  rock  that 
impeded  my  direct  course ;  one  of  them 
was,  indeed,  so  large,  that  when  I  came 
up  to  it,  my  view  of  the  old  woman  was 
completely  impeded.  This  roused  me 
more :  I  hastily  turned  the  angle  of  the 
rock;  looked  again  for  her  in  the  place 
she  had  stood — but  she  was  gene. — My 
eye  rapidly  glanced  round  to  detect  the 
path  she  had  taken.  I  could  not  see  her. 

Now  I  became  more  disturbed.  I  leaned 
my  back  against  the  rock,  and  for  some 
moments  gazed  along  the  valley.  In  this 
situation,  my  eye  was  again  challenged 
by  her  scarlet  mantle  glittering  in  the  sun- 
light, at  the  distance  of  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  the  spot  where  she  first  ap- 
peared. She  was  once  more  motionless, 
and  evidently  looked  at  me.  I  grew  too 
nervous  to  remain  stationary,  and  hurried 
after  her  up  the  stony  bed  of  the  stream. 

A  second  time  she  disappeared;  but 
when  I  gained  her  second  resting-place,  I 
saw  her  standing  on  the  outline  of  the 
distant  mountain,  now  dwindled  almost 
to  the  size  of  a  crow,  yet,  boldly  relieved 
against  the  back-ground  of  white  clouds, 
and  still  manifested  to  me  by  her  bright 
red  mantle.  A  moment,  and  she  finally 
evaded  my  view,  going  off  at  the  other 
side  of  the  mountain.  This  was  not  to  be 
borne:  I  followed,  if  not  courageously, 
determinedly.  By  my  watch,  to  which  I 
had  the  curiosity  and  presence  of  mind  to 
refer,  it  took  me  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to 
win  the  summit  of  the  hill ;  and  she,  an 
aged  woman,  feeble  and  worn,  had  tra- 
versed the  same  space  in  much  less  time. 
When  I  stood  on  the  ridge  of  the  hill, 
and  looked  abroad  over  a  widely-spread- 
ing country,  unsheltered  by  forest,  thicket, 
or  any  other  hiding-place,  I  beheld  her 
not. 

Cabins,  or,  to  use  the  more  poetical 
name,  authorized  by  the  exquisite  bard  of 
"  O'Connor's  child,"  sheetings,  were  now 
abundantly  strewed  around  me,  and  men, 
women,  and  children,  at  work  in  the 
fields,  one  and  all  assured  me  no  such 
person  had,  that  day,  met  their  notice, 
and  added,  it  was  impossible  she  could 
have  crossed  without  becoming  visible  to 
them.  I  never  again  beheld  (excepting 
in  my  dreams)  that  mysterious  visitant, 
nor  have  ever  been  able  to  ascertain  who 
or  what  she  was. 

After  having  spoken  to  the  peasants,  I 


continued  my  walk,  descending  the  breast 
of  the  mountain  which  faced  the  valley, 
but  now  avoiding  the  latter,  and  saunter- 
ing against  the  thready  current  of  the 
stream,  with  no  other  feeling  that  I  can 
recollect,  but  an  impatience  to  ascertain 
its  hidden  source,  tt  Jed  me  all  round  the 
base  of  the  hill.  I  had  a  book  in  my 
pocket,  with  which  I  occasionally  sat 
down,  in  an  inviting  solitude;  when  tired 
of  it,  I  threw  pebbles  into  the  water,  or 
traced  outlines  on  the  clouds ;  and  the  day 
insensibly  lapsed,  while  I  thus  rioted  in 
the  utter  listlessness  of,  perhaps,  a  dis- 
eased imagination. 

Evening  fell.  I  found  myself,  in  its 
deepest  shades,  once  more  on  the  side  of 
the  mountain  opposite  that  which  turned 
towards  the  valley.  I  sat  upon  a  small 
knoll,  surrounded  by  curves  and  bumps, 
wild  and  picturesque  in  their  solitude.  I 
was  listening  to  the  shrill  call  of  the  plover, 
which  sounded  far  and  faint  along  the 
dreary  hills,  when  a  vivid  glow  of  light- 
ning, followed  by  a  clattering  thunder- 
crash,  roused  me  from  my  reverie.  I 
was  glad  to  take  shelter  in  one  of  the 
cabins,  which  I  have  described  as  rather 
numerously  strewed  in  that  direction. 

The  poor  people  received  me  with  an 
Irish  cead  mille  phalteagh — "  a  hundred 
thousand  welcomes '' — and  I  soon  sat  in 
comfort  by  a  blazing  turf  fire,  with  eggs, 
butter,  and  oaten  bread,  to  serve  my  need 
as  they  might. 

The  family  consisted  of  an  old  couple, 
joint  proprietors  of  my  house  of  refuge ; 
a  son  and  daughter,  nearly  full  grown ; 
and  a  pale,  melancholy-looking  girl  of 
about  twenty  years  of  age,  whom  1  after- 
wards understood  to  be  niece  to  the  old 
man,  and  since  her  father's  death,  under 
his  protection.  From  my  continued  in- 
quiries concerning  my  witch  of  the  glen, 
our  conversation  turned  on  superstitions 
generally.  With  respect  to  the  ancient 
lady  herself,  the  first  opinion  seemed  to 
be — "  the  Lord  only  knows  what  she 
was :" — but  a  neighbour  coming  in,  and 
reporting  the  sudden  illness  of  old  Grace 
Morrissy,  who  inhabited  a  lone  cabin  on 
the  edge  of  the  hill,  my  anecdote  instantly 
occurred  to  the  auditory,  one  and  all; 
and  now,  with  alarmed  and  questioning 
eyes,  fixed  on  each  other,  they  concluded 
I  had  seen  her  "  fetch:"  and  determined 
amongst  themselves  that  she  was  to  die 
before  morning. 

The  "  fetch"  was  not  entirely  new  to 
me,  but  I  had  never  before  been  afforded 


1017 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  26. 


1018 


so  good  an  opportunity  of  becoming  ac- 
quainted with  its  exact  nature  and  extent 
among  the  Irish  peasantry.  I  asked  ques- 
tions, therefore,  and  gathered  some — to 
me — valuable  information. 

In  Ireland,  a"  fetch"  is  the  supernatural 
fac-simile  of  some  individual,  which  comes 
to  ensure  to  its  original  a  happy  longevity, 
or  immediate  dissolution ;  if  seen  in  the 
morning  the  one  event  is  predicted;  if 
in  the  evening,  the  other. 

During  the  course  of  my  questions,  and 
of  the  tales  and  remarks  to  which  they 
gave  rise,  I  could  observe  that  the  pale, 
silent  girl,  listened  to  all  that  was  said 
with  a  deep,  assenting  interest:  or,  sigh- 
ing profoundly,  contributed  only  a  few 
melancholy  words  of  confirmation.  Once, 
when  she  sighed,  the  old  man  remarked 
— "  No  blame  to  you,  Moggy  mavour- 
neen,  fur  it's  you  that  lives  to  know  it 
well,  God  help  you,  this  blessed  night." 
To  these  words  she  replied  with  another 
long-drawn  aspiration,  a  look  upwards, 
and  an  agitation  of  feature,  which  roused 
my  curiosity,  if  not  my  sympathy,  in 
no  ordinary  degree.  I  hazarded  queries, 
shaped  with  as  much  delicacy  as  I  could, 
and  soon  learned  that  she  had  seen,  be- 
fore his  death,  the  "  fetch  "  of  her  beloved 
father.  The  poor  girl  was  prevailed  on 
to  tell  her  own  story;  in  substance  as 
follows : — 

Her  father  had,  for  some  days,  been  ill 
of  a  fever  On  a  particular  evening, 
during  his  illness,  she  had  to  visit  the 
house  of  an  acquaintance  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, and  for  this  purpose,  chose  a  short 
cut  across  some  fields.  Scarcely  arrived 
at  the  stile  that  led  from  the  first  into  the 
second  field,  she  happened  to  look  back, 
and  beheld  the  figure  of  her  father  rapidly 
advancing  in  her  footsteps.  The  girl's 
fear  was,  at  first,  only  human  ;  she  ima- 
gined that,  in  a  paroxysm,  her  father  had 
broken  from  those  who  watched  his  fever- 
ish bed  ;  but  as  she  gazed,  a  consciousness 
crept  through  her,  and  the  action  of  the 
vision  served  to  heighten  her  dread.  It 
shook  its  head  and  hand  at  her  in  an  un- 
natural manner,  as  if  commanding  her  to 
hasten  on.  She  did  so.  On  gaining  the 
second  stile,  at  the  limit  of  the  second 
field,  she  again  summoned  courage  to 
look  behind,  and  again  saw  the  appari- 
tion standing  on  the  first  stile  she  had 
crossed,  and  repeating  its  terrible  gesticu- 
lations. Now  she  ran  wildly  to  the  cottage 
of  her  friend,  and  only  gained  the  thres- 
hold when  she  fainted.  Having  recovered, 


and  related  what  she  saw,  a  strong  party 
accompanied  her  by  a  winding  way,  back 
to  her  father's  house,  for  they  dared  not 
take  that  one  by  which  she  had  come. 
When  they  arrived,  the  old  man  was  a 
corpse;  and  as  her  mother  had  watched 
the  death-struggle  during  the  girl's  short 
absence,  there  could  be  no  question  of 
his  not  having  left  his  bed  in  the  interim. 
The  man  who  had  come  into  us,  and 
whom  my  humble  host  called  "  gossip," 
now  took  up  the  conversation,  and  related, 
with  mystery  and  pathos,  the  appearance 
to  himself  of  the  "  fetch"  of  an  only  child. 
He  was  a  widower,  though  a  young  man, 
and  he  wept  during  the  recital.  I  took  a 
note  of  his  simple  narrative,  nearly  in  his 
own  words ;  and  a  rhyming  friend  has 
since  translated  them  into  metre. 

The  mother  died  when  the  child  was  born, 

And  left  me  her  bady  to  keep  ; 
I  rocked  its  cradle  the  night  and  morn, 

Or,  silent,  hung  o'er  it  to  weep 

'Twas  a  sickly  child  through  its  infancy, 

Its  cheeks  were  so  ashy  pale  j 
Till  it  broke  from  my  arms  to  walk  in  glee 

Out  in  the  sharp  fresh  gale. 

And  then  my  little  girl  grew  strong, 

And  laughed  the  hours  away  j 
Or  sung  me  the  merry  lark's  mountain  song, 

Which  he  taught  her  at  break  of  day. 

When   she    wreathed,    her    hair    in    thicket 
bowers, 

With  the  hedge-rose  and  hare-bell,  blue  ; 
I  called  her  my  May,  in  her  crown  of  flowers, 

And  her  smile  so  soft  and  new. 

And  the  rose,  I  thought,  never  shamed  her 

cheek, 

But  rosy  and  rosier  made  it ; 
And  her  eye  of  blue  did  more  brightly  break, 
Through  the  blue-bell  that  strove  to  shade 
it. 

One  evening  I  left  her  asleep  in  her  smiles, 
And  walked  through  the  mountains,  lonely; 

I  was  far  from  my  darling,  ah  !   many  long 

miles, 
And  I  thought  of  her,  and  her  only  ; 

She  darkened  my  path  like  a  troubled  dream, 

In  that  solitude  far  and  drear ; 
I  spoke  to  my  child  !  but  she  did  not  seem 

To  hearken  with  human  ear 

She  only  looked  with  a  dead,  dead  eye, 
And  a  wan,  wan  cheek  of  sorrow — 

I  knew  her  "  fetch  !"  she  was  called  to  die, 
And  she  died  upon  the  morrow. 


1019 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  2o. 


1020 


Our  young  leaders  are  required  to 
observe  that  these  "  Tales  of  the  O'Hara 
Family"  are  merely  tales,  invented  to 
amuse  the  mind,  cr  create  wonder.  Yet 
things  of  this  sort  are  still  believed  by 
ignorant  people,  and  in  the  dark  ages  they 
were  credited,  or  affected  to  be  credited, 
by  those  who  ought  to  have  known  better. 
Mr.  Brand  has  heaped  together  a  great 
many  of  these  superstitions. 

Besides  general  notices  of  death,  certain 
families  were  reputed  to  have  particular 
warnings ;  some  by  the  appearance  of  a 
bird,  and  others  by  the  figure  of  a  tall 
woman  in  white,  who  shrieked  about  the 
house.  This  in  Ireland  is  called  the 
banshee,  or  "  the  shrieking  woman." 

In  some  of  the  great  families  an  ad- 
monishing demon  or  genius  was  supposed 
to  be  a  visiter.  The  family  of  Rothmur- 
chas  is  alleged  to  have  had  the  bodack 
au  dun,  "  the  ghost  of  the  hill;"  and  the 
Kinchardines  "  the  spectre  of  the  bloody 
hand."  Gartinberg-house  was  said  to 
have  been  haunted  by  Bodach  Gartin, 
and  Tulloch  Gorms  by  Maug  Monlack, 
or  "  the  girl  with  the  hairy  left  hand." 

The  highlanders,  like  the  Irish,  ima- 
gined their  deaths  to  have  been  foretold 
by  the  cries  of  the  benshi,  or  "  the  fairies' 
wife,"  along  the  paths  that  their  funerals 
were  to  tike. 

In  Wales — the  exhalations  in  church- 
yards, called  corpse  candles,  denoted 
coming  funerals.  Very  few  of  the  good 
people  of  Carmarthen  died  without  ima- 
gining they  saw  their  corpse  candles,  or 
death-lights. 

In  Northumberland,  the  vulgar  saw 
their  waff,  or  "  whiff,"  as  a  death  token, 
which  is  similar  to  the  Scotch  ivraitk,  or 
the  appearance  of  a  living  person  to  him- 
self or  others. 


In  some  parts  of  Scotland,  the  "  fetch" 
was  called  the  fye.  It  was  observed  to  a 
woman  in  her  ninety-  ninth  year,  that  she 
could  not  long  survive.  "  Aye,"  said 
she,  with  great  indignation,  "  what  fye- 
token  do  you  see  about  me?"  This  is 
quoted  by  Brand  from  the  "  Statistical 
Account  of  Scotland,"  vol.  xxi.  p.  150; 
and  from  the  same  page  he  cites  an  anec- 
dote to  show  with  what  indifference  death 
is  sometimes  contemplated. 


James  Mackie,  by  trade  a  w right,  was 
asked  by  a  neighbour  for  what  purpose 
he  had  some  fine  deal  in  his  barn.  "  It 
is  timber  for  my  coffin,"  quoth  James. 
"  Sure,"  replies  the  neighbour,  "  you 
mean  not  to  make  your  own  coffin.  You 
have  neither  resolution  nor  ability  for  the 
task."  "  Hout  away  man,"  says  James, 
"  if  I  were  once  begun,  I'll  soon  ca't  by 
hand.'*  The  hand,  but  not  the  heart, 
failed  him,  and  he  left  the  task  of  making 
it  to  a  younger  operator. 

This  anecdote  brought  to  Mr.  Brand's 
remembrance  what  certainly  happened  in 
a  village  in  the  county  of  Durham,  where 
it  is  the  etiquette  for  a  person  not  to  go 
out  of  the  house  till  the  burial  of  a  near 
relation.  An  honest  simple  countryman, 
whose  wife  lay  a  corpse  in  his  house,  was 
seen  walking  slowly  up  the  village :  a 
neighbour  ran  to  him,  and  asked  "  Where 
in  heaven,  John,  are  you  going  ?"  "  To 
the  joiner  's  shop,"  said  poor  John,  "  to 
see  them  make  my  wife's  coffin ;  it  will 
be  a  little  diversion  for  me." 

In  Cumberland,  wraiths  are  called 
swart  hs,  and  in  other  places  "  fetches." 
Their  business  was  to  appear  at  the  mo- 
ment preceding  the  death  of  the  person 
whose  figure  they  assumed.  "  Sometimes," 
says  Brand,  "  there  is  a  greater  interval 
between  the  appearance  and  the  death." 

According  to  Dr.  Jamieson,  the  appear- 
ance of  the  wraith  was  not  to  be  taken  as 
indicating  immediate  death,  "  although, 
in  all  cases,  it  was  viewed  as  a  premoni- 
tion of  the  disembodied  state."  The  sea- 
son of  the  day  wherein  it  was  seen,  was 
understood  to  presage  the  time  of  the 
person's  departure.  If  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, it  was  a  token  of  long  life  and  even 
old  age ;  if  in  the  evening,  it  indicated 
that  death  was  at  hand. 


A  worthy  old  lady  of  exceeding  vera- 
city, frequently  acquainted  the  editor  of 
the  Every-Day  Book  with  her  supposed 
superhuman  sights.  They  were  habitual 
to  her.  One  of  these  was  of  an  absent 
daughter,  whom  she  expected  on  a  visit, 
but  who  had  not  arrived,  when  she  left 
her  chamber  to  go  to  a  lower  part  of  the 
house.  She  was  surprised  on  meeting 
her  on  the  stairs,  for  she  had  not  heard 
the  street  door  opened.  She  expressed 
her  surprise,  the  daughter  smiled  and 
stood  aside  to  let  her  mother  pass,  who 
naturally  as  she  descended,  reached 


1021 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  26,  27. 


1022 


out  her  hand  to  rest  it  on  her  daughter's 
arm  as  assistance  to  her  step ;  but  the 
old  lady  mistook  and  fell  to  the  bottom 
of  the  stairs.  In  fact  her  daughter  was 
not  there,  but  at  her  own  home.  The 
old  lady  lived  some  years  after  this,  and 
her  daughter  survived  her;  though,  ac- 
cording to  her  mother's  imagination  and 
belief,  she  ought  to  have  died  in  a  month 
or  two. 


In  1823,  the  editor  of  this  work  being 
mentally  disordered  from  too  close  ap- 
plication, left  home  in  the  afternoon  to 
consult  a  medical  friend,  and  obtain 
relief  under  his  extreme  depression.  In 
Fleet-street,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
way  to  where  he  was  walking,  he  saw  a 
pair  of  legs  devoid  of  body,  which  he  was 
persuaded  were  his  own  legs,  though  not 
at  all  like  them.  A  few  days  afterwards 
when  worse  in  health,  he  went  to  the 
same  friend  for  a  similar  purpose,  and 
on  his  way  saw  himself  on  precisely  the 
same  spot  as  he  had  imagined  he  had 
seen  his  legs,  but  with  this  difference  that 
the  person  was  entire,  and  thoroughly  a 
likeness  as  to  feature,  form,  and  dress. 
The  appearance  seemed  as  real  as  his  own 
existence.  The  illusion  was  an  effect  of 
disordered  imagination. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .    .  64  •  20. 


She  was  the  mother  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
and  is  a  saint  of  great  magnitude  in  the 
Romish  church.  Her  name  is  in  the 
church  of  England  calendar,  and  the 
almanacs. 

There  are  curious  particulars  concern- 
ing Ann  and  her  husband  St.  Joachim,  in 
vol.  i.  col.  1008. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  67. 


27. 

FALL  OF  NANNEU  OAK. 


THE  HAUNTED   OAK   OF    NANNEU, 
Near  Dolgelly,  in  Merionethshire. 

On  the  twenty-seventh  of  July,  1813, 
sir  Richard  Colt  Hoare,  bart.,  the  elegant 
editor  of  "  Giraldus  Cambrensis,'*  was  at 
Nanneu,  "  the  ancient  seat  of  the  ancient 
family  of  the  Nanneus,"  and  now  the  seat 
of  sir  Robert  Williams  Vaughan,  bart. 
During  that  day  he  took  a  sketch  of  a 
venerable  oak  at  that  place,  within  the 
trunk  of  which,  according  to  Welsh  tra- 
dition, the  body  of  Howel  Sele,  a  power- 
ful chieftain  residing  at  Nanneu,  was  im- 
mured by  order  of  his  rival  Owen  Glyn- 
dwr.  In  the  night  after  the  sketch  was 
taken,  this  aged  tree  fell  to  the  ground. 
An  excellent  etching  of  the  venerable  baro- 
net's drawing  by  Mr.  George  Cuitt  of 
Chester,  perpetuates  the  portrait  of  this 
celebrated  oak  in  its  last  moments.  The 
engraving  on  the  next  page  is  a  mere 
extract  from  this  masterly  etching. 

It  stood  alone,  a  wither*  d  oak 

Its  shadow  fled,  its  branches  broke ; 

Its  riven  trunk  was  knotted  round, 

Its  gnarled  roots  o'erspread  the  ground 

Honours  that  were  from  tempests  won, 

In  generations  long  since  gone, 

A  scanty  foliage  yet  was  seen, 

Wreathing  its  hoary  brows  with  green, 

Like  to  a  crown  of  victory 

On  some  old  warrior's  forehead  grey, 

And,  as  it  stood,  it  seem'J  to  speak 

To  winter  winds  in  murmurs  weak, 

Of  times  that  long  had  passed  it  by 

And  left  it  desolate,  to  sigh 

Of  what  it  was,  and  seem'd  to  wail, 

A  shadeless  spectre,  shapeless,  pale. 

Mrs.  Radcliffe* 

The  charm  which  compels  entrance  to 
Mr.  Cuitt's  print  within  every  portfolio  of 
taste,  is  the  management  of  his  point  in 
the  representation  of  the  beautiful  wood 
and  mountain  scenery  around  the  tree,  to 
which  the  editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book 
would  excite  curiosity  in  those  who 
happen  to  be  strangers  to  the  etching. 
But  this  gentleman's  fascinating  style  is 
independent  of  the  immediate  object  on 
which  he  has  exercised  it,  namely,  "  the 
spirit's  Blasted  Tree,"  an  oak  of  so  great 
fame,  that  sir  Walter  Scott  celebrates  its 
awful  distinction  among  the  descendants 
of  our  aboriginal  ancestors,  by  the  lines 
of  "  Martnion,"  affixed  to  the  annexed 
representation. 


This  is  a  remarkable  incident  in  the 
annals  of  events  relating  to  the  memorials 


Of  past  times. 


capriciously  altered. 


1023 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  27. 


1004 


}?r 

THE  SPIRIT'S  BLASTED  TREE. 

All  nations  have  their  omens  drear, 
Their  legions  wild  of  woe  and  fear, 
To  Cambria  look — the  peasant  see, 
Bethink  him  of  Glendowerdy, 
And  shun  "  the  spirit's  Blasted  Tree." 


Marwion. 


"  The  spirit's  Blasted  Tree"  grew  in 
a  picturesque  part  of  Wales,  abounding 
with  local  superstitions  and  memorials  of 
ancient  times  At  the  distance  of  a  few 


miles  from  the  beautiful  valley  of  Tal  y 
Lyn,  the  aspect  of  the  country  is  pecu- 
liarly wild.  The  hills  almost  meet  at 
their  basis,  and  change  their  aspect.  In- 


102.5 


THE  EVERY'DA)f  BOOK.— JULY  27. 


102c 


stead  of  verdure,  they  have  a  general  rude 
and  savage  appearance.  The  sides  are 
broken  into  a  thousand  forms  ;  some  are 
spiring  and  sharp  pointed ;  but  the  greater 
part  project  forward,  and  impend  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  render  the  apprehension 
of  their  fall  tremendous.  A  few  bushes 
grow  among  them,  but  their  dusky  colour 
as  well  as  the  darkness  of  the  rocks  only 
add  horror  to  the  scene.  One  of  the  pre- 
cipices is  called  Pen  y  Delyn,  from  its 
resemblance  to  a  harp.  Another  is  styled 
Llam  y  Lladron,  or  "  the  Thieves'  Leap," 
from  a  tradition  that  thieves  were  brought 
there  and  thrown  down.  On  the  left  is 
the  rugged  and  far-famed  height  of  Cuder 
Jdris,  and  beneath  it  a  small  lake  called 
Llyn  y  tri  Graienyn,  or  "  the  lake  of  the 
Three  Grains,"  which  are  three  vast  rocks 
tumbled  from  the  neighbouring  moun- 
tain, which  the  peasants  say  were  "  Three 
Grains"  that  had  fallen  into  the  shoe  of 
the  great  Idru,  and  which  he  threw  out 
here,  as  soon  as  he  felt  them  hurting  his 
foot. 

From  thence,  by  a  bad  road,  Mr.  Pen- 
nant, in  one  of  his  "  Tours  in  Wales/' 
reached  Nanneu.  "  The  way  to  Nanneu 
is  a  continual  ascent  of  two  miles ;  and 
perhaps  it  is  the  highest  situation  of  any 
gentleman's  house  in  Britain.  The  estate 
is  covered  with  fine  woods,  which  clothe 
all  the  sides  of  the  dingles  for  many  miles." 
The  continuation  of  Mr.  Pennant's 
description  brings  us  to  our  tree  as  he 
saw  it :  "  On  the  road  side  is  a  venerable 
oak  in  its  last  stage  of  decay,  and  pierced 
by  age  into  the  form  of  a  gothic  arch  ;  yet 
its  present  growth  is  twenty-seven  feet  and 
a  half.  The  name  is  very  classical,  Der- 
wen  Ceubren  yr  Ellyll,  *  the  hollow  oak, 
the  haunt  of  demons/  How  often  has 
not  warm  fancy  seen  the  fairy  tribe  revel 
round  its  trunk  !  or  may  not  the  visionary 
eye  have  seen  the  Hamadryad  burst  from 
the  bark  of  its  coeval  tree." 

The  inscription  beneath  Mr.  Guilt's 
print  mentions,  that  when  sir  Richard 
Colt  Hoare  sketched  this  oak,  it  was  within 
the  kitchen-garden  walls  of  sir  Robert  W. 
V'aughan. 

"  Above  Nanneu,"  Mr.  Pennant  men- 
tions "  a  high  rock,  with  the  top  incircled 
with  a  dike  of  loose  stones  :  this  had  been 
a  British  post,  the  station,  perhaps,  of 
some  tyrant,  it  being  called  Mod  Orthrwn, 
or  « the  Hill  of  Oppression.'  "  Mr.  Pen- 
nant says,  the  park  is  "  remarkable  for  its 
very  small  but  very  excellent  venison:" 
an  affirmation  which  may  be  taken  for 
VOL,  II.— 85. 


correct,  inasmuch  as  the  tour  of  an  anti- 
quary in  such  a  region  greatly  assists 
tasteful  discrimination.  Within  the  park 
Mr.  Pennant  saw  "  a  mere  compost  of 
cinders  and  ashes,"  the  ruins  of  the  house 
of  Howel  Sele,  whose  body  is  alleged  to 
have  been  buried  in  "  the  spirit's  Blasted 
Tree  "  by  Owen  Glyndwr. 


Owen  Glyndwr,  or  Glendower,  is 
rendered  popular  in  England  by  the 
most  popular  of  our  dramatic  poets, 
from  whom  it  may  be  appropriate  to 
take  the  outlines  of  his  poetical  character, 
in  connection  with  the  legend  of  Howel 
Sele's  singular  burial. 

The  first  mention  of  Owen  Glyndwr,  in 
the  works  of  our  great  bard,  is  in  "  King 
Richard  II."  by  Henry  of  Lancaster, 
afterwards  king  Henry  IV.  Before  he 
passes  over  into  Wales,  he  says  in  the 
camp  at  Bristol — 

• Come  lords,  away, 

To  fight  with  Glendower  and  his  complices, 
A  while  to  work,  and  after,  holiday. 

This  line  relating  to  Glendower,  Theo- 
bald deemed  an  interpolation  on  Shak- 
speare,  and  it  has  been  so  regarded  by 
some  subsequent  commentators.  We  have 
"  Owen  Glendower,"  however,  as  one  of 
the  dramatis  personae  in  "  Henry  IV." 
wherein  he  is  first  mentioned  by  the  earl 
of  Westmoreland  as  "  the  irregular  and 
wild  Glendower  :"  king  Henry  calls  him 
"  the  great  magician,  damn'd  Glendower;" 
Hotspur  terms  him  "  great  Glendower ;" 
and  Falstaff  tells  prince  Henry— 

"  There's  villainous  news  abroad— that 
same  mad  fellow  of  the  north,  Percy  ;  and 
he  of  Wales,  that  gave  Amaimon  the 
bastinado — and  swore  the  devil  his  true 
liegeman — he  is  there  too;  that  devil 
Glendower.  Art  thou  not  horribly 
afraid  ?" 

In  the  conference  between  "  Glen- 
dower" and  his  adherents,  he  says  to 
Henry  Percy  :— 


-Sit  good  cousin  Hotspur  : 


For  by  that  name  as  oft  as  Lancaster 

Doth  speak  of  you,  his  cheeks  look  pale ;  and, 

with 
A  rising  sigh,  he  wisheth  you  in  heaven. 

Hot.  And  you  in  hell,  as  often  as  he  hears 
Owen  Glendower  spoke  of. 

Glend.  I  cannot  blame  him :  at  my  nativity 
The  front  of  heaven  was  full  of  fiery  shapev 
Of  burning  cressets  ;  and — at  my  birth, 
The  frame  and  huge  foundation  of  the  cart* 


1027 


THE  EVERYDAY  BOOK.— JULY  27 


1028 


Shak'd  like  a  coward 

The  front  of  heaven  was  full  of  fiery  shapes  ; 
The  goats  ran  from  the  mountains,  and  the 

herds 
Were    strangely    clamorous  to  the  frighted 

fields. 

These  signs  have  rnark'd  me  extraordinary  ; 
And  all  the  courses  of  my  life  do  show, 
1  am  not  in  the  roll  of  common  men. 
Where  is  he  living, — clipp'd  in  with  the  sea, 
That  chides  the  banks  of  England,  Scotland, 

Wales,— 

Which  calls  me  pupil,  or  hath  read  to  me  1 
And  bring  him  out,  that  is  but  woman's  son. 
Can  trace  me  in  the  tedious  ways  of  art, 
And  hold  me  pace  in  deep  experiments. — 
I  can  call  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep — 
I  cau  teach  thee,  cousin,  to  command  the  devil. 

On  occasion  of  the  chiefs  taking  leave 
of  their  wives,  before  they  separate  for 
battle  with  the  king,  Glendower  gives 
proof  of  his  supernatural  powers.  The 
wife  of  Mortimer  proposes  to  soothe  her 
husband  by  singing  to  him  in  her  native 
Welsh,  if  he  will  repose  himself. 

Mart.  With  all  my  heart,  I'll  sit — 
Glend.  Do  SO. 

And  those  musicians  that  shall  play  to  you, 
Hang  in  the  air  a  thousand  leagues  from  hence; 
Yet  straight  they  shall   be   here:    sit,  and 
attend. 

[  The  music  plays. 
Hct.  Now,  I  perceive,  the  devil  understands 

Welsh— 
By'r  lady,  he's  a  good  musician. 


Without  going  into  the  history  of  Owen 
Glyndwr,  it  may  be  observed  that  he 
claimed  the  throne  of  Wales,  and  that  the 
presages  which  Shakspeare  ascribed  to 
his  birth,  are  the  legends  of  old  chroni- 
cles Howel  Sele,  of  Nanneu,  was  his 
first  cousin,  yet  he  adhered  to  the  house 
of  Lancaster,  and  was  therefore  opposed 
to  Owen's  pretensions.  The  abbot  of 
Cymmer,  in  hopes  of  reconciling  them, 
brought  them  together,  and  apparently 
effected  his  purpose.  Howel  was  reckoned 
the  best  archer  of  his  day.  Owen  while 
walking  out  with  him  observed  a  doe 
feeding,  and  told  him  there  was  a  fine 
mark  for  him.  Howel  bent  his  bow, 
and,  pretending  to  aim  at  the  doe, 
suddenly  turned  and  discharged  the 
arrow  full  at  the  breast  of  Glyndwr, 
who  wearing  armour  beneath  his  clothes 
received  no  hurt.  He  seized  on  Sele  for  his 
treachery,  burnt  his  house,  and  hurried 
him  away  from  the  place;  nor  was  it 
known  how  he  was  disposed  of  till  forty 


years  after,  when  the  skeleton  of  a  ]arge 
man,  such  as  Howel,  was  discovered  in 
the  hollow  of  the  great  oak  before  de- 
scribed ;  wherein  it  was  supposed  Owen 
had  •immured  him  in  reward  of  his  perfidy. 
While  Owen  was  carrying  him  off,  his 
rescue  was  attempted  by  his  relation 
Gryffydd  ap  Geoyn  of  Ganllwyd  in  Ar- 
dudwy,  but  he  was  defeated  by  Owen 
with  great  loss  of  men,  and  his  houses  of 
Berthlwyd  and  Cefn  Coch  were  reduced 
to  ashes  * 

Sir  Walter  Scott  to  illustrate  his  lines 
in  "  Marmion,"  inserts,  among  the  notes 
on  that  poem,  a  legendary  tale  by  the  rev. 
George  Warrington  with  this  preface  : — 

"  The  event,  on  which  this  tale  is 
founded,  is  preserved  by  tradition  in  the 
family  of  the  Vaughans  of  Hengwyrt;  nor 
is  it  entirely  lost,  even  among  the  com- 
mon people,  who  still  point  out  this  oak 
to  the  passenger.  The  enmity  between 
the  two  Welsh  chieftains,  Howel  Sele 
and  Owen  Glendwr,  was  extreme,  and 
marked  by  vile  treachery  in  the  one,  and 
ferocious  cruelty  in  the  other.  The  story 
is  somewhat  changed  and  softened,  as 
more  favourable  to  the  characters  of  the 
two  chiefs,  and  as  better  answering  the 
purpose  of  poetry,  by  admitting  the  pas- 
sion of  pity,  and  a  greater  degree  of  sen- 
timent in  the  description.  Some  trace  of 
Howel  Sele's  mansion  was  to  be  seen  a 
few  years  ago,  and  may  perhaps  be  still 
visible  in  the  park  of  Nanneu,  now 
belonging  to  sir  Robert  Vaughan,  baronet, 
in  the  wild  and  romantic  tracts  of  Merio- 
nethshire. The  abbey  mentioned  passes 
under  two  names,  Vener  and  Cymmer. 
The  former  is  retained,  as  more  generally 
used. 

THE  SPIRIT'S  BLASTED  TREE. 

Ceubren  yr  Ellyll. 
Through  Nannau's  Chace  as  Howel  passed. 

A  chief  esteemed  both  brave  and  kind, 
Far  distant  borne,  the  stag-hound's  cry 
Came  murmuring  on  the  hollow  wind 

Starting,  he  bent  an  eager  ear, — 

How  should  the  sounds  return  again  ? 

His  hounds  lay  wearied  from  the  chace, 
And  all  at  home  his  hunter  train. 

Then  sudden  anger  flash'd  his  eye, 
And  deep  revenge  he  vowed  to  take 

On  that  bold  man  who  dared  to  force 
His  red  deer  from  the  forest  brake. 

•  Pennant. 


1029 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  2? 


1030 


Unhappy  chief!  would  nought  avail, 
No  signs  impress  thy  heart  with  fear, 

Thy  lady's  dark  mysterious  dream, 
Thy  warning  from  the  hoary  seer  ? 

Three  ravens  gave  the  note  of  death, 

As  through  mid  air  they  winged  their  way  ; 

Then  o'er  his  head,  in  rapid  flight, 

They  croak, — they  scent  their  destined  prey. 

Ill  omened  bird  1  as  legends  say, 

Who  hast  the  wonderous  power  to  know, 

While  health  fills  high  the  throbbing  veins, 
The  fated  hour  when  blood  must  flow. 

Blinded  by  rage  alone  he  passed, 
Nor  sought  his  ready  vassals'  aid  : 

But  what  his  fate  lay  long  unknown, 
For  many  an  anxious  year  delayed. 

A  peasant  marked  his  angry  eye, 

He  saw  him  reach  the  lake's  dark  bourne, 

He  saw  him  near  a  blasted  oak, 
But  never  from  that  hour  return. 

Three  days  passed  o'er,  no  tidings  came; — 
Where  should  the  chief  his  steps  delay  ? 

With  wild  alarm  the  servants  ran, 

Yet  knew  uot  where  to  point  their  way. 

His  vassals  ranged  the  mountain's  height, 
The  covert  close,  and  wide-spread  plain; 

But  all  iu  vain  their  eager  search, 
They  ne'er  must  see  their  lord  again. 

Yet  fancy,  in  a  thousand  shapes, 

Bore  to  his  home  the  chief  once  more 

Some  saw  him  on  high  Moel's  top, 
Some  saw  him  on  the  winding  shore. 

With  wonder  fraught  the  tale  went  round, 
Amazement  chained  the  hearer's  tongue ; 

Each  peasant  felt  his  own  sad  loss, 
Yet  fondly  o'er  the  story  hung. 

Oft  by  the  moon's  pale  shadowy  light, 
His  aged  nurse,  and  steward  grey, 

Would  lean  to  catch  the  storied  sounds, 
Or  mark  the  flittering  spirit  stray. 

Pale  lights  ou  Cader's  rocks  were  seen, 
And  midnight  voices  heard  to  moan  ; 

'Twas  even  said  the  blasted  oak, 
Convulsive,  heaved  a  hollow  groan : 

And,  to  this  day,  the  peasant  still, 

With  cautious  fear,  avoids  the  ground ; 

In  each  wild  branch  a  spectre  sees, 
A.nd  trembles  at  each  rising  sound. 

Ten  annual  suns  had  held  their  course, 
ID  summer's  smile,  or  winter's  storm  ; 

The  lady  shed  the  widowed  tear, 
As  oft  she  traced  his  manly  form. 

Yet  still  to  hope  her  heart  would  cling 
As  o'er  the  miad  illusions  play, — 

Of  travel  fond,  perhaps  her  lord        --^t-s 
To  distant  lands  had  steered  his  way. 


'Twas  now  November's  cheerless  hour, 
Which  drenching  rain  and  clouds  deface  t 

Dreary  bleak  Robell's  tract  appeared, 
And  dull  and  dank  each  valley's  space. 

Loud  o'er  the  wier  the  hoarse  food  fell, 
And  dashed  the  foamy  spray  on  high  j 

The  west  wind  bent  the  forest  tops, 
And  angry  frowned  the  evening  sky. 

A  stranger  passed  Llanelltid's  bourne, 
His  dark-grey  steed  with  sweat  besprent, 

Which,  wearied  with  the  lengthened  way, 
Could  scarcely  gain  the  hill's  ascent. 

The  portal  reached, — the  iron  bell 
Loud  sounded  round  the  outward  wall 

Quick  sprang  the  warder  to  the  gate, 
To  know  what  meant  the  clamorous  call. 

"  O !  lead  me  to  your  lady  soon  j 

Say, — it  is  my  sad  lot  to  tell, 
To  clear  the  fate  of  that  brave  knight, 

She  long  has  proved  she  loved  so  well." 

Then,  as  he  crossed  the  spacious  hall, 
The  menials  look  surprise  and  fear: 

Still  o'er  his  harp  old  Modred  hung, 

And  touched  the  notes  for  griefs  worn  ear. 

The  lady  sat  amidst  her  train  ; 

A  mellowed  sorrow  marked  her  look  : 
Then,  asking  what  his  mission  meant, 

The  graceful  stranger  sighed  and  spoke : — 

"  O  could  I  spread  one  ray  of  hope, 
One  moment  raise  thy  soul  from  woe, 

Gladly  my  tongue  would  tell  its  tale, 
My  words  at  ease  unfettered  flow ! 

"  Now,  lady,  give  attention  due, 
The  story  claims  thy  full  belief: 

E'en  in  the  worst  events  of  life, 
Suspense  removed  is  some  relief. 

"  Though  worn  by  care,  see  Madoc  here, 
Great  Glyndwr's  friend,  thy  kindred's  foe , 

Ah,  let  his  name  no  anger  raise, 
For  now  that  mighty  chief  lies  low. 

"  E'en  from  the  day,  when,  chained  by  fatt. 

By  wizard's  dream  or  potent  spell. 
Lingering  from  sad  Salopia's  field, 

'Reft  of  his  aid  the  Percy  fell : — 

u  E'en  from  that  day  misfortune  still, 

As  if  for  violated  faith, 
Pursued  him  with  unwearied  step 

Vindictive  still  for  Hotspur's  death. 

"  Vanquished  at  length,  the  Glyndwr  fled 
Where  winds  the  Wye  her  devious  flood ; 

To  find  a  casual  shelter  there, 
In  some  lone  cot,  or  desert  wood. 

"  Clothed  in  a  shepherd's  humble  guise,        • 
He  gained  by  toil  his  scanty  bread ; 

He  who  had  Cambria's  sceptre  borne, 
And  her  brave  sons  to  glory  led.' 


1031 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-JULY  27. 


icm 


**  To  penury  extreme,  and  grief, 
The  chieftain  fell  a  lingering  prey ; 

I  heard  his  last  few  faultering  words, 
Such  as  with  pain  I  now  convey. 

"  *  To  Sele's  sad  widow  bear  the  tale 

Nor  let  our  horrid  secret  rest ; 
Give  but  his  corse  to  sacred  earth, 

Then  may  my  parting  soul  be  blest.'  — 

"  Dim  waxed  the  <*ye  that  fiercely  shone, 
And  faint  the  tongue  that  proudly  spoke 

And  weak  that  arm,  still  raised  to  me, 
Which  oft  had  dealt  the  mortal  stroke. 

"  How  could  I  then  his  mandate  bear 

Or  how  his  last  behest  obey  ? 
A  rebel  deemed,  with  him  I  fled  ; 

With  him  I  shunned  the  light  of  day. 

"  Proscribed  by  Henry's  hostile  rage, 
My  country  lost,  despoiled  my  land, 

Desperate,  I  fled  my  native  soil, 
And  fought  on  Syria's  distant  strand. 

"  Q,  had  thy  long  lamented  lord 
The  holy  cross  and  banner  viewed, 

Died  in  the  sacred  cause !  who  fell 
Sad  victim  of  a  private  feud ! 

"  Led,  by  the  ardour  of  the  chace, 
far  distant  from  his  own  domain  ; 

From  where  Garthmaelan  spreads  her  shades, 
The  Glyndwr  sought  the  opening  plain. 

"  With  head  aloft,  and  antlers  wide, 

A  red  buck  roused,  then  crossed  in  view , 

Stung  with  the  sight,  and  wild  with  rage, 
Swift  from  the  wood  fierce  Howel  flew. 

41  With  bitter  taunt,  and  keen  reproach, 
He,  all  impetuous,  poured  his  rage, 

Reviled  the  chief  as  weak  in  arms, 
And  bade  him  loud  the  battle  wage. 

"  Glyndwr  for  once  restrained  his  sword, 
And,  still  averse,  the  fight  delays ; 

But  softened  words,  like  oil  to  fire, 
Made  anger  more  intensely  blaze. 

'  They  fought;  and  doubtful  Jong  the  fray ! 

The  Glyndwr  gave  the  fatal  wound ! 
Still  mournful  must  my  tale  proceed, 

And  its  last  act  all  dreadful  sound. 

"  How  could  we  hope  for  wished  retreat 
His  eager  vassals  ranging  wide  ? 

His  bloodhounds'  keen  sagacious  scent, 
O'er  many  a  trackless  mountain  tried  ? 

"  I  marked  a  broad  and  blasted  oak. 
Scorched  by  the  lightning's  livid  glare 

Hollow  its  stem  from  branch  to  root, 
And  all  its  shrivelled  arms  were  bare. 

"  Be  this,  I  cried,  his  proper  grave  ! — 
(The  thought  in  me  was  deadly  sin.) 

Aloft  we  raised  the  hapless  chief, 
And  dropped  his  bleeding  corpse  within." 


A  shriek  from  all  the  damsels  burst, 
That  pierced  the  vaulted  roofs  below , 

While  horror-struck  the  lady  stood, 
A  living  form  of  sculptured  woe. 

With  stupid  stare,  and  vacant  gaze, 
Full  on  his  face  her  eyes  were  cast, 

Absorbed  ! — she  lost  her  present  grief, 
And  faintly  thought  of  things  long  past 

Like  wild-fire  o'er  the  mossy  heath, 
The  rumour  through  the  hamlet  ran  : 

The  peasants  crowd  at  morning  dawn, 
To  hear  the  tale, — behold  the  man. 

He  led  them  near  the  blasted  oak, 

Then,  conscious,  from  the  scene  withdrew: 

The  peasant's  work  with  trembling  haste, 
And  lay  the  whitened  bones  to  view ! — • 

Back  they  recoiled! — the  right  hand  still, 
Contracted,  grasped  a  rusty  sword  ; 

Which  erst  in  many  a  battle  gleamed, 

And  proudly  decked  their  slaughtered  lord. 

They  bore  the  corse  to  Vener's  shrine, 
With  holy  rites,  and  prayers  addressed  ; 

Nine  white-robed  monks  the  last  dirge  sang, 
And  gave  the  angry  spirit  rest. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  real 
history  of  Howel  Sele's  death  is  to  be 
collected  from  Mr.  Pennant's  account  of 
their  sudden  feud  already  related  ;  though 
he  by  no  means  distinctly  states  whether 
Glyndwr  caused  him  to  be  placed  in  the 
oak  after  he  had  been  slain,  or  "  im- 
mured" him  alive  and  lef.  him  to  perish. 
It  is  rather  to  be  inferred  that  he  was 
condemned  by  his  kinsmen  to  the  latter 
fate.  According  to  Pennant  he  perished 
in  the  year  1402,  and  we  see  that  his  living 
burial  place  survived  him,  pierced  and 
hallowed  by  the  hand  of  time,  upwards 
of  four  centuries. 

SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY'S  OAK. 

In  an  elegant  volume  called  "  Sylvan 
Sketches,  a  companion  to  the  park  and 
the  shrubbery,  with  illustrations  from  the 
works  of  the  poets  by  the  author  of  the 
Flora  Dome&tica,"  there  is  a  delightful 
assemblage  of  poetical  passages  on  the 
oak,  with  this  memorial  of  a  very  cele- 
brated one : — 

"  An  oak  was  planted  at  Penshurst  on 
the  day  of  sir  Philip  Sidney's  birth,  of 
which  Martyn  speaks  as  standing  in  his 
time,  and  measuring  twenty-two  feet 
round.  This  tree  has  since  been  felled, 
it  is  said  by  mistake ;  would  it  be  im- 
possible to  make  a  similar  mistake  with 
regard  to  the  mistakerf 


1033 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  28, 


1034 


"  Several  of  our  poets  have  celebrated 
this  tree :  Ben  Jonson  in  his  lines  to 
Penshurst,  says, — 

'  Thou  hast  thy  walks  for  health  as  well  as 

sport ; 

Thy  mount  to  which  thy  Dryads  do  resort, 
Where  Pan  and  Bacchus  their  high  seats  have 

made, 

Beneath  the  broad  beech  and  the  chesnut  shade, 
That  taller  tree  which  of  a  nut  was  set, 
At  his  great  birth  where  all  the  muses  met. 
There  in  the  wriihed  bark  are  cut  the  names 
Of  many  a  sylvan  taken  with  his  flames.' 
"  It  is  mentioned  by  Waller : — 

*  Go,  boy,  and  carve  this  passion  on  the  bark 
Of  yonder  tree,  which  stands  the  sacred  mark 
Of  noble  Sidney's  birth.' 

**  Southey  says,  speaking  of  Penshurst — 

'  Sidney  here  was  born. 

Sidney  than  whom  no  greater,  braver  man, 
His  own  delightful  genius  ever  feigned, 
Illustrating  the  vales  of  Arcady 
With  courteous  courage,  and  with  loyal  loves. 
Upou  his  natal  day  the  acorn  here 
Was  planted ;  it  grew  up  a  stately  oak, 
And  in  the  beauty  of  its  strength  it  stood 
And  flourished,  when  its  perishable  part 
Had  mouldered  dust  to  dust.    That  stately  oak 
Itself  hath  mouldered  now,  but  Sidney's  name 
Endureth  in  his  own  immortal  works.' 

"  This  tree  was  frequently  called  the 
'  bare  oak,'  by  the  people  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood, from  a  resemblance  it  was 
supposed  to  bear  to  the  oak  which  gave 
name  to  the  county  of  Berkshire.  Tra- 
dition says,  that  when  the  tenants  went 
to  the  park  gates  as  it  was  their  custom 
to  do  to  meet  the  earl  of  Leicester,  when 
they  visited  that  castle,  they  used  to  adorn 
their  hats  with  boughs  from  this  tree. 
Within  the  hollow  of  its  trunk  was  a  seat 
which  contained  five  or  six  persons  with 
ease  and  convenience." 


THE  OAK  OF  MAMRE. 

We  are  told  that  this  oak  was  standing 
in  the  fourth  century.  Isidore  affirms 
that  when  he  was  a  child  in  the  reign  of 
the  emperor  Constantius,  he  was  shown 
a  turpentine  tree  very  old,  which  declared 
its  age  by  its  bulk,  as  the  tree  under 
which  Abraham  dwelt ;  that  the  heathens 
had  a  surprising  veneration  for  it,  and 
distinguished  it  by  an  honourable  appel- 
lation.* Some  affirm  that  it  existed 
within  the  last  four  centuries. 

•  Bayle,  art.  Abraham. 


At  the  dispersion  of  the  Jews  under 
Adrian,  about  the  year  134,  "  an  incre- 
dible number  of  all  ages  and  sexes 
were  sold  at  the  same  price  as  horses,  hi 
a  very  famous  fair  called  the  fair  of  the 
turpentine  tree:  whereupon  the  Jews 
had  an  abhorrence  for  that  fair."  St. 
Jerome  mentions  the  place  at  which  the 
Jews  were  sold  under  the  name  of  "  Abra- 
ham's tent ;"  where,  he  says,  "  is  kept  an 
annual  fair  very  much  frequented."  This 
place  "  on  Harare's  fertile  plains,"  is 
alleged  to  have  been  the  spot  where 
Abraham  entertained  the  angels.* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  50. 


28. 


ST.  DECLAN. 

The  festival  of  this  saint,  who  was  the 
first  bishop  of  Ardmore,  in  the  county  of 
Waterford,  is  held  on  the  twenty-fourth 
ef  the  month.  The  brief  memoir  of  St. 
Declan,  by  Alban  Butler,  did  not  seem 
to  require  notice  of  him  on  that  day  ;  but 
the  manner  wherein  the  feast  was  cele- 
brated in  1826,  is  so  remarkably  particu- 
larized in  an  Irish  paper,  as  to  claim 
attention. 

Ardmore  and  its  Patron. 

St.  Declan  is  represented  to  have  been 
the  friend  and  companion  of  St.  Patrick, 
and,  according  to  tradition,  Ardmore  was 
an  episcopal  see,  established  in  the  fifth 
century  by  St.  Declan,  who  was  born  in 
this  county,  and  was  of  the  family  of  the 
Desii.  He  travelled  for  education  to 
Rome,  resided  there  for  some  years,  was 
afterwards  ordained  by  the  pope,  returned 
to  his  own  country  about  the  year  402, 
and  about  that  time  founded  the  abbey 
and  was  made  bishop  of  Ardmore.  He 
lived  to  a  great  age;  and  his  successor, 
St.  Ulthan,  was  alive  in  the  year  550. 
A  stone,  a  holy  well,  and  a  dormitory,  in 
the  churchyard,  still  bear  the  name  of  St. 
Declan.  "  St.  Declan's  stone"  is  on  the 
beach  ;  it  is  a  large  rock,  resting  on  two 
others,  which  elevate  it  a  little  above  the 
ground.  On  the  twenty-fourth  of  July, 
the  festival  of  the  saint,  numbers  of  the 
lowest  class  do  penance  on  their  bare 
knees  around  the  stone,  and  some,  with 

*  Bayle,  art.  Barcocheba*. 


1035 


THE  E  VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  29. 


1036 


great  pain  and  difficulty,  creep  under  it, 
in  expectation  thereby  of  curing  or  pre- 
venting, what  it  is  much  more  likely  to 
create,  rheumatic  affections  of  the  back. 
In  the  churchyard  is  the  "  dormitory  of 
St.  Declan,"  a  small  low  building,  held  in 
great  veneration  by  the  people  in  the 
neighbourhood,  who  frequently  visit  it  in 
order  to  procure  some  of  the  earth,  which 
is  supposed  to  cover  the  relics  of  the 
saint.* 

On  the  twenty-fourth  of  July,  1826, 
several  thousand  persons  of  all  ages  and 
both  sexes  assembled  at  Ardmore.  The 
greater  part  of  the  extensive  strand,  which 
forms  the  western  side  of  the  bay,  was 
literally  covered  by  a  dense  mass  of  peo- 
ple. Tents  and  stands  for  the  sale  of 
whiskey,  &c.  were  placed  in  parallel 
rows  along  the  shore ;  the  whole  at  a  dis- 
tance bore  the  appearance  of  a  vast  en- 
campment. Each  tent  had  its  green  ensign 
waving  upon  high,  bearing  some  patriotic 
motto.  One  of  large  dimensions,  which 
floated  in  the  breeze  far  above  the  others, 
exhibited  the  words  "  Villiers  Stuart  for 
ever." 

At  an  early  hour,  those  whom  a  reli- 
gious feeling  had  drawn  to  the  spot,  com- 
menced their  devotional  exercises  by 
passing  under  the  holy  rock  of  St.  Declan. 
The  male  part  of  the  assemblage  were 
clad  in  trowsers  and  shirts,  or  in  shirts 
alone  ;  the  females,  in  petticoats  pinned 
above  the  knees,  and  some  of  the  more 
tjevout  in  chemises  only.  Two  hundred 
and  ninety  persons  of  both  sexes  thus  pre- 
pared, knelt  at  one  time  indiscriminately 
around  the  stone,  and  passed  separately 
under  it  to  the  other  side.  This  was  not 
effected  without  considerable  pain  and 
difficulty,  owing  to  the  narrowness  of  the 
passage,  and  the  sharpness  of  the  rocks. 
Stretched  at  full  length  on  the  ground  on 
the  face  and  stomach,  each  devotee  moved 
forward,  as  if  in  the  act  of  swimming,  and 
thus  squeezed  or  dragged  themselves 
through.  Upwards  of  eleven  hundred 
persons  of  both  sexes,  in  a  state  of  half 
nudity,  were  observed  to  undergo  the 
ceremony  in  the  course  of  the  day.  A 
reverend  gentleman,  who  stood  by  part  of 
the  time,  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "*O,  great 
is  tb«ir  faith."  Several  of  their  reverences 
23j5se«i  and  re-passed  to  and  from  the 
cnapei  close  by  the  '*  noly  rock,"  during 
the  day.  The  "  holy  rock,"  of  so  great 
veneration,  is  believed  to  be  endued  with 


Ityland'i  History  of  w«t 


miraculous  powers.  It  is  said  to  have 
been  wafted  from  Rome  upon  the  surface 
of  the  ocean,  at  the  period  of  St.  Declan's 
founding  his  church  at  Ardmore,  and  to 
have  borne  on  its  top  a  large  bell  for  the 
church  tower,  and  vestments  for  the  saint. 

At  a  short  distance  from  this  sacred 
memorial,  on  a  cliff  overhanging  the  sea, 
is  the.  well  of  the  saint.  Thither  the 
crowds  repair  after  the  devotions  at  the 
rock  are  ended.  Having  drank  plentifully 
of  its  water,  they  wash  their  legs  and  feet 
in  the  stream  which  issues  from  it,  and, 
telling  their  beads,  sprinkle  themselves 
and  their  neighbours  with  the  fluid. 
These  performances  over,  the  grave  of  the 
patron  saint  is  then  resorted  to.  Hun- 
dreds at  a  time  crowded  around  it,  and 
crush  each  other  in  their  eagerness  to 
obtain  a  handful  of  the  earth  which  is 
believed  to  cover  the  mortal  remains  of 
Declan.  A  woman  stood  breast  high  in 
the  grave,  and  served  out  a  small  portion 
of  its  clay  to  each  person  requiring  it, 
from  whom  in  return  she  received  a  penny 
or  halfpenny  for  the  love  of  the  saint.  The 
abode  of  the  saint's  earthly  remains  has 
sunk  to  the  depth  of  nearly  four  feet,  its 
clay  having  been  scooped  away  by  the 
finger  nails  of  the  pious.  A  human  skull 
of  large  dimensions  was  placed  at  the 
head  of  the  tomb,  before  which  the  people 
bowed,  believing  it  to  be  the  identical 
skull  of  the  tutelar  saint. 

This  visit  to  St.  Declan's  grave  com- 

Eleted  the  devotional  exercises  of  a  day 
eld  in  greater  honour  than  the  sabbath, 
by  those  who  venerate  the  saint's  name, 
and  worship  at  his  shrine.  The  tents 
which  throughout  the  day,  from  the  duties 
paid  to  the  "  patron,"  had  been  thronged 
with  the  devotionalists  of  the  morning, 
resounded  from  evening  till  daybreak, 
with  sounds  inspired  by  potations  of 
whiskey :;  and  the  scene  is  so  character- 
ised by  its  reporter  as  to  seem  exagge- 
rated.* 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  35. 


29. 

ST.  MARTHA. 

On  the  festival  of  this  saint  of  the  Ro- 
mish church,  a  great  fair  is  held  at  Beau- 
caire,  in  Languedoe,  to  which  merchants 

»  Water  ford  Mail. 


1037 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  29. 


103P 


and  company  resort  from  a  great  distance 
round.  It  is  a  great  mart  for  smugglers 
and  contraband  traders,  and  is  the  harvest 
of  the  year  both  to  Beaucaire  and  Taras- 
con;  for,  as  the  former  is  not  large  enough 
to  accommodate  the  influx  of  people, 
Tarascon,  in  Provence,  which  is  separated 
from  it  by  the  Rhone,  is  generally  equally 
full. 

Tarascon,  according  to  a  popular  tra- 
dition, has  its  name  from  JL  terrible  beast, 
a  sort  of  dragon,  known  by  the  name  of 
the  tarasque,  which,  in  ancient  days,  in- 
fested the  neighbourhood,  ravaging  the 
country,  and  killing  every  thing  that  came 
in  its  way,  both  man  and  beast,  and  elud- 
ing every  endeavour  made  to  take  and 
destroy  it,  till  St.  Martha  arrived  in  the 
town,  and  taking  compassion  on  the  ge- 
neral distress,  went  out  against  the  mon- 
ster, and  brought  him  into  the  town  in 
chains,  when  the  people  fell  upon  him 
and  slew  him. 

St.  Martha,  according  to  the  chronicles 
of  Provence,  had  tied  from  her  own  coun- 
try in  company  with  her  sister  Mary 
Magdalen,  her  brother  Lazarus,  and  se- 
veral other  saints  both  male  and  female. 
They  landed  at  Marseilles,  and  imme- 
diately spread  themselves  about  the  coun- 
try to  preach  to  the  people.  It  fell  to  the 
lot  of  St.  Martha  to  bend  her  steps  to- 
wards Tarascon,  where  she  arrived  at  the 
fortunate  moment  above  mentioned.  She 
continued  to  her  dying  day  particularly 
to  patronise  the  place,  and  was  at  her  own 
request  interred  there.  Her  tomb  is  shown 
in  a  subterranean  chapel  belonging  to  the 
principal  church.  It  bears  her  figure 
in  -.vhite  marble,  as  large  as  life,  in  a  re- 
cumbent posture,  and  is  a  good  piece  of 
sculpture,  uninjured  by  the  revolution. 
In  the  church  a  series  of  paintings  repre- 
sent the  escape  of  St.  Martha  and  her 
companions  from  their  persecutors,  their 
landing  in  Provence,  and  some  of  their 
subsequent  adventures.  She  is  this  patron 
saint  of  Tarascon. 

It  is  presumed  that  the  story  of  a  beast 
ravaging  the  neighbouring  country  had 
its  origin  in  fact;  but  that  instead  of  a 
dreadful  dragon  it  was  a  hyena.  Bouche, 
however,  in  his  JSssai  sur  I'Histoire  de 
Provence,  while  he  mentions  the  popular 
tradition  of  the  dragon,  makes  no  mention 
of  the  supposed  hyena,  which  he  probably 


would  have  done  had  there  been  any  good 
ground  for  believing  in  its  existence. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  fabulous  story  of 
the  dragon  was  the  occasion  of  establish- 
ing an  annual  festival  at  Tarascon,  the 
reputed  origin  of  which  seems  no  less  fa- 
bulous than  the  story  itself.  According 
to  the  tradition,  the  queen,  consort  to  the 
reigning  sovereign  of  the  country,  unac- 
countably fell  into  a  deep  and  settled  me- 
lancholy, from  which  she  could  not  be 
roused.  She  kept  herself  shut  up  in  her 
chamber,  and  would  not  see  or  be  seen 
by  any  one;  medicines  and  amusements 
were  in  vain,  till  the  ladies  of  Tarascon 
thought  of  celebrating  a  festival,  which 
they  hoped,  from  its  novelty  might  im- 
press the  mind  of  their  afhicted  sovereign. 

A  figure  was  made  to  represent  the 
"  tarasque,"  with  a  terrible  head,  a  terri- 
ble mouth,  with  two  terrible  rows  of  teeth, 
wings  on  its  back,  and  a  terrible  long  tail. 
At  the  festival  of  St.  Martha,  by  whom 
the  "tarasque"  was  chained,  this  figure 
was  led  about  for  eight  days  successively, 
by  eight  of  the  principal  ladies  in  the 
town,  elegantly  dressed,  and  accompanied 
by  a  band  of  music.  The  procession  was 
followed  by  an  immense  concourse  of 
people,  in  their  holyday  clothes ;  and  du- 
ring the  progress,  alms  were  collected  for 
the  poor.  All  sorts  of  gaieties  were  exhi- 
bited ;  balls,  concerts,  and  shows  of  every 
kind — nothing,  in  short,  was  omitted  to 
accomplish  the  purpose  for  which  the  fes- 
tival was  instituted. 

And  her  majesty  condescended  to  be 
amused :  that  hour  her  melancholy  ceased, 
and  never  after  returned.  Whether  the 
honour  of  this  happy  change  was  wholly 
due  to  the  procession,  or  whether  the 
saint  might  not  assist  the  efforts  of  the 
patriotic  ladies  of  Tarascon,  by  working 
a  miracle  in  favour  of  the  restoration  of 
the  queen's  health,  is  not  on  record  ;  but 
her  malady  never  returned;  and  the 
people  of  Tarascon  were  so  much  delight- 
ed by  the  processsion  of  the  "  tarasque/' 
that  it  was  determined  to  make  the 
festival  an  annual  one. 


This  festival  was  observed  till  the  revo- 
lution ;  but  in  "  the  reign  of  terror,"  the 
people  of  Aries,  between  whom  and  those 
of  Tarascon  a  great  jealousy  and  rivalship 
had  for  many  years  subsisted,  came  in  a 
body  to  the  latter  place,  and,  seizing  the 
"tarasque,"  burnt  it  in  the  market-place. 


1039 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK  — J UL i  29. 


i040 


This  piece  of  petty  spite  sadly  chagrin- 
ed the  Tarasconians.  Their  "  tarasque  " 
was  endeared  to  them  by  its  antiqui- 
ty, as  well  as  by  :he  amusement  it  af- 
forded them.  For  four  years  the  festival 
»f  the  "  tarasque"  remained  uncelebrated, 
tvhen  an  attempt  was  made  to  reestablish 
jft ;  a  new  "  tarasque  "  was  procured  by 
subscription  among  the  people;  but  this 
also  was  seized  by  the  Arletins,  and  car- 
ried over  the  river  to  Beaucaire,  where  it 
remained  ever  since. 

"  However,"  said  a  hostess  of  Tarascon 
to  Miss  Plumptre,  "  since  Buonaparte 
has  happily  restored  order  in  France,  we 
are  looking  forward  to  better  times,  and 
hope  before  the  next  festival  of  St.  Mar- 
tha, to  be  permitted  to  reclaim  our  *  ta- 
rasque,' and  renew  the  procession." 

"  Ah,  ladies,"  she  adaed,  "  you  have  no 
idea  how  gay  and  how  happy  we  all  used 
to  be  at  that  time!  The  rich  and  the 
poor,  the  old  and  the  young,  the  men  and 
the  women,  all  the  same !  all  laughed,  all 
danced,  all  sung ;  there  was  not  a  sad  face 
in  the  town.  The  ladies  were  all  so  emu- 
lous of  leading  the  '  tarasque !'  They  were 
all  dressed  alike ;  one  was  appointed  to 
regulate  the  dress,  and  whatever  she  or- 
dered the  rest  were  obliged  to  follow. 
Sometimes  the  dresses  were  trimmed  with 
gold  or  silver,  sometimes  with  lace,  so 
'ch,  so  grand!  God  knows  whether  we 
Yall  ever  see  such  times  again.  Ah  !  it 
ras  only  because  we  were  so  happy  that 
fie  people  of  Aries  envied  us,  and  had 
nich  a  spite  against  us ;  but  they  have  no 
reason  to  envy  us  now,  we  have  had  sorrow 
enough  :  ninety-three  persons  were  guillo- 
tined here,  and  you  may  think  what  trou- 
ble that  has  spread  among  a  number  of 
families.  I  myself,  ladies,  have  had  my 
share  of  sorrow.  My  husband  was  not 
indeed  guillotined,  but  he  was  obliged  to 
fly  the  town  to  avoid  it :  he  never  quitted 
France,  but  went  about  from  place  to 
place  where  he  was  not  known,  working 
and  picking  up  a  livelihood  as  well  as  he 
eould;  and  it  is  only  since  Buonaparte 
has  been  first  consul  that  he  has  ventured 
to  return.  Besides,  every  thing  that  I  had 
of  any  value,  my  linen,  my  mattresses, 
my  silver  spoons  and  forks,  were  all  taken 
away  by  the  requisition,  and  I  can  only 
hope  to  have  things  comfortably  about  me 
again  by  degrees,  if  we  are  so  lucky  as  to 
get  tolerable  custom  to  our  inn."  And 
then  she  entered  upon  a  long  string  of 
Apologies  for  the  state  of  her  house.  "  She 


was  afraid,"  she  said,  "  that  we  should 
find  things  very  uncomfortable,  but  it 
was  not  in  her  power  to  receive  ladies 
and  gentlemen  as  she  had  been  used  to 
do  before  her  misfortunes.  A  few  years 
hence,  if  Buonaparte  should  but  live,  she 
hoped,  if  we  should  happen  to  pass  that 
way  again,  we  should  see  things  in  a  very 
different  state."  * 


THE  SEASON. 

"  Now,"  we  perceive  in  the  "  Minor  of 
the  Months,"  that,  "now,  on  warm  even- 
ings after  business  hours,  citizens  of  all 
ages  grow  romantic ;  the  single,  wearing 
away  their  souls  in  sighing  to  the 
breezes  of  Brixton-hill,  and  their  soles  in 
getting  there;  and  the  married,  sipping 
syllabub  in  the  arbours  of  White  Conduit- 
house,  or  cooling  themselves  with  hot 
rolls  and  butter  at  the  New  River  Head. 

"  Now,  too,  moved  by  the  same  spirit 
of  romance,  young  patricians,  who  have 
not  yet  been  persuaded  to  banish  them- 
selves to  the  beauty  of  their  paternal 
groves,  fling  themselves  into  funnies,  and 
fatigue  their  ennui  to  death,  by  rowing  up 
the  river  to  Mrs.  Grange's  garden,  to  eat 
a  handful  of  strawberries  in  a  cup-full  oi 
cream. 

"  Now,  adventurous  cockneys  swim 
from  the  Sestos  of  the  Strand  stairs  to 
the  Abydos  of  the  coal-barge  on  the  op- 
posite shore,  and  believe  that  they  have 
been  rivalling  Lord  Byron  and  Leander — 
not  without  wondering,  when  they  find 
themselves  in  safety,  why  the  lady  for 
whom  the  latter  performed  a  similar  feat 
is  called  the  Hero  of  the  story,  instead  of 
the  Heroine. 

"  Finally, — now  pains-and -pleasure- 
taking  citizens  hire  cozey  cottages  for  six 
weeks  certain  in  the  Curtain-road,  and 
ask  their  friends  to  come  and  see  them 
*  in  the  country."' 


The  Feast  of  Cherries. 

There  is  a  feast  celebrated  at  Hamburg, 
called  the  "  feast  of  cherries,"  in  which 
troops  of  children  parade  the  streets  with 
green  boughs,  ornamented  with  cherr.ra, 
to  corcrcemorate  JL  victory,  obtained  in 
the  following  manner: — In  1432,  the 
Hussites  threatened  the  city  of  Hamburg 
with  an  immediate  destruction,  when  one 


*•  MU»  Pli»n  »•  »  •  Travels  in  Franc* 


1041 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  29. 


1042 


of  the  citizens,  named  Wolf,  proposed 
that  all  the  children  in  the  city,  from 
seven  to  fourteen  years  of  age,  should  be 
clad  in  mourning,  and  sent  as  suppli- 
cants to  the  enemy.  Procopius  Nasus, 
chief  of  the  Hussites,  was  so  touched  with 
this  spectacle,  that  he  received  the  young 
supplicants,  regaled  them  with  cherries 
and  other  fruits,  and  promised  them  to 
spare  the  city. 

The  children  returned  crowned  with 
leaves,  holding  cherries,  and  crying 
"  victory  !" — and  hence,  the  "  feast  of 
cherries"  is  an  annual  commemoration 
of  humane  feelings.* 


To  THE  GNAT. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Native  of  Ponds  !  I  scarce  could  deem 

Thee  worthy  of  my  praise, 
Wert  thou  not  joyous  in  the  beam 

Of  summer's  closing  days. 


But  who  can  watch  thy  happy  bands 
Dance  o  er  the  golden  wave, 

And  be  not  drawn  to  fancy's  lands, — 
And  not  their  pleasures  crave  1 

Small  as  thou  art  to  vulgar  sight, 

In  beauty  thou  art  born  : — 
Tnou  waitest  on  my  ears  at  night, 

Sounding  thine  insect  horn. 

The  sun  returns — his  glory  spreads 
In  heaven's  pure  flood  of  light ; 

Thou  makest  thine  escape  from  beds, 
And  risest  with  a  bite. 

Where'er  thy  lancet  draws  a  vein, 

'Tis  always  sure  to  swell  ; 
A  very  molehill  raised  with  pain 

As  many  a  maid  can  tell. 

Yet,  for  thy  brief  epitome 

Of  love,  life,  tone  and  thrall ; 

I'd  rather  have  a  bump  from  thee, 
Than  Spurz-heim,  or  from  Gall. 

J.  R.  P. 


Fish. 

It  is  noted  by  Dr.  Forster,  that  to- 
wards the  end  of  July  the  fishery  of 
pilchards  begins  in  the  west  of  England. 
Through  August  it  continues  with  that  of 
mullets,  red  surmallets,  red  gurnards, 
and  several  other  fish  which  abound  on 
our  south-west  coasts.  In  Cornwall,  fish 
is  so  cheap  and  so  commonly  used  as  an 

•  Philiips's  Account  of  Fruits. 


article  of  food,  that  we  remember  so 
lately  as  August,  1804,  the  then  rector  ot 
Boconnoc  used  to  have  turbot  for  supper, 
which  he  considered  as  a  good  foundation 
for  a  large  bowl  of  posca,  a  sort  of  weak 
punch  drank  in  that  country.  Having 
witnessed  on  this  day  in  1822,  the  grand 
Alpine  view  of  the  lake  of  Geneva,  and 
the  Swiss  and  Savoyard  mountains  behind 
it,  from  Mount  Jura,  we  are  reminded  to 
present  the  reader  with  the  following  ex- 
cellent lines  which  we  have  met  with  in 
"  Fables,  by  Thomas  Brown,  the  Younger," 
London,  1823. 

VlEW  OF  THE  ALPS  AND  THE  LAKE  OP 

GENEVA  FROM  THE  JURA. 

'Twas  late,  the  sun  had  almost  shone 
His  last  and  best,  when  I  ran  on, 
Anxious  to  reach  that  splendid  view 
Before  the  daybeams  quite  withdrew; 

And  feeling  as  all  feel,  on  first 
Approaching  scenes,  where  they  are  told 

Such  glories  on  their  eyes  shall  burst 
As  youthful  bards  in  dreams  behold. 

'Twas  distant  yet,  and  as  I  ran, 
Full  often  was  my  wistful  gaze 

Turned  to  the  sun,  who  now  began 
To  call  in  all  his  outpost  rays, 

And  form  a  denser  march  of  light, 

Such  as  beseems  a  hero's  flight. 

Oh  !  how  I  wished  for  Joshua's  power 
To  slay  the  brightness  of  that  hour ! 

But  no,  the  sun  still  less  became, 
Diminished  to  a  speck,  as  splendid 

And  small  as  were  those  tongues  of 

flame 
That  on  the  apostles'  heads  descended. 

'Twas  at  this  instant,  while  there  glowed 

This  last  intensest  gleam  of  light, 
Suddenly  through  the  opening  road 

The  valley  burst  upon  my  sight  j 
That  glorious  valley  with  its  lake, 

And  Alps  on  Alps  in  clusters  swelling, 
Mighty  and  pure,  and  fit  to  make 

The  ramparts  of  a  godhead's  dwelling. 

I  stood  entranced  and  mute  as  they 

Of  Israel  think  the  assembled  world 
Will  stand  upon  the  awful  day, 

When  the  ark's  light,  aloft  unfurled 
Among  the  opening  clouds  shall  shine, 
Divinity's  own  radiant  sign  ! 

Mighty  Mont  Blanc,  thou  wert  to  me 
That  minute,  with  thy  brow  in  heaven, 

As  sure  a  sign  of  Deity 
As  e'er  to  mortal  gaze  was  given 

Nor  ever,  were  I  destined  yet 
To  live  my  life  twice  o'er  again, 

Can  I  the  deepfelt  awe  forget, 
The  ecstacy  that  thrilled  me  then. 


1043 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  30. 


1044 


'Twas  all  the  unconsciousness  of  power 

And  life,  beyond  this  mortal  hour  ; 

Those  mountings  of  the  soul  within 

At  thoughts  of  heaven,  as  birds  begin 

By  instinct  in  the  cage  to  rise, 

When  near  their  time  for  change  of  skies ; 

That  proud  assurance  of  our  claim 
To  rank  among  the  sons  of  light, 

Mingled  with  shame  !  oh,  bitter  shame! 
At  having  risked  that  splendid  right, 
For  aught  that  earth,  through  all  its  range 
Of  glories,  offers  in  exchange ! 

Twas  all  this,  at  the  instant  brought, 
Like  breaking  sunshine  o'er  my  thought  j 

Twas  all  this,  kindled  to  a  glow 
Of  sacred  zeal,  which,  could  it  shine 

Thus  purely  ever,  man  might  grow, 
Even  upon  earth,  a  thing  divine, 
And  be  once  more  the  creature  made 
To  walk  unstained  the  Elysian  shade. 

No,  never  shall  I  lose  the  trace 

Of  what  I've  felt  in  this  bright  place  : 

And  should  my  spirit's  hope  grow  weak, 
Should  1,  oh  God  !  e'er  doubt  thy  power, 

This  mighty  scene  again  I'll  seek, 
At  the  same  calm  and  glowing  hour ; 

And  here,  at  the  sublimest  shrine 
That  nature  ever  reared  to  thee, 

Rekindle  all  that  hope  divine, 
And  feel  my  immortality. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  80. 

so. 

THE  OLD  GATES  OF  LONDON. 
On  the  30th  of  July,  1760,  the  materials 
of  the  three  following  city  gates  were 
sold  before  the  committee  of  city  lands 
to  Mr.  Blagden,  a  carpenter  in  Coleman- 
street,  viz. — 

Aldgate,  for          £177  10*. 
Cripplegate,  91     0 

Ludgate,  148     0  * 

NEW  BISHOP  OF  DURHAM — 

BISHOP  AUCKLAND   CUSTOM. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book. 

July  30,  1826. 

Dear  Sir,— In  the  "  Times,"  of  the 
twenty-second  instant,  there  is  the  follow- 
ing paragraph,  copied  from  the  Newcastle 
paper.  "  The  bishop  of  Durham  arrived 
at  his  castle  at  Bishop  Auckland,  on 

•  Briti    -  Ci  ronolopst. 


Friday  last.  On  his  entering  into  the 
county  at  Croft-bridge,  which  separates 
it  from  the  county  of  York,  he  was  met 
by  the  officers  of  the  see,  the  mayor  and 
corporation  of  Stockton,  and  several  of 
the  principal  nobility  and  others  of  the 
county.  Here  a  sort  of  ceremony  was 
performed,  which  had  its  origin  in  the 
feudal  times,"  &c. 

The  origin  of  the  ceremony  above 
alluded  to  is  this.  About  the  commence- 
ment of  the  fourteenth  century,  sir  John 
Conyers  slew  with  his  falchion  in  the 
fields  of  Sockburne,  a  monstrous  creature, 
a  dragon,  a  worm,  or  flying  serpent,  that 
devoured  men,  women,  and  children.  The 
then  owner  of  Sockburne,  as  a  reward  for 
his  bravery,  gave  him  the  manor  with  its 
appurtenances  to  hold  for  ever,  on  con- 
dition that  he  met  the  lord  bishop  of 
Durham,  with  this  falchion,  on  his  first 
entrance  into  his  diocese,  after  his  election 
to  that  see.  And  in  confirmation  of  this 
tradition,  there  is  painted  in  a  window  of 
Sockburne  church,  the  falchion  just  now 
spoken  of;  and  it  is  also  cut  in  marble, 
upon  the  tomb  of  the  great  ancestor  of 
the  Conyers',  together  with  a  dog  and 
the  monstrous  worm  or  serpent,  lying  at 
his  feet.  When  the  bishop  first  comes 
into  his  diocese,  he  crossses  the  river 
Tees,  either  at  the  Ford  of  Nesham,  or 
Croft-bridge,  at  one  of  which  places  the 
lord  of  the  manor  of  Sockburne,  or  his 
representative,  rides  into  the  middle  of 
the  river,  if  the  bishop  comes  by  Nesham, 
with  the  ancient  falchion  drawn  in  his 
hand,  or  upon  the  middle  of  Croft-bridge; 
and  then  presents  it  to  the  bishop,  ad- 
dressing him  in  the  ancient  form  of  words. 
Upon  which  the  bishop  takes  the  falchion 
into  his  hands,  looks  at  it,  and  returns  it 
back  again,  wishing  the  lord  of  the  ma- 
nor his  health  and  the  enjoyment  of  his 
estate. 

There  are  likewise  some  lands  at 
Bishop's  Auckland,  called  Pollard's 
lands,  held  by  a  similar  service,  viz. 
showing  to  the  bishop  one  fawchon,  at 
his  first  coming  to  Auckland  after  his 
consecration.  The  form  of  words  made 
use  of  is,  I  believe,  as  follows  : — 

"  My  Lord,— On  behalf  of  myself  as 
well  as  of  the  several  other  tenants  of 
Pollard's  lands,  I  do  humbly  present 
your  lordship  with  this  fawchon,  at  your 
first  coming  here,  wherewith  as  the  tradi- 
dion  goeth,  Pollard  slew  of  old,  a  great 
and  venomous  serpent,  which  did  much 
harm  to  man  and  beast,  and  by  the  per- 


1045 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— JULY  31. 


1046 


formance  of  this  service  these  lands  are 
holden." 

The  drawing  of  ike  falchion  and  tomb 
in  Sockburne  church,  I  have  unfortunately 
lost,  otherwise  it  should  have  accompanied 
this  communication :  perhaps  some  of 
your  numerous  readers  will  be  able  to 
furnish  you  with  it. 

I  remain, 

Dear  Sir,  &c. 

J.  F. 


The  editor  joins  in  his  respected  cor- 
respondent's desire  to  see  a  representa- 
tion in  the  Every-Day  Book,  of  "  the 
falchion  and  tomb  in  Sockburne  chureh." 
A  correct  drawing  of  it  shall  be  accurately 
engraven,  if  any  gentleman  will  be  pleased 
to  communicate  one  :  such  a  favour  will 
be  respectfully  acknowledged. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature ...  63  •  57. 


31. 


MAYOR  OF  BARTLEMASS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
July  4,  1826. 

Sir,  —  The  following  is  a  brief  notice  of 
the  annual  mock  election  of  the  "  mayor 
of  Bartlemass,"  at  Newbury,  in  Berk- 
shire. 

The  day  on  which  it  takes  place,  is  the 
first  Monday  after  St.  Anne's  ;  therefore, 
this  year  if  not  discontinued,  and  I  believe 
it  is  not,  it  will  be  held  on  the  thirty-first 
day  of  July.  The  election  is  held  at  the 
Bull  and  Dog  public-house,  where  a  din- 
ner is  provided  ;  the  principal  dishes 
being  bacon  and  beans,  have  obtained  for 
it  the  name  of  the  "bacon  and  bean  feast." 
In  the  course  of  the  day  a  procession  takes 
place.  A  cabbage  is  stuck  on  a  pole  and 
carried  instead  of  a  mace,  accompanied 
by  similar  substitutes  for  the  other  em- 
blems of  civic  dignity,  and  there  is,  of 
course,  plenty  of  "  rough  music."  A 
"  justice  is  chosen  at  the  same  time, 
some  other  offices  are  filled  up,  and  the 
day  ends  by  all  concerned  getting  com- 
pletely "  how  came  ye  so." 

In  the  same  town,  a  mock  mayor  and 
nistice  are  likewise  chosen  for  Norcutt- 


lane,  but  whether  on  the  same  day  or  not 
I  cannot  say ;  how  long  these  customs 
have  existed,  or  whence  they  originated 
I  do  not  know;  they  were  before  I,  or 
the  oldest  man  in  the  town,  can  re- 
member. 

A  SHOEMAKER. 


THE  SEASON. 

By  the  "  Mirror  of  the  Months,"  the 
appearance  of  natural  scenery  at  this  sea- 
son is  brought  before  us.  "  The  corn- 
fields are  all  redundant  with  waving  gold 
—  gold  of  all  hues  —  from  the  light  yellow 
of  the  oats,  (those  which  still  remain 
uncut,)  to  the  deep  sunburnt  glow  of  the 
red  wheat.  But  the  wide  rich  sweeps  of 
these  fields  are  now  broken  in  upon,  here 
and  there,  by  patches  of  the  parched  and 
withered  looking  bean  crops  ;  by  occa- 
sional bits  of  newly  ploughed  land,  where 
the  rye  lately  stood  ;  by  the  now  darken- 
ing turnips  —  dark,  except  where  they  are 
being  fed  off  by  sheep  flocks;  and  lastly 
by  the  still  bright-green  meadows,  now 
studded  every  where  with  grazing  cattle, 
the  second  crops  of  grass  being  already 
gathered  in. 

"  The  woods,  as  well  as  the  single  tim- 
ber trees  that  occasionally  start  up  with 
such  fine  effect  from  out  of  the  hedge-rows, 
or  in  the  midst  of  meadows  and  corn- 
fields, we  shall  now  find  sprinkled  with 
what  at  first  looks  like  gleams  of  scattered 
sunshine  lying  among  the  leaves,  but 
what,  on  examination,  we  shall  find  to  be 
the  new  foliage  that  has  been  put  forth 
since  midsummer,  and  which  yet  retains 
all  the  brilliant  green  of  the  spring.  The 
effect  of  this  new  green,  lying  in  sweeps 
and  patches  upon  the  old,  though  little 
observed  in  general,  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  characteristic  appearances 
of  this  season.  In  many  cases,  when  the 
sight  of  it  is  caught  near  at  hand,  on  the 
sides  of  thick  plantations,  the  effect  of  it 
is  perfectly  deceptive,  and  you  wonder 
for  a  moment  how  it  is,  that  while  the 
sun  is  shining  so  brightly  every  where,  it 
should  shine  so  much  more  brightly  on 
those  particular  spots  " 


NATURALISTS* 

Mean  Tempera'cure  .     <53 


1047 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK  .-AUGUST. 


1048 


AUGUST. 

The  ears  are  fill'd,  the  fields  are  white, 

The  constant  harvest-moon  is  bright 

To  grasp  the  bounty  of  the  year, 

The  reapers  to  the  scene  repair, 

With  hook  in  hand,  and  bottles  slung, 

And  dowlas-scrips  beside  them  hung. 

The  sickles  stubble  all  the  ground, 

And  fitful  hasty  laughs  go  round; 

The  meals  are  done  as  scon  as  tasted, 

And  neither  time  nor  viands  wasted. 

All  over — then,  the  barrels  foam — 

The  "  Largess  "-cry,  the  "  Harvest-home ! "  * 

The  "Mirror  of  the  Months"  likens  of  youth  are  either  fulfilled  or  forgotten, 
August  to  "  that  brief,  but  perhaps  best  and  the  fears  and  forethoughts  connected 
period  of  human  life,  when  the  promises  with  decline  have  not  yet  grown  strong 


1049 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  1. 


1050 


enough  to  make  themselves  felt;  and  con- 
sequently when  we  have  nothing  to  do 
but  look  around  us,  and  be  happy."  For 
it  is  in  this  month  that  the  year  "  like  a 
man  at  forty,  has  turned  the  corner  of  its 
existence;  but,  like  him,  it  may  still  fancy 
itself  young,  because  it  does  not  begin  to 
feel  itself  getting  old.  And  perhaps  there 
is  no  period  like  this,  for  encouraging 
and  bringing  to  perfection  that  habit  of 
tranquil  enjoyment,  in  which  all  true  hap- 
piness must  mainly  consist :  with  pleasure 
it  has,  indeed,  little  to  do ;  but  with  hap- 
piness it  is  every  thing." 

The  author  of  the  volume  pursues  his 
estimate  by  observing,  that  "  August  is 
that  debateable  ground  of  the  year,  which 
is  situated  exactly  upon  the  confines  of 
summer  and  autumn;  and  it  is  difficult 
to  say  which  has  the  better  claim  to  it. 
It  is  dressed  in  half  the  flowers  of  the  one, 
and  half  the  fruits  of  the  other;  and  it  has 
a  sky  and  a  temperature  all  its  own,  and 
which  vie  in  beauty  with  those  of  the 
spring.     May  itself  can  offer  nothing  so 
sweet  to  the  senses,  so  enchanting  to  the 
imagination,  and  so  soothing  to  the  heart, 
as  that  genial  influence  which  arises  from 
the  sights,  the  sounds,  and  the  associa- 
tions, connected  with  an  August  evening 
in  the  country,  when  the  occupations  and 
pleasures  of  the  day  are  done,  and  when 
all,  even  the  busiest,  are  fain  to  give  way 
to  that  '  wise  passiveness,'  one   hour  of 
which  is  rife  with  more  real  enjoyment 
than  a  whole  season  of  revelry.     Those 
who  will  be  wise  (or  foolish)  enough  to 
make  comparisons  between  the  various 
kinds  of  pleasure  of  which  the  mind  of 
man  is  capable,  will  find  that  there  is 
none  (or  but  one)  equal  to  that  felt  by  a 
true  lover  of  nature,  when  he  looks  forth 
upon  her  open  face  silently,  at  a  season 
like  the  present,  and  drinks  in  that  still 
beauty   which    seems   to   emanate   from 
every  thing  he  sees,  till  his  whole  senses 
are  steeped  in  a  sweet  forgetfulness,  and 
he  becomes  unconscious  of  all  but  that 
instinct  of  good  which  is  ever   present 
with  us,  but  which  can  so  seldom  make 
itself  felt  amid  that  throng  of  thoughts 
which  are  ever  busying  and  besieging  us, 
in  our  intercourse  with  the  living  world. 
The  only  other  feeling  which  equals  this, 
in  its  intense  quietude,  and  its  satisfying 
fulness,  is  one  which  is  almost  identical 
with   it, — where    the   accepted   lover  is 
gazing   unobserved,  and  almost  unconsci- 
ously, on  the  face  of  his  mistress,  and 
tracing  their  sweet  evidences  of  that  mys- 


terious  union  which   already  exists  be- 
tween them. 

"  The  whole  face  of  nature  has  under- 
gone, since  last  month,  an  obvious  change; 
obvious  to  those  who  delight  to  observe 
all  her  changes  and  operations,  but  not 
sufficiently   striking   to   insist   on   being 
seen  generally  by  those  who  can  read  no 
characters  but  such  as  are  written  in  a 
text  hanfl.     If  the  general  colours  of  all 
the  various  departments  of  natural  scenery 
are  not  changed,  their  hues  are;  and  if 
there  is  not  yet  observable    the   infinite 
variety  of  autumn,  there  is  as  little  the 
extreme  monotony   of  summer.     In  one 
department,  however,  there  is  a  general 
change,  that  cannot  well  remain  unob- 
served.   The  rich  and  unvarying  green  of 
the  corn-fields  has  entirely   and   almost 
suddenly  changed  to  a  still   richer  and 
more  conspicuous  gold  colour;  more  con- 
spicuous  on  account  of  the  contrast  it 
now   offers   to   the   lines,   patches,    and 
masses  of  green  with  which  it  every  where 
lies  in  contact,  in  the  form  of  intersecting 
hedge-rows,   intervening   meadows,   and 
bounding  masses  of  forest.     These  latter 
are  changed  too ;  but  in  hue  alone,  not  in 
colour.     They  are  all  of  them  still  green; 
but  it  is  not  the  fresh  and  tender  green  of 
the  spring,  nor  the  full  and  satisfying, 
though  somewhat  dull,  green  of  the  sum- 
mer; but  many   greens,   that  blend   afl 
those  belonging  to  the  seasons  just  named, 
with  others  at  once  more  grave  and  more 
bright ;  and   the   charming   variety   and 
interchange  of  which  are  peculiar  to  this 
delightful  month,  and  are  more  beautiful 
in  their  general  effect  than  those  of  either 
of  the  preceding  periods :  just  as  a  truly 
beautiful  woman  is  perhaps  more  beautiful 
at  the  period  immediately  before  that  at 
which  her  charms  begin  to  wane,  than 
she  ever  was  before.     Here,  however,  the 
comparison  must  end  ;  for  with  the  year 
its  incipient  decay  is  the  signal  for  it  to 
put  on  more  and  more  beauties  daily,  till, 
when  it  reaches  the  period  at  which  it  is 
on  the  point  of  sinking  into  the  temporary 
death  of  winter,  it  is  more  beautiful  in 
general  appearance  than  ever." 

1. 

LAMMAS  DAY. 

Though  the  origin  of  this  denomination 
is  related  in  vol.  i.  col.  1063,  yet  it  seems 
proper  to  add  that  Lammas  or  Lambmas 
day  obtained  its  name  from  a  mass  or- 
dained to  St.  Peter,  supplicating  his  bene- 


1051 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  i. 


1052 


diction  on  lambs,  in  shearing  season,  to 
preserve  them  from  catching  cold.  St 
Peter  became  patron  of  lambs,  from 
Christ's  metaphorical  expression,  "  Feed 
my  lambs,"  having  been  construed  into 
a  literal  injunction?*  Raphael  makes  this 
misconstruction  the  subject  of  one  of  his 
great  cartoons,  by  representing  Christ  as 
speaking  to  Peter,  and  pointing  to  a  flock 
of  lambs. 

Lammas  Towers  in  Mid-Lothian. 

There  was  a  Lammas  festival,  which 
prevailed  in  the  Lothians  from  very  early 
times  among  the  young  persons  employed 
during  summer  in  tending  the  herds  at 
pasture.  The  usage  is  remarkable. 

It  appears  that  the  herdsmen  within  a 
certain  district,  towards  the  beginning  of 
summer,  associated  themselves  into 
bands,  sometimes  to  the  number  of  a 
hundred  or  more.  Each  of  these  com- 
munities agreed  to  build  a  tower  in  some 
conspicuous  place,  near  the  centre  of 
their  district,  which  was  to  serve  as  the 
place  of  their  rendezvous  on  Lammas 
day.  This  tower  was  usually  built  of 
sods;  for  the  most  part  square,  about 
four  feet  in  diameter  at  the  bottom,  and 
tapering  to  a  point  at  the  top,  which  was 
seldom  above  seven  or  eight  feet  from  the 
ground.  In  building  it,  a  hole  was  left 
in  the  centre  for  admitting  a  flag-staff,  on 
which  to  display  their  colours.  The 
tower  was  usually  begun  to  be  built 
about  a  month  before  Lammas,  and  was 
carried  up  slowly  by  successive  additions 
from  time  to  time,  being  seldom  entirely 
completed  till  a  few  days  before  Lam- 
mas ;  though  it  was  always  thought  that 
those  who  completed  their's  soonest,  and 
kept  it  standing  the  longest  time  before 
Lammas,  behaved  in  the  most  gallant 
manner,  and  acquired  most  honour  by 
their  conduct. 

From  the  moment  the  foundation  of 
the  tower  was  laid,  it  became  an  object 
of  care  and  attention  to  the  whole  com- 
munity ;  for  it  was  reckoned  a  disgrace 
to  suffer  it  to  be  defaced ;  so  that  they 
resisted,  with  all  their  power,  any  at- 
tempts that  should  be  made  to  demolish 
it,  either  by  force  or  fraud  ;  and,  as  the 
honour  that  was  acquired  by  the  demoli- 
tion of  a  tower,  if  affected  by  those  be- 
longing to  another,  was  in  proportion  to 
the  disgrace  of  suffering  it  to  be  demo- 

•  Mr.  Hrady'.i  Clavis  Odendara. 


lished,  each  party  endeavoured  to  cir- 
cumvent the  other  as  much  as  possible, 
and  laid  plans  to  steal  upon  the  tower 
unperceived,  in  the  night  time,  and  level 
it  with  the  ground.  Great  was  the 
honour  that  such  a  successful  exploit  con- 
veyed to  the  undertakers ;  and,  though 
the  tower  was  easily  rebuilt,  and  was 
soon  put  into  its  former  state,  yet  the 
news  was  quickly  spread  by  the  success- 
ful adventurers,  through  the  whole  dis- 
trict, which  filled  it  with  shouts  of  joy 
and  exultation,  while  their  unfortunate 
neighbours  were  covered  with  shame.  To 
ward  off  this  disgrace,  a  constant  nightly 
guard  was  kept  at  each  tower,  which  was 
made  stronger  and  stronger,  as  the  tower 
advanced;  so  that  frequent  nightly 
skirmishes  ensued  at  these  attacks,  but 
were  seldom  of  much  consequence,  aa 
the  assailants  seldom  came  in  force  to 
make  an  attack  in  this  way,  but  merely 
to  succeed  by  surprise ;  as  soon,  there- 
fore, as  they  saw  they  were  discovered, 
they  made  off  in  the  best  manner  they 
could. 

To  give  the  alarm  on  these,  and  other 
occasions,  every  person  was  armed  with 
a  "  tooting  horn ;"  that  is,  a  horn  per- 
forated in  the  small  end,  through  which 
wind  can  be  forcibly  blown  from  the. 
mouth,  so  as  to  occasion  a  loud  sound  ; 
and,  as  every  one  wished  to  acquire  as 
great  dexterity  as  possible  in  the  use  of 
the  "  tooting  horn,"  they  practised  upon  it 
during  the  summer,  while  keeping  theii 
beasts ;  and  towards  Lammas  they  were 
so  incessantly  employed  at  this  business, 
answering  to,  and  vying  with  each  other, 
that  the  whole  country  rang  continually 
with  the  sounds ;  and  it  must  no  doubt 
have  appeared  to  be  a  very  harsh  and 
unaccountable  noise  to  a  stranger  who 
was  then  passing  through  it. 

As  the  great  day  of  Lammas  ap- 
proached, each  community  chose  one 
from  among  themselves  for  their  captain, 
and  they  prepared  a  stand  of  colours  to 
be  ready  to  be  then  displayed.  For  this 
purpose,  they  usually  borrowed  a  fine 
table  napkin  of  the  largest  size,  from 
some  of  the  farmer's  wives  within  the 
district ;  and,  to  ornament  it,  they  bor- 
-owed  ribbons,  which  they  tacked  upon  the 
napkin  in  such  fashion  as  best  suited 
their  fancy.  Things  being  thus  prepared, 
they  marched  forth  early  in  the  morning 
on  Lammas  day,  dressed  in  their  best 
apparel,  each  armed  with  a  stout  cudgel, 
and,  repairing  to  their  tower,  there  dis- 


1053 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  1. 


1054 


played  their  colours  in  triumph ;  blowing 
horns,  and  making  merry  in  the  best 
manner  they  could.  About  nine  o'clock 
they  sat  down  upon  the  green ;  and  each 
taking  from  his  pocket,  bread  and  cheese, 
or  other  provisions,  made  a  hearty  break- 
fast, drinking  pure  water  from  a  well, 
which  they  always  took  care  should  be 
near  the  scene  of  banquet. 

In  the  mean  time,  scouts  were  sent  out 
towards  every  quarter,  to  bring  them 
notice  if  any  hostile  party  approached ; 
for  it  frequently  happened,  that  on  that 
day  the  herdsmen  of  one  district  went 
to  attack  those  of  another  district,  and  to 
bring  them  under  subjection  to  them  by 
main  force.  If  news  were  brought  that  a 
hostile  party  approached,  the  horns 
sounded  to  arms,  and  they  immediately 
arranged  themselves  in  the  best  order  they 
could  devise  ;  the  stoutest  and  boldest  in 
front,  and  those  of  inferior  prowess 
behind.  Seldom  did  they  wait  the  ap- 
proach of  the  enemy,  but  usually  went 
forth  to  meet  them  with  a  bold  counte- 
nance, the  captain  of  each  company  carry- 
ing the  colours,  and  leading  the  van. 
When  they  met,  they  mutually  desired 
each  other  to  lower  their  colours  in  sign 
of  subjection.  If  there  appeared  to  be 
a  great  disproportion  in  the  strength 
of  the  parties,  the  weakest  usually  sub- 
mitted to  this  ceremony  without  much 
difficulty,  thinking  their  honour  was 
saved  by  the  evident  disproportion  of  the 
match ;  but,  if  they  were  nearly  equal 
in  strength,  none  of  them  would  yield, 
and  it  ended  in  blows,  and  sometimes 
bloodshed.  It  is  related,  that,  in  a  battle 
of  this  kind,  four  were  actually  killed, 
and  many  disabled  from  work  for  weeks. 

If  no  opponent  appeared,  or  if  they 
themselves  had  no  intention  of  making 
an  attack,  at  about  mid-day  they  took 
down  their  colours,  and  marched  with 
horns  sounding,  towards  the  most  con- 
siderable village  in  their  district; 
where  the  lasses,  and  all  the  people,  came 
out  to  meet  them,  and  partake  of  their 
diversions.  Boundaries  were  immedi- 
ately appointed,  and  a  proclamation  made, 
that  all  who  intended  to  compete  in  the 
race  should  appear.  A  bonnet  ornamented 
with  ribbons  was  displayed  upon  a  pole, 
as  a  prize  to  the  victor ;  and  sometimes 
five  or  six  started  for  it,  and  ran  with  as 
great  eagerness  as  if  they  had  been  to 
gain  a  kingdom ;  the  prize  of  the  second 
race  was  a  pair  of  garters,  and  the  third 
a  knife.  They  then  amused  themselves  for 


some  time,  with  such  rural  sports  as 
suited  their  taste,  and  dispersed  quietly 
to  their  respective  homes  befors  sunset. 

When  two  parties  met,  and  one  of  them 
yielded  to  the  other,  they  marched  toge- 
ther for  some  time  in  two  separate  bodies> 
the  subjected  body  behind  the  other ;  and 
then  they  parted  good  friends,  each  per- 
forming their  races  at  their  own  appointed 
place  Next  day,  after  the  ceremony  was 
over,  the  ribbons  and  napkin  that  formed 
the  colours,  were  carefully  returned  to 
their  respective  owners,  the  tower  was 
no  longer  a  matter  of  consequence,  and 
the  country  returned  to  its  usual  state  of 
tranquility. 

The  above  is  a  faithful  account  of  this 
singular  ceremony  which  was  annually  re- 
peated in  all  the  country,  within  the  dis- 
tance of  six  miles  west  from  Edinburgh, 
about  thirty  years  before  Dr.  Anderson 
wrote,  which  was  in  the  year  1792.  How 
long  the  custom  prevailed,  or  what  had 
given  rise  to  it,  or  how  far  it  had  extended 
on  each  side,  he  was  uninformed.  He 
says,  "  the  name  of  Lammas-towers  will 
remain,  (some  of  them  having  been  built 
of  stone,)  after  the  celebration  of  the  fes- 
tival has  ceased.  This  paper  will  at  least 
preserve  the  memory  of  what  was  meant 
by  them.  I  never  could  discover  the 
smallest  traces  of  this  custom  in  Aber- 
deenshire,  though  I  have  there  found 
several  towers  of  stone,  very  like  the 
Lammas-towers  of  this  country ;  but 
these  seem  to  have  been  erected  without 
any  appropriated  use,  but  merely  to  look 
at.  1  have  known  some  of  those  erected 
in  my  time,  where  I  knew  for  certain 
that  no  other  object  was  intended,  than 
merely  to  amuse  the  persons  who  erected 
them."* 


THE  COBBLERS'  FESTIVAL  AT  PARIS 
ON  THE  FIRST  OF  AUGUST,  1641. 

A  rare  old  "broadside"  in  French, 
printed  at  the  time,  with  a  large  anil 
curious  wood-cut  at  the  head,  now  before 
the  editor,  describes  a  feast  of  the  cobblers 
of  Paris  in  a  burlesque  manner,  from 
whence  he  proposes  to  extract  some  ac- 
count of  their  proceedings  as  closely  as 
may  be  to  the  original. 

First,  however,  it  is  proper  to  observe 
that  the  wood  engraving,  on  the  next  cage, 
is  a  fac-simile  of  one  third,  and  by  far  the 
most  interesting  portion  of  the  original. 

*  Dr.  James  Anderson,  in  Tran*.  Soc.  Amia.  S<v»». 


1055  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  1.  1056 


jftettbal  of  tt)t  Cobblers;  of  fan's,  3ugu*t  1, 1641 


THE' EVER Y-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  1. 


U-53 


The  entire  occupation  of  the  preceding 
page  by  a  cut,  which  is  the  first  of 
t-he  kind  in  the  Every- Day  Book,  may 
startle  a  few  readers,  but  it  must  gratify 
every  person  who  regards  it  either  as  a 
faithful  transcript  of  the  most  interesting 
part  of  a  very  rare  engraving,  or  as  a 
representation  of  the  mode  of  feasting  in 
the  old  pot-houses  of  Paris. 

Nothing  of  consequence  is  lost  by  the 
omission  of  the  other  part  of  the  engrav- 
ing ;  for  it  is  merely  a  crowd  of  smaller 
figures,  seated  at  the  table,  eating  and 
drinking,  or  reeling,  or  lying  on  the 
floor  inebriated.  The  only  figure  worth 
notice,  is  a  man  employed  in  turning 
a  spit,  and  he  has  really  so  lack-a-daisical 
an  appearance,  that  it  seems  worth  while 
to  give  the  top  corner  of  the  print  in  fac- 
simile. 


We  p<  rceive  from  the  page-cut  that  at 
the  period  when  the  original  was  executed, 
the  French  landlords  "  chalked  up  the 
score''  as  ours  do,  and  that  cobblers  had 
music  at  their  dinners  as  well  as  their 
betters.  The  band  might  not  be  so 
complete,  but  it  was  as  good  as  they 
could  get,  and  the  king  and  his  nobles 
could  not  have  more  than  money  could 
procure.  The  two  musicians  are  of  some 
consideration,  as  well  suited  to  the  scene  ; 
nor  is  the  mendicant  near  them  to  be  dis- 
regarded ;  he  is  only  a  little  more  needy, 
and,  perhaps,  a  little  less  importunate  than 
certain  suitors  for  court  favours.  The 
singer  who  accompanies  himself  on  the 
guitar  at  the  table,  is  tricked  out  with  a 
standing  ruff  and  -uffies,  and  ear-rings, 

Voi,.  IT.— 86. 


and  seems  a  "  joculator "  of  the  first 
order ; — and  laying  aside  his  dress,  and 
the  jaunty  set  of  his  hat,  which  we  may 
almost  imagine  had  been  a  pattern  for  a 
recent  fashion,  his  face  of  "  infinite  hu- 
mour" would  distinguish  him  any  where 
However  rudely  the  characters  are  cut, 
they  are  well  discriminated.  The  serving 
man,  with  a  spur  on  one  foot  and  without 
a  shoe  on  the  other,  who  pours  wine 
into  a  glass,  is  evidently  a  person — 

"  contented  in  his  station 
who  minds  his  occupation." 

Vandyke  himself  could  scarcely  have 
afforded  more  grace  to  a  countess,  than 
the  artist  of  the  feast  has  bestowed  on  a 
cobbler's  wife. 


From  the  French  of  the  author  who 
drew  up  the  account  referring  to  the 
engraving,  we  learn  that  on  the  first 
day  of  August,  1641,  the  "Society  of 
the  Trade  of  Cobblers,"  met  in  solemn 
festival  (as,  he  observes,  was  their  custom) 
in  the  church  of  St.  Peters  of  Arsis,  where, 
after  having  bestowed  all  sorts  of  praises 
on  their  patron,  they  divided  their  con- 
secrated bread  between  them,  with  which 
not  one  third  of  them  was  satisfied ;  for 
while  going  out  of  the  church  they  mur- 
mured, while  the  others  chuckled. 

After  interchanging  the  reciprocal  ho- 
nours, they  were  accustomed  to  pay  to 
each  other,  (which  we  may  fairly  presume 
to  have  been  hard  blows,)  many  of  the 
most  famous  of  their  calling  departed  to 
a  pot-house,  and  had  a  merry-making. 
They  had  all  such  sorts  of  dishes  at  their 
dinner  as  their  purses  would  afford;  par 
ticularly  a  large  quantity  of  turnip-soup, 
on  account  of  the  number  of  persons 
present;  and  as  many  ox- feet  and  fricasees 
of  tripe,  as  all  the  tripe-shops  of  the  city 
and  its  suburbs  could  furnish,  with  va- 
rious other  dishes  which  the  reporter  say* 
he  does  not  choose  to  name,  lest  h* 
should  give  offence  to  the  fraternity.  He 
mentions  cow-beef,  however,  as  one  of 
the  delicacies,  and  hints  at  their  excesses 
having  disordered  their  stomachs  and 
manners.  He  speaks  of  some  of  them 
having,  been  the  masters,  and  of  others  at 
more  than  the  masters,  for  they  denomi- 
nated themselves  Messieurs  le  Jurez,  of 
their  honourable  calling.  He  further 
says,  that  to  know  the  whole  history  of 
their  assembly,  you  must  go  to  Gentily, 
at  the  sign  of  St  Peter,  where,  when  at 


1059 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  1. 


1060 


leisure,  they  all  play  together  at  bowls. 
He  adds,  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  de- 
scribe them  all,  because  it  is  not  the 
custom  of  this  highly  indispensable  fra- 
ternity to  do  kindness,  and  they  are 
always  indignant  at  strong  reproaches. 
Finally,  he  says,  "  I  pray  God  to  turn 
them  from  their  wickedness."  He  subjoins 
a  song  which  he  declares  if  you  read  and 
sing,  will  show  he  has  told  the  truth,  and 
that  you  will  be  delighted  with  it. 
He  alleges,  that  he  drew  it  up  to  make  you 
better  acquainted  with  the  scene  repre- 
sented in  the  wood-cut,  in  order  that  you 
might  be  amused  and  laugh.  Whether 
it  had  that  tendency  cannot  be  deter- 
mined, for  unluckily  the  song,  which  no 
doubt  was  the  best  part,  has  perished 
from  the  copy  of  the  singular  paper  now 
described. 

LAMMAS  DAY 
Exeter  Lammas  Fair. 

The  charter  for  this  fair  is  perpetuated 
by  a  glove  of  immense  size,  stuffed  and 
carried  through  the  city  on  a  very  long 
pole,  decorated  with  ribbons,  flowers,  &c. 
and  attended  with  music,  parish  beadles, 
and  the  mobility.  It  is  afterwards  placed 
on  the  top  of  the  Guildhall,  and  then  the 
fair  commences  ;  on  the  taking  down  of 
the  glove,  the  fair  terminates. 

P. 


RIPPON  LAMMAS  FEAST. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book. 

Sir,— If  the  following  sketch  of  St. 
Wilfrid's  life,  as  connected  with  his  feast 
at  Rippon,  be  thought  sufficiently  interest- 
ing for  insertion,  you  will  oblige  an  old 
contributor. 

The  town  of  Rippon  owes  its  rise  to  the 
piety  of  early  times,  for  we  find  that 
Eata,  abbot  of  Melross  and  Lindisfarne, 
in  the  year  661  founded  a  monastery 
there,  for  which  purpose  he  had  lands 
given  him  by  Alchfrid,  at  that  time  king 
of  Deira,  and  afterwards  of  the  Northum- 
brians; but  before  the  building  was 
completed,  the  Scottish  monks  retired 
from  the  monastery,  and  St.  Wilfrid  was 
appointed  abbot  in  663,  and  soon  after- 
wards raised  to  the  see  of  York.  This 
prelate  was  then  in  high  favour  with  Oswy 
and  Egfrid,  kings  of  Northumberland, 
and  the  principal  nobility,  by  whose 
liberality  he  rose  to  such  a  degree  of 


opulence  as  to  vie  with  princes,  ana  en- 
able him  to  build  several  rich  monasteries ; 
but  his  great  pomp  and  immense  wealth 
having  drawn  upon  him  the  jealousy  of 
the  king  and  the  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, he  was  exiled.  After  an  absence 
of  ten  years  he  was  allowed  to  return  to 
his  see,  and  died  in  the  monastery  of 
Oundlein  711,  aged  seventy-six,  and  was 
interred  there.  In  940,  his  remains  were 
removed  to  Canterbury,  by  Odo,  arch- 
bishop of  that  see.  Amongst  all  the 
miracles  recorded  of  Wilfrid  by  the  author 
of  his  life,*  one,  if  true,  was  very  extra- 
ordinary, and  would  go  far  to  convert  the 
most  obdurate  pagan.  It  is  said,  that  at 
this  time,  God  so  blessed  the  holy  man's 
endeavours  towards  the  propagation  of 
the  faith,  that,  on  a  solemn  day  for  bap- 
tizing some  thousands  of  the  people  of 
Sussex,  the  ceremony  was  no  sooner 
ended  but  the  heavens  distilled  such 
plentiful  showers  of  rain,  that  the  country 
was  relieved  by  it  from  the  most  prodi- 
gious famine  ever  heard  of.  So  great  was 
the  drought,  and  provision  so  scarce,  that, 
in  the  extremity  of  hunger,  fifty  at  a  time 
joined  hand  in  hand  and  flung  themselves 
into  the  sea,  in  order  to  avoid  the  death 
of  famine  by  land.  But  by  Wilfrid's 
means  their  bodies  and  souls  were 
preserved. 

The  town  of  Rippon  continues  to  this 
day  to  honour  the  memory  of  its  bene- 
factor by  an  annual  feast.  On  the 
Saturday  following  Lammas-day,  the  effigy 
of  St.  Wilfrid  is  brought  into  the  town 
with  great  ceremony,  preceded  by  music, 
when  the  people  go  out  to  meet  it  in 
commemoration  of  the  return  of  their 
favourite  saint  and  patron  from  exile. 
The  following  day  called  St.  Wilfrid's 
Sunday  is  dedicated  to  him.  On  the 
Monday  and  Tuesday  there  are  horse- 
races for  small  sums  only  ;  though  for- 
merly there  were  plates  of  twenty,  thirty, 
forty,  and  fifty  pound s.f 

The  following  is  a  literal  copy  of  part 
of  an  advertisement  from  the  "  Newcastle 
Courant"  August  28,  1725. 


TO  BE  RUN  FOR.  The  usual  four  miles* 
course  on  Rippon  Common,  in  the 
county  of  York,  according  to  articles-  On. 
Monday  the  thirteenth  of  September  a  purse 
of  twenty  guineas  by  any  horse,  mare,  or 
gelding  that  was  no  more  than  five  years  old 
the  last  grass,  to  be  certified  by  the  breeder  , 

*  V.  Wilfridi  inter  xx  Scriptures, 
t  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


1061 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  l. 


1062 


each  horse  to  pay  two  guineas  entrance, 
run  three  heats,  the  usual  four  miles'  course 
for  a  heat,  and  carry  nine  stone,  besides 
saddle  and  bridle.  On  Tuesday  the  fourteenth, 
THE  LADY'S  PLATE  of  fifteen  pounds'  value  by 
any  horse,  &c.  Women  to  be  the  riders : 
each  to  pay  one  guinea  entrance,  three  heats, 
and  twice  about  the  common  for  a  heat." 

During  the  feast  of  St.  Wilfrid,  which 
continues  nearly  all  the  week,  the  inha- 
bitants of  Rippon  enjoy  the  privilege  of 
rambling  through  the  delightful  grounds  of 
"  Studley  Royal,"  the  seat  of  Mrs.  Lau- 
rence, a  lady  remarkable  for  her  amiable 
character  and  bounty  to  the  neighbouring 
poor.  On  St.  Wilfrid's  day  the  gates  of 
this  fairy  region  are  thrown  open,  and 
all  persons  are  allowed  to  wander  where 
they  please. 

No  description  can  do  justice  to  the 
exuberant  distribution  of  nature  and  art 
which  surrounds  one  on  every  side  on 
entering  these  beautiful  and  enchanting 
grounds ;  the  mind  can  never  cease  to 
wonder,  nor  the  eye  tire  in  beholding 
them. 

The  grounds  consist  of  about  three 
hundred  acres,  and  are  laid  out  with  a 
taste  unexcelled  in  this  country.  There 
is  every  variety  of  hill  and  dale,  and  a 
judicious  introduction  of  ornamental 
buildings  with  a  number  of  fine  statues; 
among  them  are  Hercules  and  Antaeus, 
Roman  wrestlers,  and  a  remarkably  fine 
dying  gladiator.  The  beauties  of  this 
terrestrial  paradise  would  fill  a  volume, 
but  the  chief  attraction  is  the  grand  mo- 
nastic ruin  of  Fountain's  abbey.  This 
magnificent  remain  of  olden  time  is  pre- 
served with  the  utmost  care  by  the  express 
command  of  its  owner,  and  is  certainly 
the  most  perfect  in  the  kingdom.  It  is 
seated  in  a  romantic  dale  surrounded  by 
majestic  oaks  and  firs.  The  great  civility 
of  the  persons  appointed  to  show  the 
place,  is  not  the  least  agreeable  feeling  on 
a  visit  to  Studley  Royal. 

I  am,  &c. 

J.  J.  A.  F. 


DISSENTERS'  FESTIVAL. 

The  first  of  August,  as  the  anniversary 
of  the  death  of  queen  Anne,  and  the  ac- 
cession of  George  I.,  seems  to  have  been 
kept  with  rejoicing  by  the  dissenters.  In  the 
year  1733,  they  held  a  great  meeting  in 
London,  and  several  other  parts  of  the 
kingdom  to  celebrate  the  day,  it  being 


that  whereon  the  "  schism  bill"  was  to 
have  taken  place  if  the  death  of  the  queen 
had  not  prevented  it.  If  this  bill  had 
passed  into  a  law,  dissenters  would  have 
been  debarred  the  liberty  of  educating 
their  own  children.* 

DOGGET'S  COAT  AND  BADGE. 

Also  in  honour  of  this  day  there  is  a 
rowing  match  on  the  river  Thames,  in- 
stituted by  Thomas  Dogget  an  old  actor  of 
celebrity,  who  was  so  attached  to  theBruns- 
wick  family,  that  sir  Richard  Steele  called 
him  "  a  whig  up  to  the  head  and  ears." 

In  the  year  after  George  I.  came  to  the 
throne,  Dogget  gave  a  waterman's  coat 
and  silver  badge  to  be  rowed  for  by  six 
watermen  on  the  first  day  of  August, 
being  the  anniversary  of  that  king's  ac- 
cession to  the  throne.  This  he  continued 
till  his  death,  when  it  was  found  that  he 
had  bequeathed  a  certain  sum  of  money, 
the  interest  of  which  was  to  be  appro- 
priated annually,  for  ever,  to  the  purchase 
of  a  like  coat  and  badge,  to  be  rowed  for 
in  honour  of  the  day  by  six  young  water- 
men whose  apprenticeships  had  expired 
the  year  before.  This  ceremony  is  every 
year  performed  on  the  first  of  August,  the 
claimants  setting  out,  at  a  signal  given,  a< 
that  time  of  the  tide  when  the  current  is 
strongest  against  them,  and  rowing  from 
the  Old  Swan,  near  London-bridge,  to  the 
White  Swan  at  Chelsea.f 

Broughton,  who  was  a  waterman, 
before  he  was  a  prize-fighter,  won  the 
first  coat  and  badge. 


This  annual  rowing-match  is  the  subject 
of  a  ballad-opera,  by  Charles  Dibdin,  first 
performed  at  the  Haymarket,  in  1774, 
called  "  The  Waterman,  or  the  First  of 
August."  In  this  piece  Tom  Tugg,  a 
candidate  for  Dogget's  coat  and  baxlge, 
sings  the  following,  which  was  long  a 
popular 

SONG. 

And  did  you  not  hear  of  a  jolly  young  water- 
man, 

Who  at  Blackfriars-bridge  used  for  to  ply; 
And  he  feather'd  his  oars  with  such  skill  and 

dexterity, 
Winning  each  heart  and  delighting  each 

eye: 

He  looked  so  neat,  and  rowed  so  steadily, 
The  maidens  all  flocked  in  his  boat  so  readily, 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

f  Jones's  Uiograplna  Dramatic*. 


1063 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  1. 


1064 


And  he  eyed  the  young  rogues  with  so  charm- 
ing an  air, 
That  this  waterman  ne'er  was  in  want  of  a 

fare. 
What  sights  of  fine  folks  he  oft  row'd  in  his 

wherry ! 
'Twas  clean'd  out  so  nice,  and  so  painted 

withal ; 
He  was  always  first  oars  when  the  fine  city 

ladies, 

In  a  party  to  Ranelagh  went,  or  Vauxhall  : 
And  oftentimes  would  they  be  giggling  and 

leering, 
But  'twas   all  one  to  Tom,  their  gibing  and 

jeering, 

For  loving,  or  liking,  he  little  did  care, 
For  this  waterman  ne'er  was  in  want   of  a 

fare. 

And  yet,  but  to  see  how  strangely  things  hap- 
pen, 
As  he  row'd  along,  thinking  of  nothing  at 

all, 
He  was  plied   by   a   damsel    so  lovely  and 

charming, 
That  she  smiled,  and  so  straightway  in  love 

he  did  fall ; 
And,  would  this  young  damsel  but  banish  his 

sorrow, 

He'd  wed  her  to  night  before  to-morrow  : 
And   how   should  this  waterman    ever  know 

care, 
When  he's  married  and  never  in  want  of  a 

fare? 

Tom  Tug  wins  Dogget's  coat  and 
badge  under  the  eyes  of  his  mistress,  who 
sits  with  her  friends  to  see  the  rowing- 
match  from  an  inn  window  overlooking 
the  river ;  and,  with  the  prize,  he  wins 
her  heart. 


DOGGET. 

Colley  Cibber  calls  Dogget "  a  prudent, 
honest  man,"  and  relates  anecdotes  highly 
to  our  founder's  honour.  One  of  them  is 
very  characteristic  of  Dogget's  good  sense 
and  firmness. 

The  lord  chamberlain  was  accustomed 
to  exercise  great  power  over  actors.  In 
king  William's  reign  he  issued  an  order 
that  no  actor  of  either  company  should 
presume  to  go  from  one  to  the  other 
without  a  discharge,  and  the  lord  cham- 
berlain's permission ;  and  messengers 
actually  took  performers  who  disobeyed 
the  edict  into  custody.  Dogget  was  under 
articles  to  play  at  Drury-lane,  but  con- 
ceiving himself  treated  unfairly,  quitted 
the  stage,  would  act  no  more,  and  pre- 
ferred to  forego  his  demands  rather  than 
hazard  the  tediousne>js  and  danger  of  the 
law  to  recover  them.  The  manager,  who 


valued  him  highly,  resorted  to  the 
authority  of  the  lord  chamberlain.  "  Ac- 
cordingly upon  his  complaint,  a  messen- 
ger was  immediately  despatched  to  Nor- 
wich, where  Dogget  then  was,  to  bring 
him  up  in  custody.  But  doughty  Dog- 
get,  who  had  money  in  his  pocket,  and 
the  cause  of  liberty  at  his  heart,  was  not 
in  the  least  intimidated  by  this  formidable 
summons.  He  was  observed  to  obey  it 
with  a  particular  cheerfulness,  entertain- 
ing his  fellow-traveller,  the  messenger,  all 
the  way  in  the  coach  (for  he  had  protested 
against  riding)  with  as  much  humour  as 
a  man  of  his  business  might  be  capable  of 
tasting.  And,  as  he  found  his  charges 
were  to  be  defrayed,  he,  at  every  inn, 
called  for  the  best  dainties  the  country 
could  afford,  or  a  pretended  weak  appe- 
tite could  digest.  At  this  rate  they  jollily 
rolled  on,  more  with  the  air  of  a  jaunt 
than  a  journey,  or  a  party  of  pleasure 
than  of  a  poor  devil  in  durance.  Upon 
his  arrival  in  town,  he  immediately 
applied  to  the  lord  chief  justice  Holt  foi 
his  habeas  corpus.  As  his  case  was  some- 
thing particular,  that  eminent  and  learned 
minister  of  the  law  took  a  particular 
notice  of  it :  for  Dogget  was  not  only 
discharged,  but  the  process  of  his  confine- 
ment (according  to  common  fame)  had  a 
censure  passed  upon  it  in  court." 

"  We  see,"  says  Cibber,  "  how  natu- 
rally power,  only  founded  on  custom,  is 
apt,  where  the  law  is  silent,  to  run  into 
excesses ;  and  while  it  laudably  pretends 
to  govern  others,  how  hard  it  is  to  govern 
itself."* 


Scarcely  any  thing  is  known  of  this 
celebrated  performer,  but  through  Gibber, 
with  whom  he  was  a  joint  patentee  in 
Drury-lane  theatre.  They  sometimes 
warmly  differed,  but  Cibber  respected  his 
integrity  and  admired  his  talents.  The 
accounts  of  Dogget  in  "  Gibber's  Apo- 
logy," are  exceedingly  amusing,  and  the 
book  is  now  easily  accessible,  for  it  forms 
the  first  volume  of  "  Autobiography,  a 
collection  of  the  most  instructive  and 
amusing  lives  written  by  the  parties 
themselves;" — a  work  printed  in  an  ele 
gant  form,  and  published  at  a  reasonable 
price,  and  so  arranged  that  every  life  may 
be  purchased  separately. 

Cibber  says  of  Dogget,  "  He  was  a 
golden  actor. — He  was  the  most  an  origi- 
nal, and  the  strictest  observer  of  nature, 

*  Autobiography,  1S2£,  18mo.  vol.  i.  p.  202. 


IOCS 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  2. 


1060 


of  all  his  contemporaries.  He  borrowed 
from  none  :>f  them ;  his  manner  was  his 
own  ;  he  was  a  pattern  to  others,  whose 
great  merit  was,  that  they  had  sometimes 
tolerably  imitated  him.  In  dressing  a 
character  to  the  greatest  exactness  he  was 
remarkably  skilful ;  the  least  article  of 
whatever  habit  he  wore,  seemed  in  some 
degree  to  speak  and  mark  the  different 
humour  he  presented ;  a  necessary  care 
in  a  comedian,  in  which  many  have  been 
too  remiss  or  ignorant.  He  could  be  ex- 
tremely ridiculous  without  stepping  into 
the  least  impropriety  to  make  him  so. 
His  greatest  success  was  in  characters  of 
lower  life,  which  he  improved  from  the 
delight  he  took  in  his  observations  of  that 
kind  in  the  real  world.  In  songs  and 
particular  dances,  too,  of  humour,  he  had 
no  competitor.  Congreve  was  a  great 
admirer  of  him,  and  found  his  account  in 
the  characters  he  expressly  wrote  for  him. 
In  those  of  Fond  lew  ife,  in  his  '  Old  Bat- 
chelor,'  and  Ben,  in  *  Love  for  Love/ 
no  author  and  actor  could  be  more  obliged 
to  their  mutual  masterly  performances." 
Dogget  realized  a  fortune,  retired  from 
the  stage,  and  died,  endeared  to  watermen 
and  whigs,  at  Eltham,  in  Kent,  on  the 
twenty-second  of  September,  1721. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  64  •  77. 

august  2 

CHRONOLOGY. 

Thomas  Gainsborough.,  eminent  as  a 
painter,  and  for  love  of  his  art,  died  on  the 
second  of  August,  1788.  His  last  words 
were,  "  We  are  all  going  to  heaven,  and 
Vandyke  is  of  the  party."  He  was  buried, 
by  his  own  desire,  near  his  friend  Kirby, 
the  author  of  the  Treatise  on  "  Perspec- 
tive," in  the  grave-yard  of  Kew  chapel. 

Gainsborough  was  born  at  Sudbury,  in 
Suffolk,  in  1727,  where  his  father  was  a 
clothier,  and  nature  the  boy's  teacher. 
He  passed  his  mornings  in  the  woods 
alone ;  and  in  solitary  rambles  sketched 
old  trees,  brooks,  a  shepherd  and  his 
flock,  cattle,  or  whatever  his  fancy  seized 
on.  After  painting  several  landscapes, 
he  arrived  in  London  and  received  in- 
structions from  Gravelot  and  Hayman  : 
he  'ived  in  Hatton-Garden,  married  a  lady 
with  200/.  a  year  went  to  Bath,  and 
painted  portraits  for  five  guineas,  till  the 
demand  for  his  talent  enabled  him  gradu- 


ally to  raise  the  price  to  a  100/.  He 
settled  in  Pall-mall  in  1 774,  with  fame 
and  fortune. 

Gainsborough,  while  at  Bath,  was  cho- 
sen a  member  of  the  Royal  Academy  on 
its  institution,  but  neglected  its  meetings. 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  says,  "  whether  he 
most  excelled  in  portraits,  landscapes,  or 
fancy  pictures,  it  is  most  difficult  to  de- 
termine." His  aerial  perspective  is  un- 
commonly light  and  beautiful.  He  de- 
rived his  grace  and  elegance  from  nature, 
rather  than  manners  ;  and  hence  his  paint- 
ings are  inimitably  true  and  bewitching 
Devoted  to  his  art,  he  regretted  leaving 
it ;  just  before  his  death,  he  said,  "  he 
saw  his  deficiences,  and  had  endeavoured 
to  remedy  them  in  his  last  works." 

No  object  was  too  mean  for  Gainsbo- 
rough's pencil ;  his  habit  of  closely 
observing  things  in  their  several  particu- 
lars, enabled  him  to  perceive  their  rela- 
tions to  each  other,  and  combine  them. 
By  painting  at  night,  he  acquired  new 
perceptions:  he  had  eyes  and  saw,  and  he 
secured  every  advantage  he  discovered. 
He  etched  three  plates;  one  for  "  Kirby 's 
Perspective;"  another  an  oak  tree  with 
gypsies  ;  and  the  third,  a  man  ploughing 
on  a  rising  ground,  which  he  spoiled  in 
"  biting  in :"  the  print  is  rare. 

In  portraits  he  strove  for  natural  cha- 
racter, and  when  this  was  attained, 
seldom  proceeded  farther.  He  could  have 
imparted  intelligence  to  the  features  of 
the  dullest,  but  he  disdained  to  elevate 
what  nature  had  forbidden  to  rise; 
hence,  if  he  painted  a  butcher  in  his  Sun- 
day-coat, he  made  him,  as  he  looked,  a 
respectable  yeoman;  but  his  likenesses 
were  chiefly  of  persons  of  the  first  quality, 
and  he  maintained  their  dignity.  His 
portraits  are  seldom  highly  finished,  and 
are  not  sufficiently  estimated,  for  the  very 
reason  whereon  his  reputation  for  natural 
scenery  is  deservedly  high.  Sir  Joshua 
gave  Gainsborough  one  hundred  guineas 
for  a  picture  of  a  girl  and  pigs,  though 
its  artist  only  required  sixty.* 

Gainsborough  had  what  the  world  calls 
eccentricities.  They  resulted  rather  from 
his  indulgence  in  study,  than  contempt 
for  the  usages  of  society.  It  was  well 
for  Gainsborough  that  he  could  disregard 
the  courtesies  of  life  without  disturbance 
to  his  happiness,  from  those  with  whom 
manners  are  morals. 


Pilkington. 


1067 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— AUGUST  3. 


1068 


A  series  of  "Studies  of  Figures"  from 
Gainsborough's  "  Sketch  Books,"  are  exe- 
cuted in  lithography,  in  exact  imitation 
of  his  original  drawings  by  Mr.  Richard 
Lane.  Until  this  publication,  these  draw- 
ings were  unknown.  Mr.  Lane's  work 
is  to  Gainsborough,  what  the  prints  in 
Mr.  Otley's  "  Italian  School  of  Design," 
are  to  Raphael  and  Michael  Angelo. 
Each  print  is  so  perfect  a  fac-simile,  that 
it  would  be  mistaken  for  the  original 
drawing,  if  we  were  not  told  otherwise. 
This  is  the  way  to  preserve  the  reputation 
of  artists.  Their  sketches  are  often  bet- 
ter than  their  paintings ;  the  elabo- 
ration of  a  thought  tends  to  evaporate 
its  spirit. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  64  •  95. 


3. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

Michael  Adanson,  an  eminent  natura- 
list of  Scottish  extraction,  born  in  April, 
1727,  at  Aix,  in  Provence,  died  at  Paris 
on  the  third  of  August,  1806.  Needham, 
at  one  of  his  examinations,  presented 
Adanson,  then  a  child,  with  a  microscope, 
and  the  use  of  the  instrument  gave  the 
boy  a  bias  to  the  science  which  he  dis- 
tinguished as  a  philosopher.  His  parents 
destined  him  for  the  church,  and  obtained 
a  prebend's  stall  for  him,  but  he  abandon- 
ed his  seat,  made  a  voyage  to  Senegal  in 
1757,  and  published  the  result  of  his  la- 
bours in  a  natural  history  of  that  country. 
This  obtained  him  the  honour  of  corres- 
ponding member  in  the  Academy  of  Sci- 
ences. In  1 763,  his  "  Famille  des  Plantes" 
appeared;  it  was  followed  by  a  design  of 
an  immense  general  work,  which  failed 
from  Louis  XV.,  withholding  his  patro- 
nage. He  formed  the  project  of  a  settle- 
ment on  the  African  coast  for  raising 
colonial  produce  without  negro  slavery, 
which  the  French  East  India  company 
refused  to  encourage :  he  refused  to 
communicate  his  plan  to  the  English,  who, 
after  they  had  become  martyrs  of  Senegal, 
applied  for  it  to  Adanson,  through  lord 
North.  He  declined  invitations  from  the 
courts  of  Spain  and  Russia,  and  managed 
as  well  as  he  could  with  pensions  derived 
from  his  office  of  royal  censor,  his  place 
in  the  academy,  and  other  sources  inade- 
quate to  the  expense  of  forming  his  im- 


mense collections.  He  was  reduced  to 
poverty  by  the  revolution.  The  French 
invited  him  to  join  it  as  a  member;  he 
answered,  "  he  had  no  shoes."  This  pro- 
cured him  a  small  pension,  whereon  he 
subsisted  till  his  death  * 


So  early  as  thirteen  years  of  age,  Adan- 
son began  to  write  notes  on  the  natural 
histories  of  Aristotle  and  Pliny  ;  but  soon 
quitted  books  to  study  nature.  He  mad* 
a  collection  of  thirty-three  thousand  exist 
ences,  which  he  arranged  in  a  series  of 
his  own.  This  was  the  assiduous  labour 
of  eight  years.  Five  years  spent  at  Senegal, 
gave  him  the  opportunity  of  augmenting 
his  catalogue.  He  extended  his  researches 
to  subjects  of  commercial  utility,  explored 
the  most  fertile  and  best  situated  districts 
of  the  country,  formed  a  map  of  it,  fol- 
lowed the  course  of  the  Niger,  and 
brought  home  with  him  an  immense  col- 
lection of  observations,  philosophical,  po- 
litical, moral,  and  economical,  with  an 
addition  to  his  catalogue  of  about  thirty 
thousand  hitherto  unknown  species,  which, 
with  his  former  list,  and  subsequent  addi- 
tions brought  the  whole  number  to  more 
than  ninety  thousand. 


The  arrangement  of  Adanson's  "  Fa- 
milies des  Plantes,"  is  founded  upon  the 
principle,  "  that  if  there  is  in  nature  a 
system  which  we  can  detect,  it  can  only 
be  founded  on  the  totality  of  the  relations 
of  characters,  derived  from  all  the  parts 
and  qualities  of  plants."  His  labours  are 
too  manifold  to  be  specified,but  their  mag- 
nitude may  be  conceived  from  his  having 
laid  before  the  academy,  in  1773,  the  plan 
of  his  "  Universal  Natural  Encyclopedia," 
consisting  of  one  hundred  and  twority 
manuscript  volumes,  illustrated  by  se- 
venty-five thousand  figures,  in  folio.  In 
1776,  he  published  in  the  "  Supplement  of 
the  first  Encyclopaedia,"  by  Diderot  and 
D'Alembert,  the  articles  relative  to  natu- 
ral history  and  the  philosophy  of  the 
sciences,  comprised  under  the  letters  A. 
B.  C.  In  1779,  he  journied  over  the 
highest  mountains  in  Europe,  whence  he 
brought  more  than  twenty  thousand  spe- 
cimens of  different  minerals,  and  charts 
of  more  than  twelve  hundred  leagues  o 
country.  He  was  the  possessor  of  the 
most  copious  cabinet  in  the  world. 

*  General  Biography,  vol.i.  17. 


1069 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  4. 


107C 


Adanson's  first  misfortune  from  the 
revolution  was  the  devastation  of  his  ex- 
perimental garden,  in  which  he  had  cul- 
tivated one  hundred  and  thirty  kinds  of 
mulberry  to  perfection ;  and  thus  the 
abour  of  the  best  part  of  his  life  was 
overthrown  in  an  instant.  One  privation 
succeeded  another,  till  he  was  plunged  in 
extreme  indigence,  and  prevented  from 
pursuing  his  usual  studies  for  want  of  fire 
and  light.  "  I  have  found  him  in  winter 
(says  his  biographer)  at  nine  in  the  even- 
ing, with  his  body  bent,  his  head  stooped 
to  the  floor,  and  one  foot  placed  upon 
another,  before  the  glimmering  of  a  small 
brand,  writing  upon  this  new  kind  of 
desk,  regardless  of  the  inconvenience  of 
an  attitude  which  would  have  been  a  tor- 
ment to  any  one  not  excited  by  the  most 
inconceivable  habit  of  labour,  and  inspired 
with  the  ecstacy  of  meditation/' 

Adanson's  miserable  condition  was 
somewhat  alleviated  by  the  minister  Be- 
nezech ;  but  another  minister,  himself  a 
man  of  letters,  Francois  de  Neufchateau, 
restored  Adanson  to  the  public  notice, 
and  recommended  him  to  his  successors. 
The  philosopher,  devoted  to  his  studies, 
and  apparently  little  fitted  for  society, 
sought  neither  patron  nor  protector ;  and 
indeed  he  seems  never  to  have  been 
raised  above  that  poverty,  which  was 
often  the  lot  of  genius  and  learning  in 
the  stormy  period  of  the  revolution.  His 
obligations  to  men  in  power  were  much 
less  than  to  a  humbler  benefactor,  whose 
constant  and  generous  attachment  deserves 
honourable  commemoration.  This  was 
Anne-Margaret-Roux,  the  wife  of  Simon 
Henry,  who,  in  1783,  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
eight,  became  the  domestic  of  Adanson, 
and  from  that  time  to  his  death,  stood  in 
the  place  to  him  of  relations,  friends,  and 
fortune.  During  the  extremity  of  his 
distress,  when  he  was  in  want  of  every 
necessary,  she  waited  upon  him  during 
the  day,  and  passed  the  night,  without 
his  knowledge,  in  labours,  the  wages  of 
which  she  employed  in  the  purchase  of 
coffee  and  sugar,  without  which  he  could 
do  nothing.  At  the  same  time,  her  hus- 
band, in  the  service  of  another  master  in 
Picardy,  sent  every  week  bread,  meat, 
and  vegetables,  and  even  his  savings  in 
money,  to  supply  the  other  wants  of  the 
philosopher.  When  Adanson's  accumu- 
lated infirmities  rendered  the  cares  of  the 
wife  insufficient,  Simon  Henry  came  and 
assisted  her,  and  no  more  quitted  him. 

From  the  time  of  his  residence  at  Sene- 


gal, Adanson  was  exceedingly  sensible~"bf 
cold  and  humidity ;  and  from  inhabiting 
a  ground  floor,  without  cellars,  in  one  of 
the  lowest  streets  in  Paris,  he  was  con- 
tinually labouring  under  rheumatic  affec- 
tions. The  attitude  in  which  he  read 
and  wrote,  which  was  that  of  his  body 
bent  in  an  arm-chair,  and  his  legs  raised 
high  on  each  side  of  the  chimney-place, 
contributed  to  deposit  humours  upon  his 
loins,  and  the  articulations  of  his  thighs. 
When  he  had  again  got  a  little  garden, 
he  used  to  pass  whole  days  before  his 
plants,  sitting  upon  his  crossed  legs ;  and 
he  often  forgot,  in  the  ardour  of  study,  to 
go  to  bed.  This  mode  of  life  occasioned 
an  osseous  disease  in  the  right  thigh.  In 
January,  1806,  as  he  was  standing  by  his 
fire,  he  perceived  his  thigh  bend,  and 
would  have  fallen,  had  he  not  been  sup- 
ported by  his  devoted  domestic.  He  was 
put  to  bed,  the  limb  was  replaced,  and 
he  was  attended  with  the  utmost  assiduity 
by  the  faithful  pair,  who  even  tore  up 
their  own  linen  for  his  dressings.  Except 
his  surgeon,  they  were  the  only  human 
beings  he  saw  during  the  last  six  months 
of  his  life — a  proof  how  little  he  had  cul- 
tivated friendship  among  his  equals.  Na- 
poleon informed  of  his  wretched  situation, 
sent  him  three  thousand  livres,  which  his 
two  attendants  managed  with  the  greatest 
fidelity.  Whilst  confined  to  his  bed,  he 
continued  his  usual  occupation  of  reading 
and  writing,  and  was  seen  every  morning 
with  the  pen  in  his  hand,  writing  without 
spectacles,  in  very  small  characters,  at 
arm's  length.  The  powers  of  his  under- 
standing were  entire  when  he  expired.* 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature     .  .  .  1  €4  •  25. 


4. 

LONG  BOWLS. 

On  the  fourth  of  August,  1739,  a  farmer 
of  Croydon  undertook  for  a  considerable 
wager,  to  bowl  a  skittle-bowl  from  that 
town  to  London-bridge, about  eleven  miles, 
in  500  times,  and  performed  it  in  445  f 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature 63  *  72. 


*  Dr.  Aikin's  Athenaeum. 
t  Gentleman's  Magazine* 


1071 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  5,  6. 


1072 


5. 

ST.  JAMES'S  DAY,  Old  Style. 

It  is  on  this  day,  and  not  on  St.  James's 
day  new  style,  as"  rnistakingly  represented 
in  vol.  i.  col.  878,  that  oysters  come  in. 

OYSTER  DAY. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Greengrocers  rise  at  dawn  of  sun — 
August  the  fifth — come  haste  away  ! 

To  Billingsgate  the  thousands  run, — > 
'Tis  Oyster  Day  !— 'tis  Oyster  Day  ! 

Now  at  the  corner  of  the  street 
With  oysters  fine  the  tub  is  filled  ; 

The  cockney  stops  to  have  a  treat 
Prepared  by  one  in  opening  skilled. 

The  pepper-box,  the  cruet, — wait 

To  give  a  relish  to  the  taste ; 
The  mouth  is  watering  for  the  bait 

Within  the  pearly  cloisters  chased. 

'  Take  off  the  beard — as  quick  as  thought 
The  pointed  knife  divides  the  flesh  ; — 
What  plates  are  laden — loads  are  bought 
And  eaten  raw,  and  cold,  and  fresh ! 

Some  take  them  with  their  steak  for  sauce, 
Some  stew,  and  fry,  and  scollop  well  j 

While,  Leperello-like,  some  toss; 
And  some  in  gutting  them  excel.* 

Poor  creatures  of  the  ocean's  wave  ! 

Born,  fed,  and  fatted  for  our  prey  ; — 
E'en  boys,  your  shells  when  parted,  crave,     " 

Perspective  for  the  "  Grotto  day." 

With  watchful  eye  in  many  a  band 
The  urchin  wights  at  eve  appear  ; 

They   raise  their    "  lights"  with  voice    and 

hand — 
"  A  grotto  comes  but  once  a  year !" 

Then,  in  some  rustic  gardener's  bed 
The  shells  are  fixed  for  borders  neat ; 

Or,  crushed  within  a  dustman's  shed, 
Like  deadmen's  bones  'neath  living  feet. 
*.  *.  P. 

*  See  the  supper  scene  in  *'  Don  Giovanni," — also 
the  Irishman'sjoke  of  eating  the  oysters  and  taking 
his  master  the  shells.  Speaking  of  "  Oysters"— the 
song  sung  by  Grimaldi  senior, — "  An  oyster  crossed 
in  love,"— has  been  very  popular. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

Sir  Reginald  Bray,  the  architect  of 
king  Henry  the  seventh's  chapel,  died 
August  5,  1503.  His  family  came  into 
England  with  the  Conqueror,  and 
flourished  in  Northampton  and  Warwick- 
shire. He  was  second  son  to  sir  Richard 


Bray,  a  privy  counsellor  to  king  Henry 
VI.  In  the  first  year  of  Richard  III. 
Reginald  had  a  general  pardon,  for  having 
adhered,  it  is  presumed,  to  Henry  VI. 
He  favoured  the  advancement  of  the  earl 
of  Richmond  to  the  throne  as  Henry  VII., 
who  made  him  a  knight  banneret,  probably 
on  Bosworth  field.  At  this  king's  coro- 
nation he  was  created  a  knight  of  the 
bath,  and  afterwards  a  knight  of  the 
garter. 

Sir  Reginald  Bray  was  a  distinguished 
statesman  and  warrior.  He  served  at  the 
battle  of  Blackheath  in  1497,  on  the 
Cornish  insurrection  under  lord  Audley, 
part  of  whose  estates  he  acquired  by 
grant.  He  was  constable  of  Oakham 
castle  in  Rutlandshire,  joint  chief  justice 
of  the  forests  south  of  Trent,  high  steward 
of  the  university  of  Oxford,  chancellor  of 
the  duchy  of  Lancaster,  and  high  trea- 
surer. Distinguished  by  the  royal  favour, 
he  held  the  Isle  of  Wight  for  his  life 
at  an  annual  rent  of  three  hundred  marks, 
and  died  possessed  of  large  estates,  under 
a  suspicious  sovereign  who  extorted  large 
sums  from  his  subjects  when  there  was 
very  little  law  to  control  the  royal  will. 
His  administration  was  so  just  as  to  pro- 
cure him  the  title  of  "  the  father  of  his 
country."  To  his  skill  in  architecture  we 
are  indebted  for  the  most  eminent  eccle- 
siastical ornament  of  the  metropolis — the 
splendid  chapel  founded  by  Henry  in  his 
lifetime  at  Westminster;  and  he  conducted 
the  chapel  of  St.  George,  at  Windsor 
palace, toils  completion. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ,  .  .  .  63  •  47. 

6. 

TRANSFIGURATION. 

For  this  denomination  of  the  day  see 
vol.  i.  col.  1071. 

It  is  alleged  that  this  festival  was 
observed  at  Rome  in  the  fifth  century, 
though  not  universally  solemnized  until 
in  1457  pope  Calixtus  III.  ordained  its 
celebration  to  commemorate  the  raising 
of  the  siege  of  Belgrade  by  Mahomet  II.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  37. 


•  Butler.     Brady. 


10T3 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  7. 


1074 


august  7. 

NAME  OF  JESUS. 

A  festival  in  honour  of  the  name  of 
Jesus  appears  was  anciently  held  on  the 
second  Sunday  in  Epiphany,  from  whence 
ii  was  removed  at  the  reformation  to  this 


day,  and  the  name  of  St.  Donatus  ex- 
punged by  the  English  reformers  to 
make  room  for  it.  That  saint's  name 
had  previously  been  substituted  for  that 
of  St.  Afra,  to  whom  the  day  had  first 
been  dedicated  in  honour  of  her  martyr- 
dom 


Cajmt 


Ausburg  cathedral  was  rebuilt  by  St. 
Ulric  to  whom  and  St.  Afra  jointly  it  was 
dedicated  :  a  Latin  folio  with  engravings 
by  Kilian  describes  its  magnificence.*  In 


•  Basilica  S  S.  Udalrici  et  Afrae,  Imperials  Mo- 
nuteni  oid.  S.  Benedict!  Augusts  Vindel,  HUtorice 
dtacripta;  edit,  tecunda.  August.  Vindel.  1663. 


aialbmmfe. 


the  church  were  preserved  the  sculls  of 
several  saints,  blazing  with  jewellery, 
mitred  or  crowned,  reposing  on  em- 
broidered cushions,  and  elevated  on  altars 
or  reliquaries.  One  of  these  is  selected 
as  a  specimen  of  the  sumptuous  adorn- 
ment of  deceased  mortality  in  Roman 
catholic  churches. 


1075 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  8. 


ST.  AFRA. 

This  saint  is  alleged  to  have  suffered 
martyrdom  under  Dioclesian.  She  had 
Jed  an  abandoned  life  at  Augsburg,  but 
being  required  to  sacrifice  to  the  heathen 
deities  she  refused ;  wherefore,  with 
certain  of  her  female  companions,  she 
was  bound  to  a  stake  in  an  island  on  the 
river  Lech,  and  suffocated  by  smoke  from 
vine  branches.  She  is  honoured  as  chief 
patroness  of  Augsburg. 


ST.  ULEIC. 

This  saint  was  bishop  of  Augsburg, 
which  city  he  defended  against  the  bar- 
barians by  raising  walls  and  erecting 
fortresses  around  it,  and  died  in  973, 
surrounded  by  his  clergy,  while  lying  on 
ashes  strewed  on  the  floor  in  the  form  of 
a  cross.  * 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
can  Temperature  . ...  63  •  20. 


s. 


THE  SEASON. 

This  time  of  the  year  is  usually  re- 
markably fine.  The  rich  glow  of  summer 
is  seldom  in  perfection  till  August.  We 
now  enjoy  settled  hot  weather,  a  glowing 
sky,  with  varied  and  beautiful,  but  not 
many  clouds,  and  delightfully  fragrant 
and  cool  evenings.  The  golden  yellow 
of  the  ripe  corn,  the  idea  of  plenty  in- 
spired by  the  commencing  harvest  of 
wheat,  the  full  and  mature  appearance  of 
the  foliage,  in  short  the  tout  ensemble  of 
nature  at  this  time  is  more  pleasing  than 
perhaps  that  of  any  of  the  other  summer 
months. 

One  of  the  editors  of  the  "  Perennial 
Calendar,"  inserts  some  verses  which  he 
found  about  this  time  among  his  papers  ; 
he  says  they  are  "  evidently  some  parody/* 
and  certainly  they  are  very  agreeable. 


INFANTINE  RECOLLECTIONS 

In  Fancy  how  dear  are  the  scenes  of  my  childhood 

Which  old  recollections  recal  to  my  view ! 
My  own  little  garden,  its  plants,  and  the  wild  wood, 

The  ol<J  paper  Kite  that  my  Infancy  flew. 

The  cool  shady  Elm  Grove,  the  Pond  that  was  by  it, 
My  small  plaything  Mill  where  the  rain  torrent  fell ; 

My  Father's  Po'.  Garden,  the  Drying  Ground  nigh  it, 
The  old  wooden  Pump  by  the  Melon  ground  well. 

That  Portugal  Laurel  I  hail  as  a  treasure, 

For  often  in  Summer  when  tired  of  play, 
I  found  its  thick  shade  a  most  exquisite  pleasure, 

And  sat  in  its  boughs  my  long  lessons  to  say. 

There  I  first  thought  my  scholarship  somewhat  advancing, 

And  turning  my  Lilly  right  down  on  its  back, 
While  my  thirst  for  some  drink  the  Sun's  beams  were  enhancing 

I  shouted  out  learnedly — Da  mihi  lac. 

No  image  more  dear  than  the  thoughts  of  these  baubles, 
Ghigs,  Peg  Tops,  and  Whip  Tops,  and  infantine  games 

The  Grassplot  for  Ball,  and  the  Yewwalk  for  Marbles, 
And  the  arbours  for  whoop,  and  the  vine  trellis  frames. 

Those  three  renowned  Poplars,  by  Summer  winds  waved 

By  Tom,  Ben,  and  Ned,  that  were  planted  of  yore, 
Twixt  the  times  when  these  Wights  were  first  breeched  and  first  snave-t 

May  now  be  hewn  down,  and  may  waver  no  more  ! 


1077  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  9.  1078 

How  well  I  remember,  when  Spring  flowers  were  blowing, 

With  rapture  I  oropt  the  first  Crocuses  there  ! 
Life  seemed  like  a  Lamp  in  eternity  glowing, 

Nor  dreamt  I  that  all  the  green  boughs  would  be  sear. 

In  Summer,  while  feasting  on  Currants  and  Cherries, 

And  roving  through  Strawberry  Beds  with  delight, 
I  thought  not  of  Autumn's  Grapes,  Nuts,  and  Blackberries, 

Nor  of  Ivy  decked  Winter  cold  shivering  in  white. 

E'en  in  that  frosty  season,  my  Grandfather's  Hall  in, 

I  used  to  sit  turning  Ihe  Electric  Machine, 
And  taking  from  Shockbottles  shocks  much  less  galling, 

If  sharper  than  those  of  my  manhood  I  ween. 

The  Chesnuts  I  picked  up  and  flung  in  the  fires, 

The  Evergreens  gathered  the  hot  coals  to  choke ; 
Made  reports  that  were  emblems  of  blown  up  desires, 

And  warm  glowing  hopes  that  have  ended  in  smoke. 

How  oft  have  I  sat  on  the  green  bench  astonished 

To  gaze  at  Orion  and  Night's  shady  car, 
By  the  starspangled  Sky's  Magic  Lantern  admonished 

Of  time  and  of  space  that  were  distant  afar ! 

But  now  when  embarked  on  Life's  rough  troubled  ocean, 

While  Hope  with  her  anchor  stands  up  on  the  bow, 
May  Fortune  take  care  of  my  skiff  put  in  motion, 

Nor  sink  me  when  coyly  she  steps  on  the  prow. 


NALURALISTS'  CALENDAR.  three   yards   eight  inches  long.     It  was 

Mean  Temperature  ....  62  .  97.  claimed  by  the   lord  of  the  manor,  but 

afterwards  demanded  by  the  king's  fal- 
cone*  as  a  royal  bird  and  carried  to 
court. 

THE  EAGLE — A  ROYAL  BIRD.  

The  "  Gentleman's  Magazine"  records  It  was  formerly  a  custom  with  itinerant 

that,  on  August  the  ninth,  1734  a  large  showmen,  who  had  tolerably  sized  eagles 

eagle  was  taken  near  Carlton,  in  Kent,  by  a  among  their   "wonders   of  nature,"    to 

taylor :  its  wings  when  expanded  were  call  them  "  Eagles  of  the  Sun." 


To  THE  SUN. 

Most  glorious  orb  !  that  wert  a  worship,  ere 
The  mystery  of  thy  making  was  reveal  d  ! 
Thou  earliest  minister  of  the  Almighty, 
Which  gladden'd,  on  their  mountain  tops,  the  hearts 
Of  the  Chaldean  shepherds,  till  they  pour'd 
Themselves  in  orisons  !     Thou  material  God ! 
A  nd  representative  of  the  Unknown — 
Who  chose  thee  for  His  shadow  !    Thou  chief  star  1 
Centre  of  many  stars  !  which  mak'st  our  earth 
Endurable,  and  temperest  the  hues 
And  hearts  of  all  who  walk  within  thy  rays ; 
Sire  of  the  seasons  !     Monarch  of  the  climes, 
And  those  who  dwell  in  them !  for  near  01  far, 
Our  inborn  spirits  have  a  tint  of  thee, 
Even  as  our  outward  aspects  ; — thou  dost  rise, 
And  shine,  and  set  in  glory.     Fare  thee  well !  Byron. 


1079 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  10. 


1080 


SUNSET. 

We  walked  along  the  pathway  of  a  field, 
Which  to  the  east  a  hoar  wood  shadowed  o'er, 
But  to  the  west  was  open  to  the  sky  : 
There  now  the  sun  had  sunk ;  but  lines  of 

gold 

Hung  on  the  ashen  clouds,  and  on  the  points 
Of  the  far  level  grass  and  nodding  flowers, 
And  the  eld  dandelion's  hoary  beard, 
And,  mingled  with  the  shades  of  twilight  lay 
On  the  brown  massy  woods  :  and  in  the  east 
The  broad    and    burning   moon  lingeringly 

rose 

Between  the  black  trunks  of  the  crowded  trees, 
While  the  faint  stars  were  gathering  over- 
head. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     ....  62  •  45. 


10. 

Tins  is  the  festival  day  of  St.  Lawrence. 
CHRONOLOGY. 

Old  Anthony  Munday,  the  pleasant 
continuator  of  Stow's  u  Survey,"  ren- 
ders this  day  remarkable  by  a  curious 
notice. 


Capa 


This  is  an  exactly  reduced  fac-simile 
representation  of  the  wood-cut  in  Stow, 
and  the  following  is  Anthony  Munday's 
story : — 

"  This  monument,  or  that  of  which  this  is 
a  shadow,  with  their  characters  engraven 
about  it,  stands  in  Petty  France,  at  the 
west  end  of  the  lower  churchyard  of  St. 
Botolphes,  Bishopsgate,  (not  within,  but 
without  the  walls,  the  bounds  of  our  con- 
secrated ground,)  and  was  erected  to  the 
memory  of  one  Coi/a  Shatvstvare,  a  Per- 
sian merchant,  and  a  principal  servant 


'£>  Comb* 


and  secretary  to  the  Persian  ambassadour, 
with  whom  he  and  his  sonne  came  over. 
He  was  aged  forty -four,  and  buried  the 
tenth  of  August,  1626  :  the  ambassadour 
himselfe,  young  Shawsware  his  sonne, 
and  many  other  Persians  (with  many  ex- 
pressions of  their  infinite  love  and  sorrow) 
following  him  to  the  ground  betweene 
eight  and  nine  of  the  clocke  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  rites  and  ceremonies  that  (with 
them)  are  done  to  the  dead,  were  chiefly 
performed  by  his  sonne,  who,  sitting 
crosse-legged  at  the  north  end  of  the 


1081 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  11. 


1082 


grave,  (for  his  tombe  stands  north  and 
south,)  did  one  while  reade,  another  while 
sing ;  his  reading  and  singing  intermixt 
sighing  and  weeping :  and  this,  with 
other  things  that  were  done  in  the  grave 
in  private  (to  prevent  with  the  sight  the 
relation)  continued  about  halfe  an  houre. 
"  But  this  was  but  this  dayes  businesse  : 
for,  as  this  had  not  beene  enough  to  per- 
forme  to  their  friend  departed,  to  this 
place  and  to  this  end  (that  is,  prayer,  and 
other  funerall  devotions)  some  of  them 
came  every  morning  and  evening  at  sixe 
and  sixe,  for  the  space  of  a  moneth  to- 
gether ;  and  had  come  (as  it  was  then 
imagined)  the  whole  time  of  their  abode 
here  in  England,  had  not  the  rudenesse 
of  our  people  disturbed  and  prevented 
their  purpose." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature 63-69. 


11. 


Dog  Days  end. 
CLOUDS. 

Clouds  are  defined  to  be  a  collection  ot 
rapours  suspended  in  the  atmosphere,  and 
rendered  visible. 

Although  it  be  generally  allowed  that 
clouds  are  formed  from  the  aqueous  va- 
pours, which  before  were  so  closely  united 
with  the  atmosphere  as  to  be  invisible,  it 
is  not  easy  to  account  for  the  long  con- 
tinuance of  some  very  opaque  clouds 
without  dissolving  ;  or  to  assign  the  rea- 
son why  the  vapours,  when  they  have  once 
begun  to  condense,  do  not  continue  to  do 
so  till  they  at  last  fell  to  the  ground  in  the 
form  of  rain  or  snow,  &c.  It  is  now 
known  that  a  separation  of  the  latent  heat 
from  the  water,  of  which  vapour  is  com- 
posed, is  attended  with  a  condensation  of' 
that  vapour  in  some  degree  ;  in  such  case 
it  will  first  appear  as  a  smoke,  mist,  or 
fog  ;  which,  if  interposed  between  the  sun 
and  earth,  will  form  a  cloud  ;  and  the 
same  causes  continuing  to  operate,  the 
cloud  will  produce  rain  or  snow.  It  is 
however  abundantly  evident  that  some 
other  cause  beside  mere  heat  or  cold  is 
concerned  in  the  formation  of  clouds,  and 
the  condensation  of  atmospherical  va- 
pours. This  cause  is  esteemed  in  a  great 


measure  the  electrical  fluid  ;  indeed  elec 
tricity  is  now  so  generally  admitted  as  an 
agent  in  all  the  great  operations  of  nature, 
that  it  is  no  wonder  to  find  the  formation 
of  clouds  attributed  to  it ;  and  this  has 
accordingly  been  given  by  Beccaria  as  the 
cause  of  the  formation  of  all  clouds  what- 
soever, whether  of  thunder,  rain,  hail,  or 
snow. 

But  whether  the  clouds  are  produced, 
that  is,  the  atmospheric  vapours  rendered 
visible,  by  means  of  electricity  or  not,  it 
is  certain  that  they  do  often  contain  the 
electric  fluid  in  prodigious  quantities,  and 
many  terrible  and  destructive  accidents 
have  been  occasioned  by  clouds  very 
highly  electrified.  The  most  extraordinary 
instance  of  this  kind  perhaps  on  record, 
happened  in  the  island  of  Java,  in  the 
East  Indies,  in  August,  1772.  On  the 
eleventh  of  that  month,  at  midnight,  a 
bright  cloud  was  observed  covering  a 
mountain  in  the  district  called  Cheribou, 
and  several  reports  like  those  of  a  gun 
were  heard  at  the  same  time.  The  peo- 
ple who  dwelt  upon  the  upper  parts  of 
the  mountain  not  being  able  to  fly  fast 
enough,  a  great  part  of  the  cloud,  eight 
or' nine  miles  in  circumference,  detached 
itself  under  them,  and  was  seen  at  a  dis- 
tance, rising  and  falling  like  the  waves  of 
the  sea,  and  emitting  globes  of  fire  so 
luminous,  that  the  night  became  as  clear 
as  day.  The  effects  of  it  were  astonish- 
ing ;  every  thing  was  destroyed  for  twenty 
miles  round ;  the  houses  were  demolished; 
plantations  were  buried  in  the  earth;  and 
two  thousand  one  hundred  and  forty  peo- 
ple-lost their  lives,  besides  one  thousand 
five  hundred  head  of  cattle,  and  a  vast 
number  of  horses,  goats,  &c. 


The  height  of  the  clouds  is  not  usually 
great :  the  summits  of  high  mountains 
being  commonly  quite  free  from  them,  as 
many  travellers  have  experienced  in  pass- 
ing these  mountains.  It  is  found  that  the 
most  highly  electrified  clouds  descend 
lowest,  their  height  being  often  not  more 
than  seven  or  eight  hundred  yards  above 
the  ground ;  and  sometimes  thunder- 
clouds appear  actually  to  touch  the  ground 
with  one  of  their  edges  ;  but  the  gene- 
rality of  clouds  are  suspended  at  the 
height  of  a  mile,  or  little  more,  above  the 
earth. 


The  motions  of  the  clouds,  though  often 


1033 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  12. 


1084 


directed  by  the  wind,  are  not  always  so, 
especially  when  thunder  is  about  to  ensue. 
In  this  case  they  are  seen  to  move  very 
slowly,  or  even  to  appear  quite  stationary 
for  some  time.  The  reason  of  this  pro- 
bably is,  that  they  are  impelled  by  two 
opposite  streams  of  air  nearly  of  equal 
strength ;  and  in  such  cases  it  seems  that 
both  the  aerial  currents  ascend  to  a  con- 
siderable height;  for  Messrs.  Charles 
and  Robert,  when  endeavouring  to  avoid 
a  thunder  cloud,  in  one  of  their  aerial 
voyages  with  a  balloon,  could  find  no 
alteration  in  the  course  of  the  current, 
though  they  ascended  to  the  height  of 
four  thousand  feet  above  the  earth.  In 
some  cases  the  motions  of  the  clouds  evi- 
dently depend  on  their  electricity,  inde- 
pendent of  any  current  of  air  whatever. 
Thus,  in  a  calm  and  warm  day,  small 
clouds  are  often  seen  meeting  each  other 
in  opposite  directions,  and  setting  out 
from  such  short  distances,  that  it  cannot 
be  supposed  that  any  opposite  winds  are 
the  cause.  Such  clouds,  when  they  meet, 
instead  of  forming  a  larger  one,  become 
much  smaller,  and  sometimes  quite  vanish ; 
a  circumstance  most  probably  owing  to 
the  discharge  of  opposite  electricities  into 
each  other.  And  this  serves  also  to 
throw  some  light  on  the  true  cause  of  the 
formation  of  clouds ;  for  if  two  clouds, 
the  one  electrified  positively,  and  the 
other  negatively,  destroy  each  other  on 
contact,  it  follows  that  any  quantity  of 
vapour  suspended  in  the  atmosphere,  while 
it  retains  its  natural  quantity  of  electricity, 
remains  invisible,  but  becomes  a  cloud 
when  electrified  either  plus  or  minus. 


The  shapes  of  the  clouds  are  probably 
owing  to  their  electricity ;  for  in  those 
seasons  in  which  a  great  commotion  has 
been  excited  in  the  atmospherical  electri- 
city, the  clouds  are  seen  assuming  strange 
and  whimsical  shapes,  that  are  contin- 
ually varying.  This,  as  well  as  the  meet- 
ing of  small  clouds  in  the  air,  and  vanish- 
ing upon  contact,  is  a  sure  sign  of  thunder. 

The  uses  of  the  clouds  are  evident,  as 
from  them  proceeds  the  rain  that  refreshes 
the  earth,  and  without  which,  according 
to  the  present  state  of  nature,  the  whole 
surface  of  the  earth  must  become  a  mere 
desert.  They  are  likewise  useful  as  a 
screen  interposed  between  the  earth  and 
the  scorching  rays  of  the  sun,  which  are 


often  so  powerful  as  to  destroy  the  grass 
and  other  tender  vegetables.  In  the  more 
secret  operations  of  nature  too,  where  the 
electric  fluid  is  concerned,  the  clouds 
bear  a  principal  share ;  and  chiefly  serv- 
as  a  medium  for  conveying  that  fluid  from 
the  atmosphere  into  the  earth,  and  from 
the  earth  into  the  atmosphere  :  in  doing 
which,  when  electrified  to  a  great  degree, 
they  sometimes  produce  very  terrible 
effects ;  an  instance  of  which  is  related 
above.* 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .     .  63  •  35- 


august  12. 

K.  GEORGE  IV.  BORN. 

On  the  twenty-fifth  of  August,  1761, 
the  princess  Charlotte  of  Mecklinburgh 
Strelitz,  embarked  with  her  attendants  at 
Cuxhaven,  on  board  the  royal  yacht,  under 
the  salute  of  a  squadron  destined  to  con- 
vey her  to  England,  as  the  affianced  bride 
of  his  majesty  George  III.  On  the 
twenty-eighth,  she  sailed,  and  after  that 
day,  no  despatches  were  received  until  she 
arrived  at  Harwich,  on  the  sixth  of  Sep- 
tember. 

The  court  was  in  some  concern  lest  the 
tediousness  of  her  voyage  might  have  af- 
fected her  health;  but  her  highness,  during 
her  tedious  passage,  continued  in  very  good 
health  and  spirits,  often  diverting  herself 
with  playing  on  the  harpsichord,  prac- 
tising English  tunes,  and  endearing  her- 
self to  those  who  were  honoured  with  the 
care  of  her  person.  She  had  been  twice 
in  sight  of  the  British  coast,  and  as  often 
driven  off  by  contrary  winds;  one  day  in 
hopes  of  landing  on  English  groxmd,  and 
the  next  in  danger  of  being  driven  to  the 
coasts  of  Norway.  Her  arrival,  therefore, 
was  a  desirable  event;  but  as  it  was  night 
when  she  came  to  Harwich,  her  highness 
slept  on  board,  and  continued  there  till 
three  in  the  afternoon  the  next  day,  du- 
ring which  time  her  route  had  been  set- 
tled, and  instructions  received  as  to  the 
manner  of  her  proceeding  to  St.  James's. 

At  her  landing,  she  was  received  by  the 
mayor  and  aldermen  of  Harwich,  in  their 
usual  formalities.  About  five  o'clock  she 
came  to  Colchester,  and  stopped  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Enew,  where  she  was  re- 

*  J>r.  IJutton. 


1085 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  12. 


1086 


ceived  and  waited  upon  by  Mrs.  Enew 
and  Mrs .  P-ebow ;  but  captain  Best  at- 
tended her  with  coffee,  and  lieutenant 
John  Seaber  with  tea.  Being  thus  re- 
freshed, she  proceeded  to  Witham,  where 
she  arrived  at  a  quarter  past  seven,  and 
stopped  at  lord  Abercorn's,  ^nd  his  lord- 
ship  provided  as  elegant  an  entertainment 
for  her  as  the  time  would  admit.  During 
supper,  the  door  of  the  room  was  ordered 
to  stand  open,  that  every  body  might  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  highness,  and 
on  each  side  of  her  chair  stood  the  lords 
Harcourt  ana  Anson.  She  slept  that  night 
at  his  lordship's  house. 

A  little  after  twelve  o'clock  next  day, 
her  highners  came  to  Romford,  where  the 
king's  coach  ard  servants  met  her;  and 
after  stopping  to  drink  coffee  at  Mr.  Dut- 
ton's  where  she  was  waited  upon  by  the 
king's  servants,  she  entered  the  king's 
coach.  The  attendants  of  her  highness 
were  in  three  other  coaches.  In  the  first 
were  some  ladies  of  Mecklenturgh,  and  in 
the  last  was  her  highness,  who  sat  for- 
ward, and  the  duchess  of  Ancaster  and 
Hamilton  backward. 

On  the  road  she  was  extremely  court- 
eous to  every  body,  showing  herself,  and 
bowing  to  all  who  seemed-  desirous  of 
seeing  her,  and  ordering  the  coach  to  go 
extremely  slow  through  the  towns  and 
villages  as  she  passed,  that  as  many  as 
would  might  have  a  full  view  of  her.  The 
carriages  were  attended  by  an*ii.credible 
number  of  spectators,  both  on  horse  and 
foot,  to  Stralford-le-Bow  and  Mile-end, 
where  they  turned  up  Dog- row,  and  pro- 
secuted their  journey  to  Hackney  turn- 
pike, then  by  Shoreditch  church,  and  up 
Old-street  to  the  City-road,  across  Isling- 
ton, along  the  New-road  into  Hyde-park, 
down  Constitution-hill  into  St.  James's 
park,  and  then  to  the  garden-gate  of  the 
palace,  where  she  was  received  by  all  the 
royal  family.  She  was  handed  out  of  the 
coach  by  the  duke  of  York,  and  met  in 
the  garden  by  his  majesty,  who  in  a  very 
affectionate  manner  raised  her  up  and  sa- 
luted her,  as  she  was  going  to  pay  her 
obeisance,  and  then  led  her  into  the  pa- 
lace, where  she  dined  with  his  majesty, 
the  princess  dowager,  and  the  princess 
Augusta.  After  dinner  her  highness  was 
pleased  to  show  herself  with  his  majesty 
in  the  gallery  and  other  apartments  front- 
ing the  park. 

About  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening,  the 
procession  began  to  the  chapel-royal. 
Her  highness  was  attended  by  six  dukes' 


daughters  as  bride-maids ;  her  train 
was  supported  by  the  daughters  of  six 
earls,  and  she  was  preceded  by  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  ladies  in  extremely  rich 
dresses,  who  were  handed  into  tht  chapel 
by  the  duke  of  York.  The  marriage  ce- 
remony was  performed  by  the  archbishop 
of  Canterbury.  The  duke  of  Cumberland 
gave  the  prir  cess's  hand  to  his  majesty, 
and,  immediately  on  the  joining  of  their 
hands,  the  park  and  tower  guns  were 
fired.  There  was  afterwards  a  public 
drawing-room;  but  no  one  was  presented. 
The  metropolis  was  illuminated,  and  there 
were  the  utmost  public  demonstrations 
of  joy. 

On  the  following  day,  the  ninth  of  Sep- 
tember, there  was  the  most  brilliant  court 
at  St.  James's  ever  remembered. 

On  the  fourteenth,  the  lord  mayor, 
aldermen,  and  common  council  of  Lon- 
don, waited,  on  their  majesties  and  the 
princess  dowager  of  Wales,  with  their 
addresses  of  congratulation.  On  the  same 
day  the  chancellor  and  university  of  Cam- 
bridge presented  the  university  address, 
and  in  the  evening,  about  a  quarter  after 
six,  their  majesties  went  to  Drury-lam 
theatre  in  chairs,  and  most  of  the  royal 
family  in  coaches,  to  see  the  "  Rehearsal ;" 
they  were  attended  by  the  horse  guards. 
The  theatre  was  full  almost  as  soon  as 
the  doors  were  opened.  Of  the  vast  multi- 
tude assembled,  not  a  fiftieth  part  gained 
admission.  Never  was  seen  so  brilliant  a 
house  ;  the  ladies  were  mostly  dressed  in 
the  clothes  and  jewels  they  wore  at  the 
royal  marriage. 


On  the  twelfth  of  August,  1762,  at 
twenty-four  minutes  after  seven,  an  heir 
apparent  to  the  throne  afterwards  king 
George  IV.,  was  born.  The  archbishop 
of  Canterbury  was  in  the  room,  and 
certain  great  officers  of  state  in  a  room 
adjoining,  with  the  door  open  into  the 
queen's  apartment.  The  person  who 
waited  on  the  king  with  the  news,  re- 
ceived a  present  of  a  five  hundred  pound 
bank  bill.* 

On  this  occasion,  congratulatory  ad- 
dresses flowed  in  on  their  majesties  from 
every  part  of  the  kingdom.  v 

The  quakers'  address  was  presented  to 
his  majesty  on  the  first  of  October,  and 
read  by  Dr.  Fothergill,  as  follows : — 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  13,14. 


1033 


George  the  Third,  king  of  Great 
Britain,  and  the  dominions  thereunto 
belonging. 

The  humble  address  of  his  Protestant  sub- 
jects, the  people  called  Quakers. 

May  it  please  the  king, 
The  satisfaction  we  feel  in  every  event 
that  adds  to  the  happiness  of  our  sove- 
reign, prompts  us  to  request  admittance 
to  the  throne,  on  the  present  interesting 
occasion. 

The  birth  of  a  prince,  the  safety  of  the 
queen,  and  thy  own  domestic  felicity  in- 
creased, call  for  our  thankfulness  to  the 
Supreme  Dispenser  of  every  blessing ;  and 
to  the  king  our  dutiful  and  unfeigned 
congratulations. 

In  the  prince  of  Wales  we  behold  ano- 
ther pledge  of  the  security  of  those  ines- 
timable privileges,  which  we  have  enjoyed 
under  the  monarchs  of  thy  illustrious 
house— kings,  distinguished  by  their  jus- 
tice, their  clemency,  and  regard  to  the 
prosperity  of  their  people  :  a  happy  pre- 
sage, that  under  their  descendants,  our 
civil  and  religious  liberties  will  devolve, 
in  their  full  extent,  to  succeeding  genera- 
tions. 

Long  may  the  Divine  Providence  pre- 
serve a  life  of  so  great  importance  to  his 
royal  parents,  to  these  kingdoms,  and  to 
posterity  ;  that  formed  to  piety  and  virtue, 
he  may  live  beloved  of  God  and  man,  and 
fill  at  length  the  British  throne  with  a 
lustre  not  inferior  to  his  predecessors. 

The  King's  answer. 

I  take  very  kindly  this  fresh  instance  of 
your  duty  and  affection,  and  your  congra- 
tulations on  an  event  so  interesting  to  me 
and  my  family.  You  may  always  rely  on 
my  protection. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature 64 


35. 


august  13. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

August  13, 1783. — The  eminent  lawyer, 
John  Dunning  (lord  Ashburton)  died. 
He  was  the  second  son  of  an  attorney  at 
Ashburton,  in  Devonshire,  where  he  was 
bora,  October  18,  1731,  educated  at  the 
free-school  there,  and  articled  to  his  father. 
Preferring  the  principles  to  the  practice 
of  the  law,  he  obtained  admission  to  the 
bar,  and  attended  on  the  court  and  circuits 


without  briefs,  till,  in  1759,  he  drew  a 
memorial  in  behalf  of  the  East  India 
company  against  the  claims  of  the  Dutch, 
which  was  deemed  a  masterpiece  in  lan- 
guage and  reasoning,  and  brought  him 
into  immediate  notice.  His  able  argu- 
ments against  general  warrants  obtained 
him  high  reputation,  and  he  was  engaged 
in  almost  every  great  case.  He  became 
successively  recorder  of  Bristol,  member 
for  Calne,  and  solicitor-general,  which 
office  he  surrendered  on  the  resignation 
of  his  friend  lord  Shelburne.  When  this 
nobleman  returned  to  power  he  made  Mr. 
Dunning  chancellor  of  the  duchy  of  Lan- 
caster, and  a  peer  of  parliament.  At  the 
bar  he  was  a  most  eloquent  and  powerful 
orator,  and  in  the  house  of  commons  a 
distinguished  opponent  of  the  American 
war.  He  is  reputed  to  have  been  the 
soundest  common  and  constitutional  law- 
yer of  his  time.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  62  •  77. 


14. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

August  14,  1794,  died  George  Colrnan 
the  elder,  an  elegant  scholar,  and  dra- 
matist.  He  was  born  in  1733,  at  Florence, 
where  his  father  was  appointed  resident 
from  Great  Britain  to  the  court  of  Tus- 
cany. He  received  his  education  at 
Westminster-school,  and  Christchurch- 
college,  Oxford,  where  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  Lloyd,  Churchill,  and  Bon- 
nel  Thornton.  In  conjunction  with  the 
latter  he  wrote  "  the  Connoisseur,"  which 
procured  him  many  eminent  literary 
friendships.  By  the  advice  of  lord  Bath  he 
went  to  the  bar,  but  neglected  its  duties  to 
court  the  muses.  His  fame  as  a  dramatist 
is  maintained  by  the  "  Clandestine  Mar- 
riage," the  "  Provoked  Husband,"  and 
the  "  Jealous  Wife."  He  wrote  several 
other  pieces  for  the  stage,  translated 
Terence,  and  Horace's  "Art  of  Poetry ,"  and 
became  manager  of  Covent-garden  theatre, 
and  afterwards  the  patentee  of  the  little 
theatre  in  the  Haymarket,  which  he 
managed  till  paralysis  impaired  his  facul- 
ties, and  he  sunk  into  a  state  of  helpless-, 
ness,  from  whence  he  never  recovered. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  27. 


«  General  Biographical  Dictionary,  vol.  i.  p.  673. 


1089 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGU&T  15. 


1090 


august  15. 

ASSUMPTION,  B.  V.  M. 

This  Romish  festival  is  retained  in  the 
church  of  England  calendar. 

Our  old  acquaintance  Barnaby  Googe 
bimes  of  this  festival  from  Naogeorgus : — 

The  blessed  virgin  Marie's  feast, 

hath  here  his  place  and  time, 
Wherein  departing  from  the  earth, 

she  did  the  heavens  clime  ; 
Great  bundels  then  of  hearbes  to  Church, 

the  people  fast  doe  beare, 
The  which  against  all  hurtful  I  things, 

the  priest  doth  hallow  theare. 
Thus  kindle  they  and  nourish  still, 


the  people's  wickednesse, 
nd  vainly 


And  vainly  make  them  to  beleeve 

whatsoever  they  expresse  : 
For  sundrie  witchcrafts  by  these  hearbs 

ar  wrought,  and  divers  charmes, 
And  cast  into  the  fire,  are  thought 

to  drive  away  all  harmes, 
And  everv  painefull  griefe  from  man, 

or  beatt,  for  to  expell, 
Fanre  otherwise  than  nature,  or 

the  worde  of  God  doth  tell. 


II 


There  is  a  volume  printed  at  Amsterdam, 
1657,  entitled,  "Jesus,  Maria,  Joseph; 
or  the  Devout  Pilgrim  of  the  Everlasting 
Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  in  his  Holy  Ex- 
ercises, Affections,  and  Elevations,  upon 
the  sacred  Mysteries  of  Jesus,  Maria, 
Joseph."  From  this  curious  book  an 
amusing  extract  may  be  adduced,  as  a  spe- 
cimen of  the  language  employed  by  certain 
writers  of  the  Romish  church  in  their  ad- 
dresses to  the  virgin  : — 

"  You,  O  Mother  of  God,  are  the 
spiritual  Paradise  of  the  second  Adam ; 
the  delicate  cabinet  of  that  divine  mar- 
riage which  was  made  betwixt  the  two 
natures  ;  the  great  hall  wherein  was  cele- 
brated the  world's  general  reconciliation ; 
you  are  the  nuptial  bed  of  the  eternal 
word  ;  the  bright  cloud  carrying  him  who 
hath  the  cherubins  for  his  chariot ;  the  fleece 
of  wool  filled  with  the  sweet  dew  of  hea- 
ven, whereof  was  made  that  admirable 
robe  of  our  royal  shepherd,  in  which  he 
vouchsafed  to  look  after  his  lost  sheep ;  you 
are  the  maid  and  the  mother,  the  humble 
virgin  and  the  high  heaven  both  together  ; 
you  are  the  sacred  bridge  whereby  God 
himself  descended  to  the  earth  ;  you  are 
VOL.  II.— 87. 


that  piece  of  cloth  whereof  was  composed 
the  glorious  garment  of  hypostatical  union, 
where  the  worker  was  the  Holy  Ghost, 
the  hand  the  virtue  of  the  Most  High,  the  . 
wool  the  old  spoils  of  Adam,  the  woof 
your  own  immaculate  flesh,  and  the  shut- 
tle God's  incomparable  goodness,  which 
freely  gave  us  the  ineffable  person  of  the 
word  incarnate. 

"  You  are  the  container  of  the  incom- 
prehensible ;  the  root  of  the  world's  first, 
best,  and  most  beautiful  flower ;  the  mo- 
ther of  him  who  made  all  things;  the 
nurse  of  him  who  provides  nourishment 
for  the  whole  universe  ;  the  bosom  of  him 
who  unfolds  all  being  within  his  breast ; 
the  unspotted  robe  of  him  who  is  clothed 
with  light  as  with  a  garment ;  you  are  the 
sally-port  through  which  God  penetrated 
into  the  world ;  you  are  the  pavilion  of 
the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  yon  are  the  furnace 
into  which  the  Almighty  hath  particularly 
darted  the  most  fervent  sunbeams  of  his 
dearest  love  and  affection. 

"  All  hail !  fruitful  earth,  alone  proper 
and  only  prepared  to  bring  forth  the  bread 
corn  by  which  we  are  all  sustained  and 
nourished  ;  happy  leaven,which  hath  given 
relish  to  Adam's  whole  race,  and  seasoned 
the  paste  whereof  the  true  life-giving  and 
soul-saving  bread  was  composed ;  ark  of 
honour  in  which  God  himself  was  pleased 
to  repose,  and  where  very  glory  itself  be- 
came sanctified ;  golden  pitcher,  contain- 
ing him  who  provides  sweet  manna  from 
heaven,  and  produces  honey  from  the  rock 
to  satisfy  the  appetites  of  his  hungry  peo- 
ple ;  you  are  the  admirable  house  of  God's 
humiliation,  through  whose  door  he  de- 
scended to  dwell  among  us ;  the  living 
book  wherein  the  Father's  eternal  word 
was  written  by  the  pen  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
You  are  pleasing  and  comely  as  Jerusa- 
lem, and  the  aromatical  odours   issuing 
from  your  garments  outvie  all  the  delights 
of  Mount  Lebanus ;  you  are  the  sacred 
pix  of  celestial  perfumes,  whose  sweet  ex- 
halations shall  never  be  exhausted ;  you 
are   the   holy   oil,   the   unextinguishable 


lamp,  the  unfading  flower,  the  divinely- 
woven  purple,  the  royal  vestment,  the 
imperial  diadem,  the  throne  of  the  divini- 
ty, the  gate  of  Paradise,  the  queen  of  the 
universe,  the  cabinet  of  life,  the  fountain 
ever  flowing  with  celestial  illustrations. 

"  All  hail !  the  divine  lantern  encom- 
passing that  crystal  lamp  whose  light  out- 
shines the  sun  in  its  midday  spiendour , 
the  spiritual  sea  whence  the  world's 
richest  pearl  was  extracted ;  the  radiant 


1091 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  15 


i')92 


sphere,  enclosing  him  within  your  sacred 
folds,  whom  the  heavens  cannot  contain 
within  their  vast  circumference  ;  the  celes- 
tial throne  of  God,  more  glistering  than 
that  of  the  glorious  cherubims,  the  pure 
temple,  tabernacle,  and  seat  of  the 
divinity. 

"  You  are  the  well-fenced  orchard,  the 
fruitful  border,  the  fair  and  delicate  gar- 
den of  sweet  flowers,  embalming  the 
earth  and  air  with  their  odoriferous  fra- 
gr  nee,  yet  shut  up  and  secured  from  any 
enemy's  entrance  and  irruption  ;  you  are 
the  holy  fountain,  sealed  with  the  signet  of 
the  most  sacred  Trinity,  from  whence  the 
happy  waters  of  life  inflow  upon  the  whole 
universe  ;  you  are  the  happy  city  of  God, 
whereof  such  glorious  things  are  every- 
where sung  and  spoken."* 


NOTRE  DAME  DES  ANGES. 

One  of  the  highest  mountains  of  the 
chain  that  encircles  the  territory  of  Mar- 
seilles, has  upon  its  summit  a  very  singu- 
lar rock,  which  appears  exactly  like  the 
ruin  of  an  old  castle.  This  mountain  de- 
rived its  name  from  a  chapel  about  half- 
way up,  dedicated  to  the  holy  virgin, 
under  the  name  of  "  Notre  Dame  des 
Anges,"  but  destroyed  during  the  revolu- 
tion. On  the  day  of  the  Assumption, 
there  is  held  on  the  mountain  in  the  vici- 
nity of  the  chapel,  what  is  called  in  the 
Provencal  tongue,  a  ronmaragi,  which  is 
a  country  feast.  The  people  from  the 
neighbouring  parts  assemble  on  the  spot, 
dressed  in  their  Sunday  clothes,  where 
they  join  in  dancing,  playing  at  bowls,  of 
which  the  Provencaux  are  passionately 
fond,  quoits,  running  races,  and  other 
rural  sports.  Every  village  in  Provence 
has  a  similar  fete  on  some  day  in  the 
year.  In  case  of  the  village  being  named 
after  any  saint,  which  is  very  common,  as 
St.  Joseph,  St.  Barnabe,  St.  Zacharie,  St. 
Louis,  and  many  others,  the  roumaragi  is 
held  on  that  saint's  day.  That  on  the 
mountain  of  Notre  Dame  des  Anges  is 
held  on  the  Assumption,  on  account  of 
the  chapel  having  been  dedicated  to  the 
holy  virgin.  During  the  revolution  there 
was  a  general  suspension  of  these  festivals, 
but  to  the  great  joy  of  the  Provencaux, 
they  were  resumed  under  Napoleon.f 


*  Dr.  Aikm's  Athenaeum, 
t  Mis*  J'linriDtre. 


PAGEANT  OF  THE  ASSUMPTION 
AT  ROUEN. 

It  is  related  in  Mr.  Dawson  Tur- 
ner's "  Tour  through  Normandy,"  that 
formerly  a  pageant  in  honour  of  the 
virgin  was  held  in  the  archbishopric  of 
Rouen.  Des  Marets,  the  governor  of 
Dieppe,  in  1443,  established  it  in  honour 
of  the  final  expulsion  of  the  English.  The 
first  master  of  the  Guild  of  the  Assump- 
tion was  the  founder  of  it,  under  whose 
auspices  and  direction  it  was  conducted. 

About  midsummer  the  principal  inha- 
bitants used  to  assemble  at  the  hotel  de 
ville,  or  townhouse  of  Dieppe,  and  there 
they  selected  the  girl  of  the  most  exem- 
plary character  to  represent  the  Virgin 
Mary,  and  with  her  six  other  young  wo- 
men, to  act  the  parts  of  the  daughters  of 
Sion.  The  honour  of  figuring  in  this  holy 
drama  was  greatly  coveted ;  and  the  his- 
torian of  Dieppe  gravely  assures  us,  that 
the  earnestness  felt  on  the  occasion  mainly 
contributed  to  the  preservation  of  that 
purity  of  manners  and  that  genuine  piety, 
which  subsisted  in  this  town  longer  than 
in  any  other  of  France !  But  the  election 
of  the  virgin  was  not  sufficient :  a  repre- 
sentative of  St.  Peter  was  also  to  be  found 
among  the  clergy  ;  and  the  laity  were  so 
far  favoured,  that  they  were  permitted  to 
furnish  the  eleven  other  apostles. 

This  done,  upon  the  fourteenth  of  August 
the  virgin  was  laid  in  a  cradle  of  the  form 
of  a  tomb,  and  was  carried  early  in  the 
morning,  (of  the  fifteenth,)  attended  by 
her  suite  of  either  sex,  to  the  church  of  St. 
Jacques ;  while,  before  the  door  of  the 
master  of  the  guild,  was  stretched  a  large 
carpet,  embroidered  with  verses  in  letters 
of  gold,  setting  forth  his  own  good  quali- 
ties, and  his  love  for  the  holy  Mary. 
Hither  also,  as  soon  as  lauds  had  been 
sung,  the  procession  repaired  from  the 
church,  and  then  it  was  joined  by  the  go- 
vernor of  the  town,  the  members  of  the 
guild,  the  municipal  officers,  and  the 
clergy  of  the  parish  of  St.  Remi.  Thus 
attended,  they  paraded  the  town,  singing 
hymns,  which  were  accompanied  by  a  full 
band.  The  procession  was  increased  by 
the  great  body  of  the  inhabitants ;  and  its 
impressiveness  was  still  further  augmented 
by  numbers  of  the  youth  of  either  sex, 
who  assumed  the  garb  and  attributes  of 
their  patron  saints,  and  mixed  in  the  im- 
mediate train  of  the  principal  actors.  They 
then  again  repaired  to  the  church,  where  TV 
Deum  was  sung  by  the  full  choir,  in  com- 


1093 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  15. 


1094 


memoration  of  the  victory  over  the  Eng- 
lish ;  and  high  mass  was  performed,  and 
the  sacrament  administered  to  the  whole 
party. 

During  the  service,  a  scenic  representa- 
tion was  given  of  the  Assumption  of  the 
Virgin.  A  scaffolding  was  raised,  reach- 
ing nearly  to  the  top  of  the  dome,  and  sup- 
porting an  azure  canopy  intended  to  emu- 
late the  "  spangled  vault  of  heaven  •"  and 
about  two  feet  below  the  summit  of  it  ap- 
peared, seated  on  a  splendid  throne,  an 
old  man  as  the  image  of  the  Father  Al- 
mighty, a  representation  equally  absurd 
and  impious,  and  which  could  alone  be 
tolerated  by  the  votaries  of  the  worst  su- 
perstitions of  popery.  On  either  side 
four  pasteboard  angels,  of  the  size  of  men, 
floated  in  the  air,  and  flapped  their  wings 
in  cadence  to  the  sounds  of  the  organ  ; 
while  above  was  suspended  a  large  tri- 
angle, at  whose  corners  were  placed  three 
smaller  angels,  who,  at  the  intermission 
of  each  office,  performed  upon  a  set  of 
little  bells  the  hymn  of  "  Ave  Maria  gra- 
tia Dei  plena  per  Secula,"  &c.,  accom- 
panied by  a  larger  angel  on  each  side  with 
a  trumpet.  To  complete  this  portion  of 
the  spectacle,  two  others,  below  the  old 
man's  feet,  held  tapers,  which  were  lighted 
as  the  services  began,  and  extinguished  at 
their  close ;  on  which  occasions  the 
figures  were  made  to  express  reluctance 
by  turning  quickly  about ;  so  that  it  re- 
quired some  dexterity  to  apply  the  extin- 
guishers. At  the  commencement  of  the 
mass,  two  of  the  angels  by  the  side  of  the 
Almighty  descended  to  the  foot  of  the 
altar,  and,  placing  themselves  by  the 
tomb,  in  which  a  pasteboard  figure  of  the 
virgin  had  been  substituted  for  her  living 
representative,  gently  raised  it  to  the  feet 
of  the  Father.  The  image,  as  it  mounted, 
from  time  to  time,  lifted  its  head  and  ex- 


tended its  arms,  as  if  conscious  of  the  ap- 
proaching beatitude ;  then,  after  having 
icceived  the  benediction,  and  been  en- 
circled by  another  angel  with  a  crown  ot 
glory,  it  gradually  disappeared  behind  the 
clouds  At  this  instant  a  buffoon,  who 
all  the  time  had  been  playing  his  antics 
below,  burst  into  an  extravagant  fit  ot 
joy;  at  one  moment  clapping  his  hands 
most  violently,  at  the  next  stretching  him- 
self out  as  if  dead.  Finally  he  ran  up  to 
the  feet  of  the  old  man,  and'  hid  himself 
under  his  legs,  so  as  to  show  only  his 
head.  The  people  called  him  Grimaldi, 
an  appellation  that  appears  to  have  be- 
longed to  him  by  usage ;  and  it  is  a  sin- 
gular coincidence,  that  the  surname  of  the 
noblest  family  of  Genoa  the  Proud,  thus 
assigned  by  the  rude  rabble  of  a  seaport 
to  their  buffoonr  should  belong  of  right  to 
the  sire  and  son,  whose  mops  and  mowes 
afford  pastime  to  the  upper  gallery  at 
Coven  t-garden. 

Thus  did  the  pageant  proceed  in  all  its 
grotesque  glory  ;  and,  while 

These  laboured  nothings  in  so  strange  a  style 
Amazed  th'  unlearned,  and  made  the  learned 
smile, 

the  children  shouted  aloud  for  their  fa- 
vourite Grimaldi :  the  priests,  accompa- 
nied with  bells,  trumpets,  and  organs, 
thundered  out  the  mass  ;  the  pious  were 
loud  in  their  exclamations  of  rapture  at 
the  devotion  of  the  virgin,  and  the  whole 
church  was  filled  with  a  hoarse  and  con- 
fused murmuring  sound.  The  sequel  of 
this,  as  of  most  other  similar  representa- 
tions, was  a  hearty  dinner 


This  adoration  of  the  virgin,  so  pre- 
valent in  Romish  worship,  is  adverted  to 
in  a  beautiful  passage  of  "  DonRcderiek. 


How  calmly  gliding  through  the  dark  blue  sky 
The  midnight  moon  ascends  !     Her  placid  beams, 
Through  thinly  scattered  leaves  and  boughs  grotesque, 
Mottle  with  mazy  shades  the  orchard  slope ; 
Here,  o'er  the  chesnut's  fretted  foliage  grey 
And  massy,  motionless  they  spread  ;  here  shine 
Upon  the  crags,  deepening  with  blacker  night 
Their  chasms  ;  and  there  the  glittering  a^gentry 
Ripples  and  glances  on  the  confluent  streams. 
A  lovelier,  purer  light  than  that  of  day 
Rests  on  the  hills ;  and  oh,  how  awfully 
Into  that  deep  and  tranquil  firmament 
The  summits  of  Auseva  rise  serene  ! 
The  watchman  on  the  battlements  partake 
The  stillness  of  the  solemn  hour ;  he  feels 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  16,17,18 

The  silence  of  the  earth,  the  endless  sound 

Of  flowing  water  soothes  him,  and  the  stars, 

Which  in  that  brightest  moonlight  well  nigh  quenched, 

Scarce  visible,  as  in  the  utmost  depth 

Of  yonder  sapphire  infinite  are  seen, 

Draw  on  with  elevating  influence 

Toward  eternity  the  attempered  mind 

Musing  on  worlds  beyond  the  grave  he  stands, 

And  to  the  virgin  mother  silently 

Breathes  forth  her  hymn  of  praise. 


1096 


Southey. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  63  •  62. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  62    65. 


CHRONOLOGY 

August  16, 1678,  died  Andrew  Marvel, 
a  man  who  "  dared  be  honest  in  the  worst 
of  times."  He  was  the  son  of  a  clergyman 
at  Hull  in  Yorkshire,  where  he  was  born 
in  1620.  In  1633,  he  was  sent  to  Trinity- 
college,  Cambridge;  in  1657,  he  became 
assistant  to  Milton  in  his  office  of  Latin 
secretary  to  Cromwell ;  and  at  the  restora- 
tion he  was  chosen  to  represent  his  native 
town  in  the  house  of  commons. 

His  conduct  was  marked  by  inflexible 
adherence  to    the    principles  of  liberty, 
and  his  wit  as  a  writer  was   levelled  at 
the  corruptions  of  the  court ;  yet  Charles 
II.  courted  his  society  for  the  pleasure  of 
nis  conversation.      He  lived  in  a  mean 
Jodging  in  an  obscure  court  in  the  Strand, 
where  he  was  visited  by  lord  Danby,  at 
the  desire  of  the  king,  with  his  majesty's 
Bequest,  to  know  in  what  way  he  could 
serve  him ;  Marvel  answered,  it  was  not 
in  the  king's  power  to  serve  him.     Lord 
Danby  in  the  course  of  conversation  as- 
sured him  of  any  place  he  might  choose ; 
Marvel  replied,  he  could  not  accept  the 
offer  without  being  unjust  to  his  country 
by  betraying  its  interests,  or  ungrateful 
to  the  king  by  voting  against  him.     Before 
lord  Danby  took  leave  he  told  him  his 
majesty  had  rent  him  a  thousand  pounds 
as  a  mark  of  his  private  esteem.     Marvel 
did  not  need   the  assurance ;  he  refused 
the   money,  and    after  his   noble  visiter 
departed,  borrowed    a  guinea  which  he 
wanted  of  a  friend.     This  great  man  after 
having  served  his  constituents  for  twenty 
successive  years  in  parliament,  was  buried 
at  their  expense  in  the  church  of  St.  Giles- 
m-the-Fjelds. 


BALL  AND  CROSS  OF  ST.  PAUL'S. 
August   17,   1736,   died    Mr.   Niblet, 
master  of  the  copper  mills  at  Mitcham, 
Surrey,  renowned   in  the  "  Gentleman's 
Magazine,"  and  in  this  column,  for  having 
made  the  ball  and  cross  of  St.  Paul's  ca 
thedral,  London.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  63  '52. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

August  18,  1746,  William,  earl  of  Kil- 
marnock,  aged  forty-two,  and  Arthur, 
baron  Bal  merino,  aged  fifty-eight,  were 
beheaded  on  Tower-hill,  as  traitors,  for 
levying  war  against  king  George  II.,  in 
behalf  of  the  pretender. 

At  the  foot  of  a  flight  of  stairs  in  the 
tower,  lord  Kilmarnock  met  lord  Balme- 
rino,  and  embracing  him  said,  "  My  lord, 
I  am  heartily  sorry  to  have  your  company 
in  this  expedition."  At  the  Tower-gates, 
the  sheriffs  gave  receipts  for  their  bodies 
to  ^the  lieutenant,  who,  as  usual,  said, 
'  God  bless  king  George,"  whereon  the 
earl  of  Kilmarnock  bowed  ;  lord  Bal  me- 
rino exclaimed,  «  God  bless  king  James." 
They  were  preceded  by  the  constable  of 
the  Tower  hamlets,  the  knight-marshal's 
men,  tipstaves,  and  the  sheriff's  officers, 
the  sheriffs  walking  with  their  prisoners, 
followed  by  the  tower  warders,  and  a 
guard  of  musqueteers.  Two  hearses  and 
a  mourning  coach  terminated  the  proces- 
sion, which  passed  through  lines  of  foot 
soldiers  to  the  scaffold  on  the  south  side 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine 


K)97 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  18. 


1098 


of  the  hill,  around  which  the  guards  formed 
an  area,  and  troops  of  horse  wheeled  off, 
and  drew  up  in  their  rear  five  deep. 

The  lords  were  conducted  to  separate 
apartments  in  a  house  facing  the  scaffold, 
and  their  friends  admitted  to  see  them. 
The  rev.  Mr.  Hume,  a  near  relative  of 
the  earl  of  Hume,  with  the  rev.  Mr.  Fos- 
ter, an  amiable  dissenting  minister,  who 
never  recovered  the  dismal  effect  of  the 
scene,  assisted  the  earl  of  Kilmarnock; 
the  chaplain  of  the  tower,  and  another 
clergyman  of  the  church  of  England  ac- 
companied lord  Balmerino,  who  on  enter- 
ing the  house,  hearing  several  of  the  spec- 
tators ask,  "  which  is  lord  Bal merino  ?" 
answered  with  a  smile,  "  T  am  lord  Bal- 
merino, gentlemen,  at  your  service."  Earl 
Kilmarnock  spent  an  hour  with  Mr.  Fos- 
ter in  devotional  exercises,  and  afterwards 
had  a  conference  with  lord  Balmerino, 
who  on  their  taking  leave  said,  "  My 
dear  lord  Kilmarnock,  I  am  only  sorry 
that  I  cannot  pay  this  reckoning  alone  : 
once  more  farewell  for  ever  !" 

As  lord  Kilmarnock  proceeded  to  the 
scaffold  attended  by  his  friends,  the  mul- 
titude showed  the  deepest  signs  of  pity 
and  commiseration.  Struck  by  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  immense  assemblage,  and 
the  variety  of  dreadful  objects  on  the 
stage  of  death,  his  coffin,  the  heading- 
block,  the  axe,  and  the  executioners,  he 
turned  to  Mr.  Hume  and  said,  "  Hume ! 
this  is  terrible,"  but  his  countenance  and 
voice  were  unchanged.  The  black  baize 
over  the  rails  of  the  scaffold  was  removed, 
that  the  people  might  see  all  the  circum- 
stances of  the  execution,  and  a  single 
stroke  from  the  headsman,  separated  him 
from  the  world. 

Lord  Balmerino  in  the  mean  time 
having  solemnly  recommended  himself  to 
the  Supreme  Mercy,  conversed  cheerfully 
with  his  friends,  took  wine,  and  desired 
them  to  drink  to  him  "  ane  degree  ta 
haiven."  The  sheriff  entered  to  inform 
him  that  all  was  ready,  but  was  prevented 
by  the  lordship  inquiring  if  the  affair  was 
over  with  lord  Kilmarnock.  "  It  is,"  said 
the  sheriff.  He  then  inquired,  and  being- 
informed,  how  the  executioner  performed 
his  office,  observed,  "  It  was  well  done ;" 
turning  himself  to  the  company,  he 
said,  "  Gentlemen  I  shall  detain  you  no 
longer,"  and  saluted  them  with  unaffected 
cheerfulness.  He  mounted  the  scaffold 
with  so  easy  an  air,  as  to  astonish  the 
spectators.  No  circumstance  in  his  whole 
deportment  showed  the  least  fear  or 


regret,  and  he  frequently  reproved  his 
friends  for  discovering  either,  upon  his 
account.  He  walked  several  times  round 
the  scaffold,  bowed  to  the  people,  went 
to  his  coffin,  read  the  inscription,  and 
with  a  nod,  said  "  it  is  right ;"  he  then 
examined  the  block,  which  he  called  his 
"  pillow  of  rest."  Putting  on  his  spec- 
tacles, and  taking  a  paper  out  of  his 
pocket,  he  read  it  with  an  audible  voice, 
and  then  delivering  it  to  the  sheriff,  called 
for  the  executioner,  who  appearing,  and 
being  about  to  ask  his  lordship's  pardon, 
he  interrupted  him  with  "  Friend,  you 
need  not  ask  my  forgiveness,  the  execu- 
tion of  your  duty  is  commendable,"  and 
gave  him  three  guineas,  saying,  "Friend, 
I  never  was  rich,  this  is  all  the  money  I 
have  now,  and  I  am  sorry  I  can  add 
nothing  to  it  but  my  coat  and  waistcoat," 
which  he  then  took  off,  together  with  his 
neckcloth,  and  threw  them  on  his  coffin. 
Putting  on  a  flannel  waistcoat,  provided 
for  the  purpose,  and  taking  a  plaid  cap 
out  of  his  pocket,  he  put  it  on  his  head, 
saying  he  died  "  a  Scotchman."  He 
knelt  down  at  the  block,  to  adjust  his 
posture,  and  show  the  executioner  the 
signal  for,  the  stroke.  Once  more  turning 
to  his  friends,  and  looking  round  on  the 
crowd,  he  said,  "  Perhaps  some  may 
think  my  behaviour  too  bold,  but  re- 
member, sir,  (said  he  to  a  gentleman  who 
stood  near  him,)  that  I  now  declare  it  is 
the  effect  of  confidence  in  God,  and  a 
good  conscience,  and  I  should  dissemble 
if  I  should  show  any  signs  of  fear/' 

Observing  the  axe  in  the  executioner's 
hand  as  he  passed  him,  he  took  it  from, 
him,  felt  the  edge,  and  returning  it, 
clapped  the  executioner  on  the  shoulder 
to  encourage  him.  He  then  tucked  down 
the  collar  of  his  shirt  and  waistcoat,  and 
showed  him  where  to  strike,  desiring  him 
to  do  it  resolutely,  for  "  in  that,"  said  his 
lordship,  "  will  consist  your  kindness." 

Passing  to  the  side  of  the  stage,  he 
called  up  the  wardour,  to  whom  he  gave 
some  money,  asked  which  was  his  hearse, 
and  ordered  the  man  to  drive  near. 

Immediately,  without  trembling  or 
changing  countenance,  he  knelt  down  at 
the  block,  and  with  his  arms  stretched 
out,  said,  "  O  Lord,  reward  my  friends, 
forgive  my  enemies,  and  receive  my 
soul,"  he  gave  the  signal  by  letting  them 
fall.  His  firmness  and  intrepidity, 
and  the  unexpected  suddenness  of  the 
signal,  so  surprised  the  executioner,  that 
the  blow  was  not  given  with  strength 


.099 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  19,20. 


1100 


enough  to  wound  him  very  deep  ;  another 
blow  immediately  given  rendered  him 
insensible,  and  a  third  completed  the 
work  of  death. 


Lord  Balmerino  had  but  a  small  estate. 
His  lady  came  to  London,  and  frequently 
attended  him  during  his  confinement  in 
the  Tower.  She  was  at  dinner  with  him 
when  the  warrant  came  for  his  execution 
the  Monday  following.  Being  very  much 
shocked,  he  desired  her  not  to  be  con- 
cerned. "  If  the  king  had  given  me 
mercy,"  he  said,  "  I  should  have  been 
glad  of  it ;  but  since  it  is  otherwise,  I  am 
very  easy,  for  it  is  what  I  have  expected, 
and  therefore  it  does  not  at  all  surprise 
me."  She  was  disconsolate,  and  rose 
immediately  from  table;  on  which  he 
started  from  his  chair,  and  said,  "  Pray, 
my  lady,  sit  down,  for  it  shall  not  spoil 
my  dinner."* 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  64  •  17. 


august  19. 

EARWIGS. 

It  is  noted  in  the  "  Historical  Chro- 
nicle" of  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine," 
on  the  nineteenth  of  August,  1755,  under 
the  head,  "  Stroud,"  that  at  that  time 
there  were  such  quantities  of  earwigs  in 
that  vicinity  that  they  distroyed  not  only 
the  flowers  and  fruits,  but  the  cabbages, 
were  they  ever  so  large.  The  houses, 
especially  the  old  wooden  buildings,  were 
swarming  with  them.  The  cracks  and 
crevices  were  surprisingly  full,  they 
dropped  out  in  such  multitudes  that  the 
floors  were  covered ;  the  linen,  of  which 
they  are  very  fond,  were  likewise  full,  as 
was  also  the  furniture,  and  it  was  with 
caution  that  people  eat  their  provisions, 
for  the  cupboards  and  safes  were  plenti- 
fully stocked  with  the  disagreeable  in- 
truders. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR 
Mean  Temperature  ....  62  •  72. 

•  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


20. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On.  the  twentieth  of  August,  1589, 
James  VI.  of  Scotland  afterwards  James 
I.  of  England  married  the  princess  Anne 
of  Denmark,  daughter  to  Frederick  II. 
She  became  the  mother  of  the  ill-fated 
Charles  I. 

LOVE  TOKENS. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, — It  was  the  custom  in  England  in 
"  olden  tyme,"  as  the  ancient  chronicles 
have  it,  for  "  enamoured  maydes  and 
gentilwomen,"  to  give  to  their  favourite 
swains,  as  tokens  of  their  love,  little 
handkerchiefs  about  three  or  four  inches 
square,  wrought  round  about,  often  in 
embroidery,  with  a  button  or  tassel  a: 
each  corner,  and  a  little  one  in  the  centre. 
The  finest  of  these  favours  were  edged 
with  narrow  gold  lace,  or  twist;  and 
then,  being  folded  up  in  four  cross  folds, 
so  that  the  middle  might  be  seen,  they 
were  worn  by  the  accepted  lovers  in  their 
hats,  or  at  the  breast.  These  favours 
became  at  last  so  much  in  vogue,  that 
they  were  sold,  ready  made  in  the  shops 
in  Elizabeth's  time,  from  sixpence  to  six- 
teen-pence  a  piece.  Tokens  were  also 
given  by  the  gentlemen,  and  accepted  by 
their  fair  mistresses ;  thus  ascribed  in  an 
old  comedy  of  the  time  : — 

Given  earrings  we  will  wear 

Bracelets  of  our  lover's  hair  ; 

Which  they  on  our  arms  shall  twist 

(With  our  names  carved)  on  our  wrists. 
I  am,  &c. 

H.  M.  LANDER 
King's  Bench  Walk,  Temple, 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
AN  EVENING  WALK. 

Love  Lane. 

"  Tis  fitter  now  to  ease  the  brain, 
To  take  a  quiet  walk  in  a  green  lane. 

Byron. 

This  observation  of  our  matchless  bard, 
the  idol  and  delight  of  our  own  times, 
though  just,  few  I  fear  follow — either  from 
want  of  inclination,  or  what  is  as  bad, 
want  of  time.  But  there  are  some  whose 
hours  of  toil,  mental  and  bodily,  do  not 
preclude  them  from  seeking  the  tranquil 
haunts  of  nature.  With  me,  after 
nervous  irritability  and  mental  excite- 
ment, it  has  been,  and  is  a  favourite  en- 


1101 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  20. 


1102 


ioyment,  to  quit  the  dusky  dwellings  of 
man,  and  wander  among  the  fields  and 
green  lanes  of  our  southern  shore,  while 
the  sun  is  declining,  and  stillness  begins 
to  settle  around. 

Listlesssly  roving,  whither  I  cared  not, 
I  have  sauntered  along  till  I  felt  my  un- 
quiet sensations  gradually  subside,  and  a 
pleasing  calmness  steal  upon  me.  I 
know  of  nothing  more  annoying  than 
that  nervous  thrilling  or  trembling,  which 
runs  through  the  whole  frame  after  the 
mind  has  been  troubled  ;  it  seems  to  me 
like  the  bubbling  and  restless  swell  of 
the  ocean  after  a  storm — one  mass  of 
fretful  and  impatient  water,  knowing 
not  how  to  compose  itself.  But  to  come 
to  the  green  fields.  There  is  a  lane  leading 
from  the  grove  at  Camberwell  called 
Love-lane;  it  is  well  so  called — long, 
winding,  and  quiet,  with  scenery  around 
beautifully  soft — the  lover  might  wander 
with  the  mistress  of  his  soul  for  hours  in 
undisturbed  enjoyment.  This  lane  is 
dear  to  me,  for  with  it  is  linked  all  my 
early  associations — the  bird — the  butterfly 
— the  wild  white  rose — my  first  love. 
The  bird  is  there  still,  the  butterfly  hovers 
there,  and  the  rose  remains ;  but  where  is 
m/  first  love  ?  I  may  not  ask.  Echo  will 
but  answer,  "  where !"  yet  I  may  in 
imagination  behold  her — I  call  up  the 
shadowy  joys  of  former  times,  and  like 
the  beautiful  vision  in  "  Manfred,"  she 
stands  before  me  :— 

A  thousand  recollections  in  her  train 

Of  joy  and  sorrow,  ere  the  bit'ter  hour 

Of  separation  came,  never  again 

To  meet  in  this  wide  world  as  we  have  met, 

To  feel  as  we  have  felt,  to  look,  to  speak, 

To  think  alone  as  we  have  thought  allow' d. 

What  happy  feelings  have  been  ours 
in  that  quiet  lane !  We  have  wandered 
arm  in  arm,  gazed  on  the  scenery,  listened 
to  the  bird.  We  have  not  spoken,  but 


our  eyes  have  met,  and  thoughts  too  full 
for  utterance,  found  answers  there.  Those 
days  are  gone;  yet  I  love  to  wander  theie 
alone,  even  now  ;  to  press  the  grass  that 
has  been  pressed  by  her  feet,  to  pluck 
the  flower  from  the  hedge  where  she 
plucked  it,  to  look  on  the  distant  hills 
that  she  looked  on,  rising  in  long  smooth 
waves,  when  not  a  sound  is  heard  save  the 
"  kiss  me  dear,"  which  some  chaffinch 
is  warbling  to  his  mate,  or  the  trickling  of 
waters  seeking  their  sandy  beds  in  the 
hollows  beneath  the  hedgerows.  I 
strolled  thither  a  few  evenings  ago :  the  sun 
was  softly  sinking,  and  the  bright  crimson 
which  surrounded  him,  fading  into  a  faint 
orange,  tinged  here  and  there  with  small 
sable  clouds ;  the  night-cloud  was  ad- 
vancing slowly  darkly  on;  afar  in  the 
horizon  were 

The  light-ships  of  the  sky 
Sailing  onward  silently. 

One  bird,  the  lark,  was  singing  his 
evening  song  among  the  cool  grass;  softly, 
sweetly,  it  died  away,  and  all  was  silent 
deep  tranquillity ;  a  pleasing  coolness 
came  on  the  faint  breeze  over  the  neigh- 
bouring fields,  pregnant  with  odours, 
refreshing  as  they  were  fragrant.  It  was 
twilight;  the  green  of  the  distant  hills 
changed  to  a  greyish  hue,  their  outlines 
were  enlarged,  the  trees  assumed  a  more 
gigantic  appearance,  and  soft  dews  began 
to  ascend ;  faint  upshootings  of  light  in 
the  eastern  horizon  foretold  the  rising  of 
the  moon ;  she  appeared  at  length  above 
the  clouds,  and  a  deeper  stillness  seemed 
to  come  with  her,  as  if  nature,  like  man 
at  the  presence  of  a  lovely  women,  was 
hushed  into  silent  admiration  ;  the ,  grey 
clouds  rolled  away  on  each  side  of  her 
as  rolls  the  white  foam  of  the  ocean  before 
the  bows  of  the  vessel;  her  course  was 
begun,  and, 


*'  Silently  beautiful,  and  calmly  bright 
Along  her  azure  path  I  saw  her  glide 
Heedless  of  all  those  things  that  neath  her  light 
In  bliss  or  woe  or  pain  or  care  abide. 
Wealth,  poverty,  humility,  and  pride, 
All  are  esteemed  as  nothing  in  her  sight, 
Nor  make  her  for  one  moment  turn  aside. 
So  calm  philosophy  unmoved  pursues 
Throughout  the  busy  world  its  quiet  way  ; 
Nor  aught  that  folly  wiles  or  glory  woos, 
Can  tempt  awhile  its  notice  or  its  stay  : 
Above  all  earthly  thoughts  its  way  it  goes 
And  sinks  at  length  in  undisturbed  reposa  " 


1103 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  21,  22 


1104 


Coldly  and  calmly  the  full  orb  glided 
through  the  stillness  of  heaven.  My 
thoughts  were  of  the  past,  of  the  millions 
who  had  worshipped  her,  of  the  many  she 
had  inspired — of  Endymion,  of  the  beau- 
tiful episode  of  Nisus  and  Euryalus  in 
Virgil,  of  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,  of  the 
beautiful  descriptions  of  her  by  the  poets 
of  every  age,  of  every  clime.  The  melan- 
choly yet  pleasing  feeling  which  came  on 
me  I  can  hardly  describe :  my  disquietude 
had  ceased;  an  undisturbed  calmness 
succeeded  it ;  my  thoughts  were  weaned 
from  the  grosser  materiality  of  earth,  and 
were  soaring  upward  in  silent  adoration. 
I  felt  the  presence  of  a  divinity,  and  was 
for  a  moment  happy.  Ye  who  are  care- 
worn, whose  minds  are  restless,  go  at 
the  peaceful  hour  of  eve  to  the  green 
fields  and  the  hedge-clothed  lanes.  If  you 
are  not  poets,  you  will  feel  as  poets ;  if 
you  doubt,  you  will  be  convinced  of 
Supreme  Power  and  Infinite  Love ;  and 
be  better  in  head  and  heart  for  your 
journey. 

S.  R.  J. 


SONG. 

BY  SAMUEL  DANIEL,  1590. 

Love  is  a  sickness  full  of  woes, 

All  remedies  refusing  ; 
A  plant  that  most  with  cutting  grows, 
Most  barren  with  best  using. 

Why  so  ? 

More  we  enjoy  it,  more  it  dies, 
If  not  enjoyed  it  sighing  cries 
Heigh  ho  ! 

Love  is  a  torment  of  the  mind, 

A  tempest  everlasting  ; 
And  Jove  hath  made  it  of  a  kind 
Not  well,  nor  full,  nor  fasting. 

Why  so? 

More  we  enjoy  it,  more  it  dies, 
If  not  enjoyed  it  sighing  cries 
Heigh  ho!* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  92. 


21. 


MERLIN'S  CAVE,  AND  STEPHEN  DUCK. 
We  are  told  on  the  thirtieth  of  June,l  735, 
that  her  majesty  (the  queen  of  George  II.) 
ordered  "  Mr.  Rysbrack  to  make  the 
bustos  in  marble  of  all  the  kings  of  Eng- 
land from  William  the  Conqueror,  in 

*  Communicated  by  0.  T. 


order  to  be  placed  in  her  new  building  in 
the  gardens  at  Richmond." 

On  the  twenty-first  of  August,  in  the 
same  year,  we  learn  that  the  figures  her 
majesty  had  ordered  for  Merlin's  cave 
were  placed  therein,  viz.  1. — Merlin  at  a 
table  with  conjuring  books  and  mathema- 
tical instruments,  taken  from  the  face  of 
Mr.  Ernest,  page  to  the  prince  of  Wales ; 
2. — King  Henry  Vllth's  queen,  and  3 — 
Queen  Elizabeth,  who  come  to  Merlin 
for  knowledge,  the  former  from  the  face 
of  Mrs.  Margaret  Purcell,  and  the  latter 
from  Miss  Paget's;  4. — Minerva  from 
Mrs.  Poyntz's;  5. — Merlin's  secretary, 
from  Mr.  Kemp's,  one  of  his  royal  high- 
ness the  duke's  grenadiers;  and  6. — a 
witch,  from  a  tradesman's  wife  at  Rich- 
mond. Her  majesty  ordered  also  a  choice 
collection  of  English  books  to  be  placed 
therein;  and  appointed  Mr.  Stephen 
Duck  to  be  cave  and  library  keeper,  and 
his  wife  to  an  office  of  trust  and  employ- 
ment.* 

Stephen  Duck  was  a  versifying  thrasher, 
whom  she  got  appointed  a  yeoman  of  the 
guard,  and  afterwards  obtained  orders  for, 
and  the  living  of  Byfleet,  in  Surrey.  The 
poor  fellow  sought  happiness  at  the  wrong 
end,  and  drowned  himself  in  1766. 

Contentment,  rosy,  dimpled  maid, 
Thou  brightest,  daughter  of  the  sky, 

Why  dost  thou  to  the  hut  repair, 
And  from  the  gilded  palace  fly? 

I've  trac'd  thee  on  the  peasant's  cheek ; 

I've  mark'd  thee  in  the  milkmaid's  smile  ; 
I've  heard  thee  loudly  laugh  and  speak, 

Amid  the  sons  of  want  and  toil. 

Yet,  in  the  circles  of  the  great, 
.  Where  fortune's  gifts  are  all  combined, 
I've  sought  thee  early,  sought  thee  late, 

And  ne'er  thy  lovely  form  could  find. 
Since  then  from  wealth  and  pomp  you  flee, 
I  ask  but  competence  and  thee ! 

Lady  Manner*. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  65 

22. 

BATTLE  OF  BOSWORTH. 

This  is  the  anniversary  of  the  memora- 
ble conflict  wherein  Richard  III.  lost  his 
life  and  crown. 

*  Gentleman'i  Magazine. 


1105 


THE  EVEIIY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  22 


Urns 


For  the  Every- Day  Book. 
The  well  of  which  the  above  is  a  repre- 
sentation, is  situate  on  the  spot  where  the 
celebrated  battle  of  Bosworth  field  was 
fought,  by  which,  the  long-existing  ani- 
mosities between  the  rival  houses  of  York 
and  Lancaster  were  finally  closed.  The 
king  is  said,  during  the  heat  of  the  en- 
gagement, to  have  refreshed  himself  with 
water  from  this  spring.  A  few  years  ago 
a  subscription  was  entered  into,  for  the 
purpose  of  erecting  some  memorial  of  this 
circumstance,  and  the  late  learned  Dr. 
Parr  being  applied  to,  furnished  an  in- 
scription, of  which  the  following  is  a 
copy. 

AQVA  .  EX  .  HOC  .  PVTEO  .  HAVSTA 

SIT1M  .  SEDAVIT 

EICARDVS  .  TERTIVS  .  REX  .  ANOLIAE 

CVM  .  HENRICO  .  COMITE  .  DE.RJCHMONDIA 

ACERRIME  .  ATQVE  .  INFENSISSIME 

PRAELIANS 
ET  . VITA  . PARITER  . AC . SCEPTBO 

AVTE  .  NOCTEM  .  CARITVRVS 
XI  KAL  .  SEPT.  A.  D.  MCCCCLXXXV. 

TRANSLATION. 

Richard  the  IIL  King  of  England, 
most  eagerly  and  hotly  contending  with 
Henry,  Earl  of  Richmond,  and  about  to 
lose  before  night  both  his  sceptre  and  his 
life,  quenched  his  thirst  with  water  drawn 
from  this  well. — August  22,  1485. 

The  Roman  month  was  divided  into 
kalends,  nones,  and  ides,  all  of  which  were 


reckoned  backwards.  The  kalends  are  the 
first  day  of  the  month. — Thus  the  first 
of  September  being  the  kalends  of  Sep- 
tember, the  thirty-first  of  August  would  be 
pridie  kalendarum,  or  the  second  of  the 
kalends  of  September  ;  the  thirtieth  of  Au- 
gust would  then  be  the  third  of  the  ka- 
lends of  September.  Pursuing  this  train 
the  twenty-second  of  August,  and  the  xi 
of  the  kalends  of  September  will  be  found 
to  correspond. 

The  battle  of  Bosworth  field  was  fought 
on  the  twenty-second  of  August,  1485, 
"  on  a  large  flat  spacious  ground,"  says 
Burton,  "three  miles  distant  from  this 
town."  Richmond,  afterwards  Henry  VII., 
landed  at  Milfoid-haven  on  the  sixth  of 
August,  and  arrived  at  Tamworth  on  the 
eighteenth.  On  the  nineteenth  he  had  an 
interview  with  his  father-in-law,  lord 
Stanley,  when  measures  were  converted 
for  their  further  operations.  On  the  twen- 
tieth,he  encamped  at  Atherstone,and  on  the 
twenty-first,  both  armies  were  in  sight  of 
each  other  the  whole  day.  Richard  enter- 
ed Leicester  with  his  army  on  the  six- 
teenth, having  the  royal  crown  on  his 
head;  he  slept  at  Elmesthorpe  on  the 
night  of  the  seventeenth.  On  the  eighteenth 
he  arrived  at  Stapleton, where  he  continued 
till  Sunday  the  twenty-first.  The  number 
of  his  forces  exceeded  sixteen  thousand — 
those  of  Richmond  did  not  amount  to 
five  thousand.  On  each  side  the  leader  ad- 
dressed his  troops  with  a  splendid  oration 


1107 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  22. 


1108 


which  was  scarcely  finished"  says  an  old  his- 
torian, "but  the  one  army  espied  the  other. 
Lord !  how  hastily  the  soldiers  buckled 
their  helms !  how  quickly  the  archers  bent 
their  bows  and  brushed  their  feathers ! 
how  readily  the  billmen  shook  their  bills 
and  proved  their  staves,  ready  to  approach 
and  join  when  the  terrible  trumpet  should 
sound  the  bloody  blast  to  victory  or 
death  !"  The  first  conflict  of  the  archers 
being  over,  the  armies  met  fiercely  with 
sword  and  bills,  and  at  this  period  Rich- 
mond was  joined  by  lord  Stanley,  which 
determined  the  fortune  of  the  day. 

In  this  battle,  which  lasted  little  more 
than  two  hours,  above  one  thousand  per- 
sons were  slain  on  the  side  of  Richard.  Of 
Richmond's  army,  scarcely  one  hundred 
were  killed,  amongst  whom,  the  principal 
person  was  sir  William  Brandon,  his  stand- 
ard bearer.  Richard  is  thought  to  have  des- 
pised his  enemy  too  much,  and  to  have  been 
too  dilatory  in  his  motions.  He  is  univer- 
sally allowed  to  have  performed  prodigies 
of  valour,  and  is  said  to  have  fallen  at  last 
by  treachery,  in  consequence  of  a  blow 
from  one  of  his  followers.  His  body  was 
thrown  across  a  horse,  and  carried,  for 
interment,  to  the  Greyfriars  at  Leicester. 
He  was  the  only  English  monarch,  since 
the  conquest,  that  fell  in  battle,  and  the 
second  who  fought  in  his  crown.  Henry 
V.  appeared  in  his  at  Agincourt,  which 
was  the  means  of  saving  his  life,  (though, 
probably,  it  might  provoke  the  attack,)  by 
sustaining  a  stroke  with  a  battle-axe, 
which  cleft  it.  Richard's  falling  off  in 
the  engagement,  was  taken  up  and  se- 
creted in  a  bush,  where  it  was  discovered 
by  sir  Reginald  Bray  and  placed  upon 
Henry's  head.  Hence  arises  the  device 
of  a  crown  in  a  hawthorn  bush,  at  each 
end  of  Henry's  tomb  in  Westminster- 
abbey. 

In  1644,  Bosworth  field  became  again 
the  scene  of  warfare ;  an  engagement,  or 
rather  skirmish,  taking  place  between  the 
parliamentary  and  royal  forces,  in  which 
the  former  were  victorious  without  the 
loss  of  a  single  individual. 

G.  J. 

The  late  Mr.  William  Hutton,  the  his- 
torian of  Birmingham,  wrote  an  account 
of  "The  Battle  of  Bosworth  Field," 
which  Mr.  Nichols  published,  and  subse- 
quently edited  with  considerable  addi- 
tions. Mr.  Hutton  apprehended  that  the 
famous  well  where  Richard  slaked  his 
thirst  would  sink  into  oblivion.  A  letter 


from  Dr.  Parr  to  Mr.  Nichols,  dated 
Hatton,  September  13,  1813,  removes 
these  apprehensions  : — 

"  As  to  Bosworth  Field,  six  or  seven 
years  ago  I  explored  it,  tmd  I  found 
Dick's  Well,  out  of  which  the  tradition  is 
that  Richard  drank  during  the  battle,  it 
was  in  dirty,  mossy  ground,  and  seemed 
to  me  in  danger  of  being  destroyed  by  the 
cattle.  I  therefore  bestirred  myself  to 
have  it  preserved,  and  to  ascertain  the 
owner.  The  bishop  of  Down  spoke  to 
the  archbishop  of  Armagh,  who  said  that 
the  ground  was  not  his.  I  then  found 
it  not  to  be  Mrs.  Pochin's.  Last  year  I 
traced  it  to  a  person  to  whom  it  had  been 
bequeathed  by  Dr.  Taylor,  formerly  rector 
of  Bosworth.  I  went  to  the  spot,  accom- 
panied by  the  rev.  Mr.  Lynes,  of  Kirkby- 
Malory.  The  grounds  had  been  drained. 
We  dug  in  two  or  three  places  without 
effect.  I  then  applied  to  a  neighbouring 
farmer,  a  good  intelligent  fellow.  He 
told  me  his  family  had  drawn  water  from 
it  for  six  or  seven  years,  and  that  he 
would  conduct  me  to  the  very  place.  I 
desired  him  to  describe  the  signs.  He 
said  there  were  some  large  stones,  and 
some  square  wood,  which  went  round  the 
well  at  the  top.  We  dug,  and  found 
things  as  he  had  described  them;  and, 
having  ascertained  the  very  spot,  we 
rolled  in  the  stones,  and  covered  them 
with  earth.  Now  lord  Wentworth,  and 
some  other  gentlemen,  mean  to  fence  the 
place  with  some  strong  stones,  and  to 
put  a  large  stone  over  it  with  the  follow- 
ing inscription ;  and  you  may  tell  the 
story  if  you  please. 

«  Yours,  &c. 

«  S.  PARR." 


The  inscription  is  given  in  the  preced- 
ing notice  of  the  battle  of  Bosworth  by 
G.  J.,  who  likewise  obligingly  transmitted 
the  drawing  of  the  well  in  its  present 
state. 

The  editor  is  highly  favoured  by  the 
interesting  communication  from  a  gentle- 
man profoundly  erudite  in  genealogica. 
lore. 

For  the  Ev try-Day  Book. 

The  ravages  inflicted  by  the  all-subdu 
ing  hand  of  time  are  not  more  distinctly 
traceable  in  the  deserted  hall  of  the  dis- 
mantled castle,  and  the  moulding  fane  of 
the  dilapidated  abbey,  than  in  the  down- 
fall or  extinction  of  ancient  and  distin- 
guished ••aces  of  nobility,  who  m  ages 


1109 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  23. 


1110 


long  past  by  have  shook  the  senate  and 
field,  have  scattered  plenty  o'er  a  smiling 
land,  or,  as  alas!  is  too  frequently  the 
melancholy  reverse,  shut  the  gates  of 
mercy  on  mankind, 

Considerations  of  this  nature  have 
suggested  a  review  of  the  few  families 
remaining  in  our  peerage,  whose  ancestors 
enjoyed  that  distinction. 

"  Ere  yet  the  fell  Plantagenets  had  spent 
Their  antient  rage  oa  Bosworth's  purple  field." 

The  protracted  duration  and  alternated 
reverses  of  the  contest  between  the  houses 
of  Lancaster  and  York,  added  to  the  ran- 
corous inveteracy  indispensably  inherent 
in  a  barbarous  age,  will  account  for  the 
comparatively  rare  sprinkling  of  the  im- 
mediate descendants  of  the  followers  and 
councillors  of  the  Plantagenets  in  our 
present  house  of  peers.  In  France,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  contemporary  struggle 
for  the  throne  laid  between  an  indisputed 
native  prince,  Charles  VII.  and  a  foreign 
competitor,  our  Henry  VI.  The  cour- 
tesies of  war  (imperfect  even  as  they 
existed  in  those  days)  were  allowed  fairer 
play,  and  those  who  escaped  the  immedi- 
ate edge  of  the  foeman's  sword  were  not 
handed  over  to  the  axe  of  the  executioner. 

The  awful  mortality  which  befell  one 
eminent  branch  of  our  gallant  Plantage- 
nets at  the  period  in  question,  is  recorded 
in  emphatic  terms  by  their  animated  and 
faithful  chronicler,  Shakspeare: — 

"  Two  of  thy  name,  both  dukes  of  Somerset, 
Have  sold  their  lives  unto  the  house  of  York, 
And  thou  shall  be  the  third,  if  this  sword  hold." 

List  of  English  Peerages  now  existing 
on  the  Roll,  of  which  the  Date  of  Creation 
if  prior  to  the  Accession  of  Henry  PIL 

Duke  of  Norfolk. 

Duke  of  Beaufort,  as  Baron  de  Bote- 
tourt. 

Marquis  Townshend,  as  Baron  de 
Ferrars. 

Marquis  of  Hastings,  as  Baron  Hast- 
ings. 

Earl  of  Shrewsbury. 

Earl  of  Berkeley,  as  Baron  Berkeley. 

Earl  Delawarr,  as  Baron  Delawarr  and 
West. 

Earl  of  Abergavenny,  as  Baron  Aber- 
gavenny. 

Baroness  de  Roos. 

Baron  Le  Despencer 

Baron  de  Clifford. 

Baron  Audley. 


Baron  Clinton. 
Baron  Dacre. 
Baron  de  la  Zouche. 
Baroness  Willoughby  d'Eresby. 
Baroness  Grey  de  Ruthyn. 
Baron  Stourton. 

List  of  Families  now  invested  with  tlu 
Dignity  of  Peerage,  whose  Ancestors  in 
the  Male  Line,  enjoyed  the  Peerage  be- 
fore the  Accession  of  Henry  VII. 

Where  a  well-grounded  doubt  exists, 
an  asterisk  is  prefixed  to  the  name. 
Howard 

*  Spencer 

*  Montagu 
Clinton 
Talbot 
Stanley 
Hastings 
Grey 
Berkeley 
Windsor 
Lumley 
West 
Neville 
Devereux 
Courtenay 
Stourton 
Clifford 
Willoughby 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  62  •  50. 


23. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

August  23,  1305,  sir  William  Wallace, 
"  the  peerless  knight  of  Elleslie,"  who 
bravely  defended  Scotland  against  Ed- 
ward I.  was  executed  by  order  of  that 
monarch  on  Tower-hill.  This  distin- 
guished individual  is  popular  in  England 
five  hundred  years  after  his  death,  through 
the  well-known  ballad 

«  Scots  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled,"  &c. 


.;.,,,         THE  SEASON. 

Swallows  are  now  preparing  for  their 
departure.  On  this  day,  in  1826,  the 
editor  observed  hundreds  of  them  collecting 
so  high  in  the  air  that  they  seemed  of  the 
size  of  flies;  they  remained  wheeling 
about  and  increasing  in  number  upwardi 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  23. 


1112 


of  an  hour  before  dusk,  when  they  all 
look  their  flight  in  a  south-western  direc- 
tion. 


CHELDONIZING,  OR  SWALLOW  SINGING. 
To  the  Editor  oj  the  Every-Day  Booh 

Sir, — The  recent,  and  it  is  hoped  still 
continued  subscriptions  in  aid  of  suffering 
humanity,  induce  an  observation,  that  to 
the  very  remote  origin  of  collecting  general 
alms,  may  be  traced  most  of  the  mumme- 
ries practised  in  Christendom  in  the  gothic 
centuries,  and  in  the  English  counties, 
even  till  within  our  own  memory.  Among 
the  Rhodians  one  method  of  soliciting 
eleemosynary  gifts,  called  cheldonizing,  or 
swallow-singing,  is  corroboratory  of  the 
assertion.  This  benevolence,  or  voluntary 
contribution,  was  instituted  by  Cleobulus 
of  Lindos,  at  a  time  when  public  necessity 
drove  the  Lindians  to  the  expedient  of 
soliciting  a  general  subscription.  Theog- 
nis  speaks  of  cheldonizing  as  taking 
place  among  the  sacred  rites  practised  at 
Rhodes  in  the  month  Boedromion,  or 
August,  and  deriving  its  name  from  the 
customary  song: — 

The  swallow,  the  swallow  is  here, 

With  his  back  so  black,  and  his  belly  so 

white ; 
He  brings  on  the  pride  of  the  year, 

With  the  gay  months  of  love  and  the  days 
of  delight. 

Come,  bring  out  the  good  humming  stuff, 
Of  your  nice  tit-bits  let  the  swallow  par- 
take, 

Of  good  bread  and  cheese  give  enough, 
And  a  slice  of  your  right  Boedromion  cake. 

Our  hunger,  our  hunger  it  twinges, 
So  give  my  good  masters,  I  pray  ; 

Or  we'll  pull  off  your  door  from  its  hinges, 
And,  ecod  !  we'll  steal  young  madam  away. 

She's  a  nice  little  pocket-piece  darling, 

And  faith  'twill  be  easy  to  carry  her  hence ; 

Away  with  old  prudence  so  snarling, 

And  toss  us  down  freely  a  handful  of  pence. 

Come,  let  us  partake  of  your  cheer, 

And  loosen  your  purse  strings  so  nearty ; 

No  crafty  old  grey  beards  are  here, 
And  see  we're  a  merry  boy's  party, 

And  the  swallow,  the  swallow  is  here  ! 

Plutarch  refers  to  another  Rhodian 
custom,  which  is  particularly  mentioned 
by  Phoenix  of  Colophon,  a  writer  of  iam- 


bics, who  describes  the  practice  beiitf 
that  of  certain  men  going  about  to  collecj 
donations  for  the  crow,  and  singing  01 
saying — 

My  good,  worthy  masters,  a  pittance  bestow, 
Some  oatmeal,  or  barley,  or  wheat,  for  the 

crow ; 

A  loaf  or  a  penny,  or  e'en  w  hat  you  will, 
As  fortune  your  pockets  may  happen  to  fill. 

From  the  poor  man  a  grain  of  his  salt  may 

suffice, 
For  your  crow  swallows  all,  and  is  not  very 

nice ; 
And  the  man  who  can  now   give  his  grain 

and  no  more, 
May  another  day  give  from  a  plentiful  store. 

Come,  my  lad,  to  the  door,  Plutus  nods  to  our 

wish, 
And  our  sweet  little  mistress  comes  out  with 

a  dish ; 

She  gives  us  her  figs,  and  she  gives  us  a  smile, 
Heaven  bless  her,  and  guard  her  from  sorrow 

and  guile  ; 

And  send  her  a  husband  of  noble  degree, 
And  a  boy  to  be  danc'd  on  his  grand-daddy's 

knee; 
And  a  girl  like   herself  to  rejoice  her  good 

mother, 
Who  may  one  day  present  her  with  just  such 

another. 

God  bless  your  dear  hearts  all  a  thousand  times 

o'er! 

Thus  we  carry  our  singing  to  door  after  door; 
Alternately  chanting,  we  ramble  along, 
And  treat  all  who  give,  or  give  not,  a  song. 

The  song  thus  concludes — 

My  good,  worthy  masters,  a  pittance  bestow, 
Your  bounty,   my   good,   worthy   mistresses 

throw ; 

Remember  the  crow,  he  is  not  very  nice, 
Do  but  give  as  you  can,  and  the   gift  wilf 

suffice. 

Pamphilius  of  Alexandria,  in  his  chap- 
ter on  names,  says  these  men  making 
collections  for  the  crow,  were  called  coro- 
nistae,  or  crow-mummers ;  and  their  songs 
were  named  coronismata,  as  Hagnooles, 
the  Rhodian,  relates  in  his  work,  entitled 
"  Coronistse." 

I  am,  &c. 

J.  H.  B. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  62  •  92. 


1113 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  24. 


1114 


august  24. 

ST.  BARTHOLOMEW. 
For  St.  Bartholomew,  see  vol.  i.  col. 
1131. 

MASSACRE  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW 
This  horrible  slaughter  is  noticed  in  the 


of  the  sea  with  two  horns  in  his  head  and 
chased  her,  roaring  and  gaping  all  the 
way  at  her  heels,  and  she  was  sure  it  was 
not  far  off."  A  man  called  Wills  Tom,  an 
old  schoolmaster,  said  if  he  could  see  it 
he  would  "  cunger  the  diel,"  and  got  a 
bible  and  an  old  sword.  The  pig  im- 
mediately started  behind  his  back  with  a 


from  the  field  half  dead. 

The  whole  crowd  ran  some  one  way 
and    some   another;    some    reached   the 


particulars  of  the  p 

persons     massacred,    and    the    different 
accounts  of  historians,  the  reader  is  refer- 
red to  a  most  able  article  in  the  «  Edin-    h  and  others  ghut  themselves  in 
burgh  Review,  June,  1826     on  the  extra-                  g  .  {      ^       ^  fa 
ordinary  misrepresentations  ot  the  event 
and   its   perpetrators   in    Mr.   Lingard's 
"  History  of  England." 


Gudeman  Q, 


A  RESIDENT  IN  THE  FLEET. 
On  the  twenty-fourth  of  August,  1736,  a 
remarkably  fat  boar  was  taken  up  in  com- 
ing out  of  Fleet  Ditch  into  the  Thames : 
it  proved  to  be  a  butcher's,  near  Smith- 
field-bars,  who  had  missed  him  five 
months,  all  which  time,  it  seems,  he  had 
been  in  the  common  sewer,  and  was  im- 
proved in  price  from  ten  shillings  to  two 
guineas.* 

THE  FIRST  PIGS  IN  SCOTLAND. 

Within  the  last  century  (probably  about 
1720)  a  person  in  the  parish  of  Ruth  well, 
in  Dumfriesshire,  called  the  "  Gudeman 
o'  the  Brow,''  received  a  young  swine  as 
a  present  from  some  distant  part ;  which 
seems  to  have  been  the  first  ever  seen  in 
that  part  of  the  country.   This  pig  having 
strayed  across  the  Lochar  into  the  adjoin- 
ing parish  of  Carlavroc,  a  woman  who 
was  herding  cattle  on  the  marsh,  by  the 
sea  side,  was  very  much  alarmed  at  the 
sight  of  a  living  creature,  that  she  had 
never  seen  or  heard  of  before,  approach- 
ing her  straight  from  the  shore  as  if  it  had 
come  out  of  the  sea,  and  ran  home  to  the 
village  of  Blackshaw  screaming.     As  she 
ran,  the  pig  ran  snorking  and  grunting 
after  her,  seeming  glad  that  it  had  met 
with  a  companion.     She  arrived  at  the 
village  so   exhausted  and  terrified,    that 
before  she  could  get  her  story  told  she 
fainted  away.     By  the  time  she  came  to 
herself,  a  crowd  of  people  had  collected 
to  see  what  was  the  matter,  when  she  told 
them,  that  "  There  was  a  diel  came  out 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


top  called 

the  Brow's  grumphy,"  he  having  seen  it 
before.  Thus  the  affray  was  settled,  and 
the  people  reconciled,  although  some 
still  entertained  frightful  thoughts  about 
it,  and  durst  not  go  over  the  door  to  a 
neighbour's  house  after  dark  without  one 
to  set  or  cry  them.  One  of  the  crowd 
who  had  some  compassion  on  the  crea- 
ture, called  out,  "  give  it  a  tork  of  straw 
to  eat,  it  will  be  hungry." 

Next  day  the  pig  was  conveyed  over 
the  Lochar,  and  on  its  way  home,  near 
the  dusk  of  evening,  it  came  grunting  up 
to  two  men  who  were  pulling  thistles  on 
the  farm  of  Cockpool.     Alarmed  at  the 
sight,  they  mounted  two  old  horses  they 
had  tethered  beside  them,  intending  to 
make  their  way  home,  but  the  pig  getting 
between   them    and   the   houses,   caused 
them  to  scamper  out  of  the  way  and  land 
in  Lochar  moss,  where  one  of  their  horses 
was  drowned,  and  the  other  with  difficulty 
relieved.  The  night  being  dark,  they  dur.st 
not  part  one  from  the  other  to  call  for  as- 
sistance, lest  the  monster  should  find  them 
out  and   attack  them   singly ;  nor  durst 
they  speak   above  their  breath  for  fear  of 
being  devoured.  At  day-break  next  morn- 
ing they  took  a  different  course,  by  Cum- 
longon  castle,  and  made  their  way  home, 
where   they    found  their   families   much 
alarmed  on  account  of  their  absence.  They 
said  that  they  had  seen  a  creature  about 
the  size  of  a  dog,  with  two  horns  on  its 
head,  and  cloven  feet,  roaring  out  like  a 
lion,  and  if  they  had  not  galloped  away, 
it  would  have  torn  them  to  pieces.     One 
of  their  wives  said,  "  Hout  man,  it  has 
been  the  Gudeman  of  the  Brow's  grum- 
phy ;  it  frightened  them  a'  at  the  Black- 
shaw yesterday,  and  poor  Meggie  Ander- 
son maist  lost  her  wits,  and  is  ay  out  o 
ae  fit  into  anither  sin-syne/' 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  25. 


'.116 


The  pig  happened  to  lay  all  night 
among  the  com  where  the  men  were  pul- 
ling thistles,  and  about  day-break  set  for- 
ward on  its  journey  for  the  Brow.  One 
Gabriel  Gunion,  mounted  on  a  long- 
tailed  grey  colt,  with  a  load  of  white  fish 
in  a  pair  of  creels  swung  over  the  beast, 
encountered  the  pig,  which  went  nigh 
among  the  horse's  feet  and  gave  a  snork 
The  colt,  being  as  much  frightened  as 
Gabriel,  wheeled  about  and  scampered 
off  sneering,  with  his  tail  on  his  "  riggin," 
at  full  gallop.  Gabriel  cut  the  slings  and 
dropt  the  creels,  the  colt  soon  dismounted 
his  rider,  and  going  like  the  wind,  with 
his  tail  up,  never  stopped  till  he  came  to 
Barnkirk  point,  where  he  took  the  Solway 
Frith  and  landed  at  Bownes,  on  the  Cum- 
berland side.  Gabriel,  by  the  time  he 
got  up,  saw  the  pig  within  sight,  took  to 
his  heels,  as  the  colt  was  quite  gone,  and 
reached  Cumlongon  wood  in  time  to  bide 
himself,  where  he  staid  all  that  day  and 
night,  and  next  morning  got  home  almost 
exhausted.  He  told  a  dreadful  story! 
The  fright  caused  him  to  imagine  the  pig 
as  big  as  a  calf,  having  long  horns,  eyes 
like  trenchers,  and  a  back  like  a  hedge- 
hog. He  lost  his  fish;  the  colt  was  got 
back,  but  never  did  more  good;  and 
Gabriel  fell  into  a  consumption,  and  died 
about  a  year  afterwards. 

About  the  same  time  a  vessel  came  to 
Glencaple  quay,  a  little  below  Dumfries, 
that  had  some  swine  on  board ;  one  of 
having  got  out  of  the  vessel  in  the 
on  the  farm  of  Newmains 
The  alarm  was  spread, 
and  a  number  of  people  collected.  The 
animal  got  many  different  names,  and  at 
last  it  was  concluded  to  be  a  "brock" 
(a  badger).  Some  got  pitchforks,  some 
dobs,  and  others  old  swords,  and  a  hot 
the  chase  lasted  a  con- 
to  the  pursuers  los- 
near  their  prey  and  re- 
treating. One  Robs  Geordy  having  rather 
a  little  more  courage  than  the  rest,  ran 
"neck  or  nothing,"  fbrtibry  upon  the 
animal,  and  ran  it  through  with  a  pitch- 
fork, for  which  be  got  the  name  of  «  stoat 
hearted  Geordy  "  all  his  life  after.  A  man, 
nearly  a  hundred  years  of  age,  who  was 
alive  in  1814,  m  the  neighbourhood  where 

bered  fig  CMniM  of  the  BjQwV^ 

said  it  was  the  fast  swine  ever  seen  in 


NATL-RALISTS'    CALENDAR, 

Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  80. 


25. 

ISLINGTON  CATTLE  MARKET. 

August  25,  1746,  a  distemper  which 
arose  among  the  horned  cattle,  broks  out 
afresh  in  the  parts  adjacent  to  London, 
and  "  the  fair  for  the  sale  of  Welsh  cattle 
near  Islington  was  kept  at  Barnet."  * 

IMPORTANT  TO  HOUSEKEEPERS. 

The  following  letter  from  a  lady  claims 
the  attention  of  every  good  housewife  at 
this  particular  season. 

BLACKBERRY  JAM. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Etery-Day  Book. 
Westbvry,  WllUhire,  Aug.  15,  1826, 

Sir, — The  importance  that  I  attach  to 
the  above  tweet  subject, — the  uses  of  "  a 
yxaC  even  may  be  important, — induces  me 
to  offer  you  the  option  of  republishing  a 
few  lines  on  the  occasion,  which  first  ap- 
peared in  a  very  condensed  form  last 
autumn,  in  the  "  Examiner"  newspaper. 
I  am  anxious  to  obtain  further  celebrity, 
and  a  "wider  circulation  of  the  merits 
which  this  wholesome  dainty  justly  lay 
claim,  and  the  success  that  attended  my 
former  little  notice  of  it,  encourage  me 
to  persevere ;  for  I  was  informed  that  after 
the  publication  alluded  to,  the  "  Herald" 
copied  it,  and  that  subsequently  it  was 
cried  in  the  streets  of  your  dingy  metro- 
polis. 

I  can  only  judge  of  the  prevailing 
quantity  of  the  kindly  blackberry,  by  the 
vast  profusion  that  enriches  our  woody 
vales,  where  nature  seems  resolved  to 
solace  herself  for  the  restrictions  to  which 
she  has  been  confined  by  the  dreary 
downs  that  skirt  oar  beautiful  vicinity ; 
and  where  Faktaff  must  surely  have  ori- 
ginated his  happy  expression  of  "  reasons 
being  plenty  as  blackberries  P  Bat  I  am 
keeping  you  fco  long  from  the  subject 
The  method  cf  preparing  die  delicate 
conserve  that  forms  so  large  a  portion  of 
my  children's  favourite  cdjruncttue  ali- 
ment, is  so  simple,  that  it  can  be  achieved 
by  the  merest  novice  in  the  we  depart- 
of  u  domestic  Management." 


1117 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  25. 


1118 


Boil  the  blackberries  with  half  their 
weight  of  coarse  moist  sugar  for  three 
quarters  of  an  hour,*  keeping  the  mass 
stirred  constantly.  It  is  a  mistake  to  sup- 
pose that  a  stewpan  is  a  necessary  vehicle 
on  the  occasion;  the  commonest  tin 
saucepan  will  answer  the  purpose  equally 
well.  The  more  luxurious  preserves 
being  made  with  tr/it/e  sugar,  and  that 
ot  equal  weight  with  the  fruit,  are  neces- 
sarily unwholesome;  but  the  cheapness 
of  this  homely  delicacy,  besides  its  sana- 
tive properties  renders  it  peculiarly  desir- 
able for  scantily  furnished  tables.  It  has 
been  a  "  staple  commodity"  in  my  family 
for  some  years  past,  and  with  the  excep- 
tion of  treacle,  I  find  it  the  most  useful 
aliment  in  "  regulating  the  bowels"  of  my 
children  ; — you  as  a  "  family  man,"  sir, 
will  excuse,  nay,  appreciate  the  observa- 
tion, and  all  your  readers  who  have 
"  their  quivers  fall  of  them,"  will  not  dis- 
dain the  gratis  prescription  that  shall 
supersede  the  guinea  fee  !  Indeed,  to 
the  sparing  use  of  butter,  and  a  liberal 
indulgence  in  treacle  and  blackberry  jam, 
I  mainly  attribute  the  extraordinary 
health  of  my  young  family.  The  prodigal 
use,  or  rather  the  abuse,  of  butter  that 
pervades  all  classes,  has  often  surprised 
me:  the  very  cottage  children,  whose 
tattered  apparel  bespeaks  abject  poverty, 
I  continually  meet  munching  their 
" hunks'  of  bread,  smeared  with  butter ; 
how  much  should  I  rejoice  to  see,  because 
I  knou-  its  superiority  in  every  respect,  my 
favourite  jam  substituted  !  But  cottage 
children  are  tar  from  being  objects  of  my 
compassion,  for  they  live  in  the  "  coun- 
try," which  comprehensive  word  conveys 
delicious  ideas  of  sun,  fresh  air,  exercise, 
flowers,  shady  trees,  and  this  wholesome 
fruit  clustering  about  them,  and  inviting 
their  chubby  fingers  at  every  healthful 
step.  My  pity  is  reserved  for  their  for- 
lorn little  brethren,  doomed  to  breathe 
the  unwholesome  atmosphere  of  crowded 
manufactories,  and  close  narrow  alleys  in 
populous  cities  !  What  a  luxury  would  a 
supper  be  twice  a  week,  for  instance,  to 
the  poor  little  «*  bottoms "  in  Spital- 
holds. f  Who  knows  but  they  might  re- 


•  If  the  berries  be  gathered  in  wet  weather,  an 
hour  will  not  be  too  long  a  time  to  boil  them. 

t  I  hare  heard  of  the  distress  among  the  weavers, 
and  nr»Tcn  forbid  that  I  should  speak  lightly  of  their 
calamities  !— But  eat  they  MM*,  and  rut  tkry  <to ;  and 
if  reduced  to  Am*  «o  c*H«l,  butter,  or  cheese,  » 
included)  it  is  this  I  regret,  fur  jam  would  be  cheaper 
a*  weH  as  more  wholesome,  and  should  be  purchased 
»t  the  shops  as  other  artic!e*  of  onsumption  ate. 


ceive  their  first  taste  for  Shakspeare  while 
being  fed,  like  jfceir  great  prototype  in  the 
44  MidsummerTught's  Dream,"  with 
blackberries  !  "  Dewberries"  which  Ti- 
tania  ordered  for  the  refreshment  of  her 
favourite,  are  so  nearly  allied  to  their 
glossy  neighbours,  that  when  the  season 
is  far  advanced  the  two  are  not  easily  dis- 
tinguished. Shakspeare,  who  knew  every 
thing,  was  of  course  aware  that  the  dew- 
berry ripens  earlier  than  the  blackberry ; 
namely,  in  the  season  for  "  apricots."  It 
must  be  confessed  that  nothing  but  the 
associations  that  are  connected  with  the 
elegant  and  romantic  name  "  dewberry," 
fit  only  for  the  mouth  of  a  fairy  to  pro- 
nounce, could  induce  me  to  give  a  pre- 
ference to  the  latter ;  they  are  not  so  nu- 
merous, nor  consequently  so  useful.  I 
own  I  am  sanguine  respecting  the  general 
introduction  of  blackberries  into  the  Lon- 
don street  cries.  What  an  innovation  they 
would  cause  !  what  a  rural  sight,  and 
sound,  and  taste,  and  smell,  would  they 
introduce  into  that  wilderness  of  houses  ! 
W  hat  a  conjuring  up  of  happy  feelings—, 
almost  as  romantic  as  those  that  are  in- 
spired by  "  bilberries,  ho I"  WThen  I 
resided  in  London,  I  recollect  the  wild, 
and  exquisite,  and  undefinable  sensations 
that  were  excited  by  the  peculiar  and 
un-city-like  cry  of  these  "  whorts.***  I 
used  to  look  out  at  the  blue-frocked  boys 
who  sold  them,  with  their  heary  country 
faces ;  capacious  "  gabardines,  "  that 
hinted  of  Caliban;  round  hats,  that 
knew  no  touch  of  form  ;  and  unaccount- 
able laced  up  boots;  with  as  much 
astonishment,  as  if  I  had  beheld  and 
heard  purveyors  from  the  wilderness 
shouting  "  Manna .'"  which  we  all  know 
is  "  angel's  food .'" 

I  have  taken  up  sadly  too  much  of  your 
time,  sir,  I  feel  assured.  I  intended  but 
to  name  the  method  of  making  blackberry 
jam,  to  assure  you  of  its  salubrity,  and. 
to  request  you  to  recommend  its  general 
use: — and  I  have  only  now  to  request 
that  you  will  not  suffer  the  very  imperfect 
manner  in  which  /,  who  cannot  write  for 
the  public  eye,  have  handled  the  subject 
to  deter  you  from  doing  it  justice. 
I  am,  Sir. 

Yours  respectfully. 

i.  IT. 

P.  S.  It  has  just  occurred  to  me  to  say, 
why   should    not  grocers,  confectioners, 

*  As  they  arc  called,  near  the  uneultiTatcd  moor, 
land  waste  where  they  grow.     IFerticfcrrrey  it  tlM 


1119 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  25. 


1J2C 


fruiterers,  and  chandlers,  speculate  in  the     think  it  might  be  sold,  with  a  reasonable 
"  new  article,"  and  provflk  sto 
to  meet  a  probable  demancn      I 


store  oi  it     profit,  at  sixpence  or  eightpence  a  pound 
should 


JBratomg  of  tl)t  Sotterp  in  6uiliii)aU,  1751. 


DEATH  OF  THE  LOTTERY. 
In  the  spring,  and  for  three  weeks 
after  midsummer,  1826,  the  lottery-office 
keepers  incessantly  plied  every-  man, 
woman,  and  child  in  the  United  Kingdom, 
and  its  dependencies,  with  petitions  to 
make  a  fortune  in  "  the  last  lottery  that 
can  be  drawn."  Men  paraded  the  streets 
with  large  printed  placards  on  poles,  or 
pasted  on  their  backs,  announcing  "  All 
Lotteries  End  for  Ever!  18th  of  July." 
The  walls  were  stuck,  and  hand-bills  were 
thrust  into  the  hands  of  street  passengers, 
with  the  same  heart-rending  intelligence, 
and  with  the  solemn  assurance  that  the 
demand  for  tickets  and  shares  was  im- 
mense !  Their  prices  had  so  risen,  were  so 
rising,  and  would  be  so  far  beyond  all  cal- 
culation, that  to  get  shares  or  tickets  at  all, 
they  must  be  instantly  purchased !  As 
the  time  approached,  a  show  was  got  up  to 
proclaim  that  the  deplorable  "  Death  of 
the  Lottery,"  would  certainly  take  place 
on  the  appDinted  day  ;  but  on  some  ac- 


count or  other,  the  pathetic  appeal  of  the 
benevolent  contractors  was  disregarded, 
and  the  gentlemen  about  to  be  "  turned 
off,"  were  as  unheeded,  and  as  unlamented 
as  criminals,  who  say  or  sing  in  their  last 
moments — 

"  Gentlefolks  all 

Pity  our  fall ! 

Have  pity  ail, 

Pity  our  fall !  " 

At  length  the  stoney-hearted  public 
were  "  respectfully"  informed  that  "  the 
lords  of  the  treasury  had  issued  a  "  re- 
prieve," and  that  the  "  drawing"  and 
"  quartering"  and  so  forth  was,  "  post- 
poned from  Tuesday,  18th  July,''  to  some 
dull  day  in  October,  "  when  Lotteries 
will  finish  for  ever  ?" 

Of  late  years  lotteries  have  been  drawn 
at  Coopers'-hall.  Formerly  they  were 
drawn  at  the  place,  and  in  the  manner 
exhibited  in  the  preceding  representation, 
after  an  engraving  by  Cole. 


1121 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  25. 


1122 


PHRENOLOGY. 

PHRENOLOGICAL     ILLUSTRATIONS.       By 
George    Cruikshank.     London:    Pub- 
lished by  George  Cruikshank,  Myddel- 
ton-terrace,  Pentonville.     1826. 
*'  In  the  name  of  wonder,"  a  reader 
may  inquire,  "  is  the  Every-Day  Book  to 
be    a    Review."  m  By    no    means; — but 
"  George  Cruikshank  *'  is  a  "  remarkable 
person ;"  his  first  appearance  in  the  cha- 
racter  of  an   author   is   a  «'  remarkable 
event,"  in  the  August  of  1826;  and,  as 
such,  deserves  a  "  remarkable  notice." 

Every  reader  is  of  course  aware,  that, 
as  certainly  as  a  hazel-rod,  between  the 
fingers  of  a  gifted  individual,  discovers  the 
precious  metals  and  waters  beneath 
the  earth,  so  certainly,  a  phrenological 
adept,  by  a  discriminating  touch  of  the 
nodosities  on  the  surface  of  the  head, 
detects  the  secret  sources,  or  "  springs  of 
human  action."  To  what  extent  Mr. 
Cruikshank  has  attained  this  quality,  or 
whether  he  is  under  obligations  to  Dr. 
Combe  for  "  a  touch  "  of  his  skill,  or  has 
bowed  his  head  to  Mr.  De  Ville  for  "*  a 
cast"  in  plaster,  is  not  so  clear,  as  that  his 
"Phrenological  Illustrations"  will  be  as 
popular,  and  assuredly  as  lasting  as  the 
science  itself — "  Cruikshank  and  Cranio- 
logy— /or  ever!" 

Be  it  observed,  however,  that  "  Cranio- 
logy,"  which  alliterates  so  well  with 
"  Cruikshank,"  was  only  a  "  proper" 
term,  while  the  disciples  of  doctors  Gall 
and  Spurzheim  were  traversing  the  exte- 
rior of  the  cranium ;  but  after  they  had 
gained  a  knowledge  of  the  interior,  and 
classified  and  arranged  their  discoveries, 
they  generalized  the  whole,  and  relin- 
quished the  term  "  craniology "  for  the 
denomination  "  phrenology."  This  change 
was  obviously  imperative,  because  "  cranio- 
logy" signifies  no  more  than  an  acquaint- 
ance with  the  outside  of  the  head,  and 
"  phrenology"  implies  familiarity  with  its 
contents. 

Still,  however,  the  incipient  phrenolo- 
gist must  avail  himself  of  "  craniology," 
as  an  introduction  to  the  nobler  science. 
To  him  it  is  as  necessary  a  guide  as  topo- 
graphy is  to  a  student  in  geology,  who 
without  that  requisite,  and  supposing  him 
ignorant  of  the  characters  of  mountains? 
may  lose  his  way,  and  be  found  vainly 
boring  Schehalion,  or  sinking  a  shaft 
within  the  crater  of  an  exhausted  volcano. 
To  prevent  such  mistakes  in  "  phrenolo- 
gy." the  "  estate  tinder  the  hat"  has  been 
'VOL.  II.— 88. 


thoroughly  explored,  and  divided  and  sub- 
divided :  names  and  numbers  have  been 
assigned  to  each  portion,  and  the  entire 
globe  of  the  microcosm  accurately  mea- 
sured, and  mapped,  "  according  to  the 
latest  surveys." 

Mr.  Cruikshank's  "  Illustrations  of 
Phrenology"  form  a  more  popular  intro- 
duction to  the  science  than  its  most  ardent 
admirers  could  possibly  hope.  He  ac- 
knowledges his  obligations  to  doctors 
Gall  and  Spurzheim,  and  implicitly  adopts 
their  arrangement  of  the  "organs;"  a 
word,  by  the  by,  that  signifies  those  con- 
vexities which  may  be  seen  by  the  eye, 
or  touched  by  the  ringer,  on  the  exterior 
of  the  greater  convexity  called  the  head ; 
and  which  are  produced,  or  thrown  up 
thereon,  by  the  working  or  heaving  of  the 
ideas  internally.  From  this  process  it 
appears  that  a  man  "  bores "  his  own 
head,  so  as  to  form  concavities  within  and 
convexities  without ;  and,  in  the  same  way, 
by  the  power  of  speech,  "  bores "  the 
heads  of  his  friends.  The  term  "  to  bore," 
however,  as  commonly  used,  signifies  "  to 
bother,"  or  "  perplex  and  confound,"  and 
therefore  is  not  admitted  in  the  nomen- 
clature of  "  phrenology,"  which  conde- 
scends to  level  every  "  bump,"  to  the 
right  understanding  of  the  meanest  ca- 
pacity. 

Of  Mr.  Cruikshank's  proficiency  or  rank 
in  the  phrenological  school,  the  writer  of 
this  article  is  incompetent  to  judge ;  but, 
as  regards  his  present  work,  whether  he 
be  a  master,  or  only  a  monitor,  is  of  little 
consequence;  he  seems  well  grounded  in 
rudiments,  and  more  he  does  not  profess 
to  teach.  Instead  of  delivering  a  mapped 
head  in  plaister  of  Paris  with  his  book, he 
exhibits  an  engraving  of  three  "  bare 
polls,"  or  polls  sufficiently  bare  to  discover 
the  position  of  every  convexity  or  "  organ" 
whereon  he  duly  marks  their  numbers, 
according  to  the  notation  of  doctors  Gall 
and  Spurzheim.  From  hence  we  learn 
that  we  have  nine  propensities,  nine  sen- 
timents, eleven  knowing  faculties,  and 
four  reflecting  faculties.  Adhering  to  the 
doctrinal  enumeration  and  nomenclature 
of  the  "  organs"  worked  out,  or  capable 
of  being  worked  out,  by  these  propensi- 
ties, sentiments,  and  faculties,  on  every 
human  head,  he  wisely  prefers  the  Baco- 
nian as  the  best  method  of  teaching  "  the 
new  science,"  and  exhibits  the  effects  o» 
each  of  the  thirty-three  "  organs  "  in  six 
sheets  of  etchings  by  himself,  from  his 
own  views  of  each  "  organ." 


1123 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—AUGUST  25. 


1124 


It  is  now  proper  to  hint  at  the  mode 
wherein  the  artist  has  executed  his  design, 
and  to  take  each  organ  according  to  its 
number,  and  under  its  scientific  term. 

I. — AMATIVENESS. 

Mr.  Cruikshank  seems  to  imagine  that 
this  organ  may  induce  a  declaration  of 
undivided  attachment  to  an  intermediate 
object,  in  order  to  arrive  at  the  object 
sincerely  desired:  under  the  circum- 
stances represented,  this  deviation  of 
"  amativeness"  may  be  denominated 
"  cupboard  love." 

II. — PHILOPROGEN  ITIVENESS. 

The  tendency  of  this  perplexing  organ 
hastens  the  necessity  of  extending  our 
"  colonial  policy."  This  sketch  is  full  of 
life  and  spirit. 

III.-*-  INHABITIVENESS. 

x 

The  subject  of  the  artist's  point,  a  "  te- 
nant for  life,"  doubtless  has  an  amazing 
developement  of  the  organ. 

IV. — ADHESIVENESS 

Is  "  enough  to  frighten  a  horse."  This 
organ  will  be  further  observed  on  pre- 
sently. 

V. — COMBATIVENESS. 

Its  vigorous  cultivation  is  displayed 
with  much  animation. 

VI. — DESTRUCTIVENESS. 

A  familiar  illustration  of  this  organ  is 
derived  from  a  common  occurrence  in 
almost  every  market-town.  Its  contem- 
plation, and  a  few  recent  incidents,  sug- 
"gest  a  query  or  two.  A  bull  ran  into  a 
china  shop,  but  instead  of  proceeding  to 
the  work  of  demolition,  threw  his  eye 
around  the  place,  thrust  his  horn  under  the 
arm  of  a  richly  painted  vase,  and  ran 
briskly  into  the  street  with  his  prize.  Was 
this  act  ascribable  to  the  organ  of"  colour,'* 
or  that  of  "  covetiveness?"  An  ox  walked 
into  a  well-furnished  parlour,  and  with- 
drew without  doing  further  mischief  than 
ogling  himself  in  the  looking-glass.  Were 
these  "  stolen"  looks  occasioned  by  "  co- 
vetiveness," or  "  self-love  ?"  Another  of 
the  bos  tribe  rapidly  passed  men,  women, 
and  children,  ran  up  the  steps  to  an  open 
street  door,  hurried  through  the  passage, 
ascended  every  flight  of  the  stair- case, 
nor  stopped  till  he  had  gained  the  front 
attic,  from  whence  he  put  his  head  through 
the  window,  and  looked  down  from  his 
proud  eminence,  over  the  parapet,  upon 


his  "followers."  On  this  third  example 
may  be  quoted  what  Mr.  Cruikshank  says 
of  another  organ,  " Inhabit iveness.  To  this 
organ  is  ascribed,  in  man,  Self  Love,  and 
in  other  animals,  Physical  height.  The 
artist  has  endeavoured  to  give  his  idea  of 
inhabitiveness  in  plate  2."  On  comparing 
the  anecdote  last  related,  with  the  artist's 
idea  in  the  plate  he  refers  to,  it  is  clear 
that,  on  this  occasion,  his  view  might  have 
been  more  elevated.  In  the  last-mentioned 
bull,  "  Inhabitiveness"  seems  to  have  been 
the  prevailing  organ.  Separately  consi- 
dering the  three  animals,  and  their  gene- 
ral character,  and  the  tempting  objects 
by  which  each  was  surrounded,  without 
their  manifestation  of  any  action  to  denote 
the  existence  of  "  destructiveness,"  a  ques- 
tion arises,  whether  counteracting  organs 
may  not  be  cultivated  in  such  animals,  to 
the  extent  of  neutralizing  the  primary 
developement. 

VII. — CONSTRUCT!  VENESS. 
Tbis  is  so  elegant  an  exhibition  of  the 
propensity  in  connection  with  certain  ve- 
getable tendencies,  that  it  is  doubtful  whe- 
the-r  developements  from  the  action  of  the 
sap  in  plants,  may  not  admit  of  classifi- 
cation with  our  own. 

VIII. — COVETIVENESS. 

In  this  representation,  the  countenance 
of  a  boy  is  frightfully  impressed  by  the 
incessant  restlessness  of  the  "organ,"  com- 
bined with  "cautiousness."  See  No.  XII 

TX. — SECRETI  VENESS. 
Exhibits  one  of  the  advantages  of  this 
"  propensity"  in  the  sex. 

X.— SELF  LOVE. 

Narcissus  himself  could  not  be  more 
strongly  marked,  than  this  "  heart-break- 
ing*' personage. 

XI.— APPROBATION.  See  No.  XXXIII. 

XII. — CAUTIOUSNESS. 
Prudence  and  indecision  are  here  united 
by  a  decisive  touch.     The  accessory,  who 
assists  this  "  procedure  of  the  human  un 
derstanding,"  is  exceedingly 

•'  light  and  airy ; 

Brisk  as  a  bee,  blithe  as  a  fairy.' 

XIII. — BENEVOLENCE. 
A  "benevolent"  individual,  receiving 
loud  acknowledgments  from  the  object  of 
his  favours. 

XIV. — VENERATION. 
Mr.  Cruikshank  says,  that  «  Dr.  Gall 


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THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  25. 


119.6 


observed  this  organ  chiefly  in  persons  with 
bald  heads."  The  artist  satisfactorily  ex- 
emplifies, that  when  its  absence  occurs  in 
Englishmen,  it  is  a  rare  exception  to  the 
national  character. 

XV.— HOPE 

This  sentiment  is  always  allegorized 
with  an  anchor,  and  Mr.  Cruikshank  re- 
presents a  poor  animal  under  its  influ- 
ence, "  brought  to  an  anchor." 

XVI.— IDEALITY. 

Mr.  Cruikshank  says,  that "  Mr.  Forster 
calls  this  the  organ  of  mysterizingness.  It 
is  supposed  that  a  peculiar  developement 
of  this  organ,  which  is  remarkably  con- 
spicuous in  all  poets,  occurs  in  persons 
who  are  disposed  to  have  visions,  see 
ghosts,  demons,  &c."  The  artist  repre- 
sents certain  appearances,  which  will  be 
recognised  as  "  familiars." 

XVII. — CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. 

"  According  to  Dr.  Spurzheim,  this  is 
the  organ  of  righteousness;"  but,  "  Dr. 
Gall  thinks  there  is  no  organ  of  conscience." 
Mr.  Cruikshank  exemplifies  the  latter 
opinion,  by  the  surprise  of  a  female  on 
receiving  "  an  unexpected  offer."  It 
will  .not  surprise  the  reader  if  he  looks  at 
the  print. 

XVIII.— FIRMNESS. 

"  Firmness,"  he  regards  in  the  light  of 
"  a  character  now  being  consigned  rapidly 
to  oblivion."  But,  "  while  there  is  life 
there  is  hope,"  and  the  character  alluded 
to  cannot  be  destroyed  without  the  anni- 
hilation of  "  adhesiveness,"  which  Mr. 
Cruikshank  defines  in  the  language  of  the 
science,  and  "  has  endeavoured  to  give  a 
strong  but  faithful  illustration  of,  in  plate 
2 ;"  a  representation,  alasl  too  accurate. 
See  No.  IV. 

XIX. — INDIVIDUALITY., 

A  more  select  specimen  could  not  have 
been  produced. 

XX.— FORM. 

This  is  well  represented.  "  Persons," 
says  Mr.  Cruikshank,  "  endowed  with 
this  organ,  are  fond  of  seeing  pictures, 
8cc."  They  may  likewise  be  frequently 
detected  in  jelly-rooms,  and  the  upper 
boxes  of  the  theatres. 

XXI— SIZE. 

Remarkably  developed  in  <:  a  great 
man  now  no  more  !" 

XXIL— WEIGHT. 

A    compliment   from   the   artist,   "  to 


which  he  is   confident  no  loyal  man  will 
offer  an  objection." 

XXIII. — COLOUR 

As  a  specimen  of  art,  this  is  the  most 
successful  of  the  illustrations. 

XXIV.— SPACE. 

An  enlarged  view  of  a  deep  seated  or- 
gan, bottomed  on  the  character  of  a  people 
whom  we  have  outri vailed. 

XXV. — ORDER. 

This  organ  as  a  ruling  power,  is  placed 
by  Mr.  Cruikshank  in  the  hand  ;  its  de- 
velopement manifestly  generates  "  Vene- 
ration." 

XXVI.— TIME. 

In  Mr.  Cruikshank's  words,  "  the  ar- 
tist's illustration  of  it  will  be  familiar  to 
every  one." 

XXVIL— NUMBER. 

A  portrait  of  an  individual  in  whom 
the  power  of  this  organ  is  supposed  to 
have  been  preeminent. 

XXVIII.— TUNE. 

This  organ,  according  to  the  artist,  pro- 
duces rectitude  in  the  dog. 

XXIX. — LANGUAGE. 
XXX. — COMPARISON. 

The  organ  of  "  Comparison"  is  exem- 
plified by  full  developements  from  "  Long 
Acre,"  and  «  Little  St.  Martin's-lane," 
within  one  door  from  the  residence  of 
"  Mr.  Thomas  Rodd,  bookseller,  Great 
Newport-street,"  whose  stock  of  books, 
large  as  it  is,  cannot  furnish  any  thing 
like  the  "  words  that  burn,"  in  the  artist's 
representation  of  "  LANGUAGE."* 

XXXI.— CAUSALITY. 

"This  is  nothing  more  than  the  organ 
.of  Inquisitiveness,"  and  the  artist  himself 
exercises  it,  by  gently  feeling  his  reader's 
pulse. 

*  Mr.  Rodd  seldom  adventures  in  paper  and  print,, 
yet  he  has  put  forth  a  "  second  edition,  with  consi- 
derable additions,"  of  a  curious  and  useful  little  vo- 
lume bearing  the  modest  title  of  "  An  Attempt  at  a 
Glossary  of  some  words  used  in  Cheshire,  communi- 
cated to  the  Society  of  Antiquarians.  By  Roger 
Wilbraham,  Esq.  F.'R.  S.  and  S.  A.  London,  1826," 
royal  18mo.  pp.  120 

If  a  person  desires  to  collect  books,  or  to  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  writers  on  any  given  subject, 
ancient  or  modern,  rare  or  common,  I  know  of  no 
one  to  whom  he  can  apply  more  successfully,  or 
on  whom  he  can  rely  for  judgment  and  integrity 
more  implicitly,  than  Mr.  Ttiomas  Rodd,  His  mind 
is  as  well  stored  with  information,  as  his  shop  ia 
with  good  authors,  in  every  class  of  literature  ;  and  ha 
is  as  ready  to  communicate  his  knowledge  gratui- 
tously, as  he  is  to  part  -*ith  his  books  at  reasonable 
prices  "  to  those  who  choose  to  buy  them."— Edi tor* 


1127 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  25. 


1123 


XXXIL— WIT. 

There  is  great  difficulty  in  defining  this 
organ.  Mr.  Cruikshank's  representation 
of  it  is  humorous. 

XXXIII.— IMITATION. 

This  is  an  admirable  exhibition  of  the 
j)rgan,  as  we  may  imagine  it  to  be  culti- 
vated by  "  Mr.  Mathews-At  home  !"  with 
decided  "APPROBATION."  See  No.  XI. 

Having  hastily  gone  over  the  organs  of 
the  science,  we  have  an  additional  one, 
"  The  Organ  of  DRAWING."  Mr.  Cruik- 
shank  says,  he  "  cannot  satisfy  himself  as 
to  the  precise  seat  of  this  organ,  or  as  to 
the  extent  of  its  sphere  of  activity,  but  he 
has  attempted  an  illustration  of  it."  He 
thinks  it  not  improbable  "  that  the  pos- 
session of  this  special  faculty,  now  only 
at  his  fingers'  ends,  may  enable  him  to 
venture  again"  if  his  present  efforts  are 
successful  Why  they  should  not  be  it  is 
difficult  to  conceive;  for  however  whimsi- 
cal and  ludicrous  his  "  Phrenological  Il- 
lustrations" may  sometimes  be,  they  are 
so  connected  with  the  vocabulary  of  the 
science  at  the  commencement  of  his  pub- 
lication, as  to  form  the  horn-book,  the 
primer,  the  reading  made  easy,  and  the 
grammar  of  phrenology. 

Such  a  production  as  this,  at  such  a 
price,  (eight  shillings  plain,  and  twelve 
shillings  coloured,)  from  such  an  artist, 
could  not  have  been  expected.  His  ini- 
mitable powers  have  hitherto  entertained 
and  delighted  the  public  far  more  to  the 
emolument  of  others  than  himself;  and 
now  thit  he  has  ventured  to  "  take  a  be- 
nefit" on  his  own  account,  there  cannot 
be  a  doubt  that  his  admirers  will  encou- 
rage "their  old  favourite"  to  successive 
endeavours  for  their  amusement  and  in- 
struction. His  entire  talents  have  never 
been  called  forth ;  and  some  are  of  a  far 
higher  order  than  even  the  warmest  friends 
to  his  pencil  can  conceive. 

Though  the  work  is  to  be  obtained  of 
all  the  booksellers  in  London,  and  every 
town  in  the  united  kingdom,  yet  it  would 
be  a  well-timed  compliment  to  Mr.  Cruik- 
shank  if  town  purchasers  of  his  "  Phreno- 
logical Illustrations"  were  to  direct  their 
steps  to  his  house,  No.  25,  Myddelton  Ter- 
race, Pentonville. 

SHOWERS  OF  BLOOD. 
On  the  2Mh  of  August,  1826,  the  editor 
ot  the  Every-Day  Bookt  while  writing  in 
his  room,  took  up  the  open  envelope  of  a 


letter  he  had  received  about  ten  minutes 
before,  and  to  his  surprise,  observed  on 
its  inner  side,  which  had  been  uppermost 
on  the  table,  several  spots  which  seemea 
to  be  blood.  They  were  fresh  and  wet, 
and  of  a  brilliant  scarlet  colour.  They 
could  not  be  red  ink,  for  there  was  none 
in  the  house;  nor  could  they  have  been 
formed  on  the  paper  by  any  person,  for 
no  one  had  entered  the  room ;  nor  had  he 
moved  from  the  chair  wherein  he  sat.  The 
appearances  seemed  unaccountable,  till 
considering  that  the  window  sashes 
were  thrown  up,  and  recollecting  an  anec- 
dote in  the  "  Life  of  Peiresc,"  he  was  per- 
suaded that  they  were  easily  to  be  ac- 
counted for;  and  that  they  were  a  speci- 
men of  those  "  showers  of  blood/'  which 
terrified  our  forefathers  in  the  dark  ages, 
and  are  recorded  by  old  chroniclers. 

It  is  related,  for  instance,  that  in  the 
fifth  century,  "  at  Yorke,  it  rained  bloud ;" 
and  in  697,  "  corne,  as  it  was  gathered  in 
the  harvest  time,  appeared  bloudie,"  and 
"  in  the  furthermost  partes  of  Scotland  it 
rayned  bloud."*  In  1553,  it  was  deemed 
among  the  forewarnings  of  the  deaths  of 
Charles  and  Philip,  dukes  of  Brunswick, 
that  there  were  "  drops  of  bloude  upon 
hearbes  and  trees."  ^ 

As  a  solution  of  the  origin,  or  cause  of 
bloody  spots  on  the  paper,  the  anecdote 
in  Gassendi's  "  Life  of  Peiresc"  is  added. 

"Nothing  in  the  whole  year,  1608,  did 
more  please  him, — than  that  he  observed 
and  philosophized  about — the  bloody  rain, 
which  was  commonly  reported  to  have 
fallen  about  the  beginning  of  July;  great 
drops  thereof  were  plainly  to  be  seen,  both 
in  the  city  itself,  upon  the  walls  of  the 
churchyard  of  the  great  church,  which  is 
near  the  city  wall,  and  upon  the  city  walls 
themselves;  also  upon  the  walls  of  vil- 
lages, hamlets,  and  towns,  for  some  miles 
round  about;  for  in  the  first  place,  he 
went  himself  to  see  those  wherewith  the 
stones  were  coloured,  and  did  what  he 
could  to  come  to  speak  with  those  hus- 
bandmen, who  beyond  Lambesk,  were 
reported  to  have  been  so  affrighted  at  the 
falling  of  the  said  rain,  that  they  left  their 
work,  and  ran  as  fast  as  their  legs  could 
carry  them  into  the  adjacent  houses 
Whereupon,  he  found  that  it  was  a  fable 
which  was  reported,  touching  those  hus- 
bandmen. Nor  was  he  pleased  that  the 


*  Hollinshed. 

t  Batman's  Doome. 


4129 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  25 


naturalists  should  refer  this  kind  of  rain 
ttf  vapours  drawn  up  out  of  red  earth  aloft 
into  the  air,  which  congealing  afterwards 
into  liquor,  fall  down  in  this  form ;  be- 
cause such  vapours  as  are  drawn  aloft  by 
heat,  ascend  without  colour,  as  we  may 
know  by  the  alone  example  of  red  roses, 
out  of  which  the  vapours  that  arise  by 
heat,  are  congealed  into  transparent  water. 
He  was  less  pleased  with  the  common 
people,  and  some  divines,  who  judged  that 
it  was  a  work  of  the  devils  and  witches, 
\vho  had  killed  innocent  young  children ; 
for  this  he  counted  a  mere  conjecture, 
possibly  also  injurious  to  the  goodness 
and  providence  of  God. 

"  In  the  mean  while  an  accident  hap- 
pened, out  of  which  he  conceived  he  had 
collected  the  true  cause  thereof.  For  some 
months  before,  he  shut  up  in  a  box  a  cer- 
tain palmer-worm  which  he  had  found, 
rare  for  its  bigness  and  form  ;  which,  when 
he  had  forgotten,  he  heard  a  buzzing  in 
the  box,  and  when  he  opened  it,  found 
the  palmer-worm,  having  cast  its  coat,  to 
be  turned  into  a  very  beautiful  butterfly, 
which  presently  flew  away,  leaving  in  the 
bottom  of  the  box  a  red  drop  as  broad  as 
an  ordinary  sous  or  shilling  ;  and  because 
this  happened  about  the  beginning  of  the 
same  month,  and  about  the  same  time  an 
incredible  multitude  of  butterflies  were 
observed  flying  in  the  air,  he  was  there- 
fore of  opinion,  that  such  kind  of  butter- 
flies resting  upon  the  walls,  had  there  shed 
such  like  drops,  and  of  the  same  bigness. 
Wherefore,  he  went  the  second  time,  and 
found  by  experience,  that  those  drops 
were  not  to  be  found  on  the  house  tops, 
nor  upon  the  round  sides  of  the  stones 
which  stuck  out,  as  it  would  have  hap- 

Eened,  if  blood  had  fallen  from  the  sky, 
ut  rather  where  the  stones  were  some- 
what hollowed,  and  in  holes,  where  such 
small  creatures  might  shroud  and  nestle 
themselves.  Moreover,  the  walls  which 
were  so  spotted,  were  not  in  the  middle 
of  towns,  but  they  were  such  as  bordered 
upon  the  fields,  nor  were  they  on  the 
nighest  parts,  but  only  so  moderately  high 
as  butterflies  are  commonly  wont  to  flie. 

"Thus,  therefore,  he  interpreted  that 

which  Gregory  of  Tours  relates,  touching 

bloody   rain   seen   at  Paris  in  divers 

tiaces,  in  the  days  of  Childebert,  and  on 

certain  house  in  the  territory  of  Senlis ; 

also  that  which  is  storied,  touching  rain- 

mg  of  blood  about  the  end  of  June,  in  the 

days  of  king  Robert ;  so  that  the  blood 

which  fell  upon  flesh,  garments,  or  stones, 


could  not  be  washed  out,  but  that  which 
fell  on  wood  might ;  for  it  was  the  same 
•season  of  butterflies,  and  experience  hath 
taught  us,  that  no  water  will  wash  these 
spots  out  of  the  stones,  while  they  are 
fresh  and  new.  When  he  had  said  these 
and  such  like  things  to  Varius,  a  great 
company  of  auditors  being  present,  it 
was  agreed  that  they  should  go  together 
and  search  out  the  matter,  and  as  they 
went  up  and  down,  here  and  there,  through 
the  fields,  they  found  many  drops  upon 
stones  and  rocks;  but  they  were  only  on 
the  hollow  and  under  parts  of  the  stones, 
but  not  upon  those  which  lay  most  open 
to  the  skies." 

Thus  the  first  mentioned  appearances 
on  the  paper,  may  be  naturally  accounted 
for,  and  so 

(t  ends  the  history 

Of  this  wonderful  mystery." 

On  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  the 
25th  of  August,  1826,  the  editor  witnessed 
the  terrific  tempest  of  thunder  and  light- 
ning, mentioned  in  the  newspapers.  He 
was  walking  in  the  London-road  near  the 
Surrey  obelisk,  when  the  flashes  sheeted 
out  more  rapidly  in  succession,  and  to 
greater  extent  than  have  ever  been  wit- 
nessed in  this  country,  within  the  memory 
of  man.  They  were  accompanied  by  a 
gale  of  wind  that  took  up  light  objects, 
such  as  hay,  leaves,  and  sticks,  and  im- 
mense clouds  of  dust  to  a  great  height,  and 
impelled  people  along  against  their  will. 
The  sudden  loud  claps  of  thunder,  and 
the  red  forking  of  the  flashes  were  tre- 
mendously grand  and  appalling.  .At  one 
time  there  was  a  crashing  burst  of  t»"^».  - 
der,  and  a  rushing  sound  from  the  electric 
fluid,  like  the  discharge  of  a  flight  of 
rockets  close  at  hand.  This  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  torrent  of  rain,  which  lasted 
only  a  few  minutes,  and  was  as  heavy  as 
from  the  bursting  of  a  number  of  water 
spouts.  This  storm  was  literally  a  tor- 
nado. 

Lightning  was  looked  upon  as  sacred 
both  by  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  and 
was  supposed  to  be  sent  to  execute  ven- 
geance on  the  earth.  Hence  persons 
killed  with  lightning,  being  thought  hate- 
ful to  the  gods  were  buried  apart  by 
themselves,  lest  the  ashes  of  other  men 
should  receive  pollution  from  them.  All 
places  struck  with  lightning  were  carefully 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  26. 


1132 


avoided  and  fenced  round,  from«an  opin- 
ion that  Jupiter  had  either  taken  offence 
at  them,  and  fired  upon  them  the  marks 
of  his  displeasure,  or  that  he  had  by  this 
means  pitched  upon  them  as  sacred  to 
himself.  The  ground  thus  fenced  about, 
was  called  by  the  Romans  bidental. 
Lightning  was  much  observed  in  augury, 
and  was  a  good  or  bad  omen,  according 
to  the  circumstances  attending  it.* 

When  a  stormy  cloud,  which  is  nothing 
but  a  heap  of  exhalations  strongly  electri- 
fied, approaches  near  enough  to  a  tower, 
or  a  house,  or  a  cloud  not  electrified  ; 
when  it  approaches  so  near,  that  a  spark 
flies  from  it,  this  occasions  the  explosion, 
which  we  call  a  clap  of  thunder.  The 
light  we  then  see  is  the  lightning,  or  the 
thunderbolt.  Sometimes  we  see  only  a 
sudden  and  momentary  flash,  at  other 
times  it  is  a  train  of  fire,  taking  different 
forms  and  directions.  The  explosion  at- 
tending the  lighning,  shows  that  it  is  the 
vapours  which  occasion  the  thunder;  by 
taking  fire  suddenly,  they  agitate  and 
dilate  the  air  violently.  At  every  electri- 
cal spark  a  clap  is  heard.  The  thunder 
is  sometimes  composed  of  several  claps 
or  prolonged  and  multiplied  by  echoes. 

As  soon  as  we  see  a  flash  of  lightning, 
we  have  only  to  reckon  the  seconds  in  a 
watch,  or  how  often  our  pulse  beats,  be- 
tween the  flash  and  the  clap.  Whoever 
can  reckon  ten  pulsations  between  the 
lightning  and  the  thunder,  is  still  at  the 
distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  league  from  the 
storm ;  for  it  is  calculated  that  the  sound 
takes  nearly  the  time  of  forty  pulsations,  in 
going  a  league.  The  lightning  does  not 
always  go  in  a  direct  line  from  top  to 
bottom.  It  often  winds  about  and  goes 
zigzag,  and  sometimes  it  does  not  lighten 
till  very  near  the  ground.  The  combus- 
tible matter  which  reaches  the  ground,  or 
takes  fire  near  it,  never  fails  to  strike. 
But  sometimes  it  is  not  strong  enough  to 
approach  us,  and  like  an  ill-charged  can- 
non, it  disperses  in  the  atmosphere  and 
does  no  harm.  When,  on  the  contrary, 
the  fiery  exhalations  reach  the  ground, 
they  sometimes  make  terrible  havoc. 

We  may  judge  of  the  prodigious  force  of 
Ihe  lightning  by  the  wonderful  effects  it 
produces.  The  heat  of  the  flame  is  such, 
that  it  burns  and  consumes  every  thing 
that  is  combustible.  It  even  melts  metals, 
but  it  often  spares  what  is  contained  in 
ihem,  when  they  are  of  a  substance  not 


too  close  to  kave  the  passage  free.  It  is 
by  the  velocity  of  the  lightning  that  tne 
bones  of  men  and  animals  are  sometimes 
calcined,  while  the  flesh  remains  unhurt. 
That  the  strongest  buildings  are  thrown 
down,  trees  split,  or  torn  up  by  the  root, 
the  thickest  of  walls  pierced,  stones  and 
rocks  broken,  and  reduced  to  ashes.  It 
is  to  the  rarification  and  violent  motion 
of  the  air,  produced  by  the  heat  and  velo- 
city of  the  lightning,  that  we  must  attribute 
the  death  of  men  and  animals  found  suffo- 
cated, without  any  appearance  of  having 
been  struck  by  lightning. 

"  Experience  teaches  us,  that  the  rain 
which  falls  when  it  thunders,  is  the  most 
fruitful  to  the  earth.  The  saline  and  sul- 
phurous particles  which  fill  the  atmos- 
phere during  a  storm,  are  drawn  down  by 
the  rain,  and  become  excellent  nourish- 
ment for  the  plants  ;  without  mentioning 
the  number  of  small  worms,  seeds,  and 
little  insects  which  are  also  drawn  down 
in  thunder  showers,  and  are  with  the 
help  of  a  microscope,  visible  in  the  drops 
of  water.* 

In  August,  1769,  a  flash  of  lightning 
fell  upon  the  theatre  at  Venice,  in  which 
were  more  than  six  hundred  persons. 
Besides  killing  several  of  the  audience,  it 
put  out  the  candles,  singed  a  lady's  hair, 
and  melted  the  gold  case  of  her  watch 
and  the  fringe  of  her  robe.  The  earrings 
of  several  ladies  were  melted,  and  the 
stones  split ;  and  one  of  the  performers 
in  the  orchestra,  had  his  violincello  shat- 
tered in  a  thousand  splinters,  but  received 
no  damage  himself,  f 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  »  .  .  61  •  97. 


26. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  '26th  of  August,  1635,  died 
Lope  de  Vega,  called  the  "  Spanish  Phe- 
nix,"  aged  sixty-three  years.  His  funeral 
was  conducted  with  princely  magnificence 
by  his  patron,  the  duke  of  Susa,  and  his 
memory  was  celebrated  with  suitable 
pomp  in  all  the  theatres  of  Spain. 

Lope  de  Vega  was  the  rival  and  con- 
queror of  Cervantes  in  the  dramatic  art  ; 
yet  in  his  youth  he  embarked  in  the  cele- 
brated Spanish  armada,  for  the  invasion 


•*  Enry,  Brit. 


Sturm. 


Annual  Regfslu;» 


1133 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  27. 


1134 


of  England,  and  spent  part  of  his  life  in 
civil  and  military  occupations. 

His  invention  is  as  unparalleled  in  the 
nistory  of  poetry,  as  the  talent  which 
enabled  him  to  compose  regular  and  well 
constructed  verse  with  as  much  ease  as 
prose.  Cervantes,  on  this  account,  styled 
him  a  prodigy  of  nature.  His  verses 
flowed  freely,  and  such  was  his  confidence 
in  his  countrymen,  that  as  they  applauded 
his  writings,  which  were  unrestrained  by 
critical  notes,  he  refused  conformity  to 
any  restrictions.  "  The  public,"  he  said, 
"  paid  for  the  drama,  and  the  taste  of 
those  who  paid  should  be  suited." 

He  required  only  four-and-twenty 
hours  to  write  a  versified  drama  of  three 
acts,  abounding  in  intrigues,  prodigies, 
or  interesting  situations,  and  interspersed 
with  sonnets  and  other  versified  accompa- 
niments. In  general  the  theatrical  mana- 
ger carried  away  what  De  Vega  wrote 
before  he  had  time  to  revise  it,  and  a 
fresh  applicant  often  arrived  to  prevail  on 
him  to  commence  a  new  piece  immedi- 
ately. In  some  instances  he  composed  a 
play  in  the  short  space  of  three  or  four 
hours.  This  astonishing  facility  enabled 
him  to  supply  the  Spanish  theatre  with 
upwards  of  two  thousand  original  dramas. 
According  to  his  own  testimony  he  wrote 
on  an  average  five  sheets  every  day,  and  at 
this  rate  he  must  have  produced  upwards 
of  twenty  millions  of  verses. 

He  was  enriched  by  his  talents,  and 
*heir  fame  procured  him  distinguished 
honours.  He  is  supposed  at  one  time  to 
have  possessed  upwards  of  a  hundred 
thousand  ducats,  but  he  was  a  bad  econo- 
mist, for  the  poor  of  Madrid  shared  his 
purse.  He  was  elected  president  of  the 
spiritual  college  in  that  capital ;  and 
pope  Urban  VIII.  sent  him  the  degree 
of  doctor  in  divinity  with  a  flattering 
letter,  and  bestowed  on  him  the  cross  of 
Malta;  he  was  also  appointed  fiscal  of 
the  apostolic  chamber,  and  a  familiar  of 
the  inquisition,  an  office  regarded  singu- 
larly honourable  at  that  period.  When- 
ever he  appeared  in  the  streets,  boys  ran 
shouting  after  him;  he  was  surrounded 
by  crowds  of  people,  all  eager  to  gain  a 
sight  of  the  "  prodigy  of  nature;"  and 
those  who  could  not  keep  pace  with  the 
rest,  stood  and  gazed  on  him  with  wonder 
as  he  passed. 

Lope  de  Vega's  inexhaustible  fancy  and 
lasciriating  ease  of  composition,  commu- 
iiicated  that  character  to  Spanish  ccmedy  ; 
and  all  subsequent  Spanish  writers  trod 


in  his  footsteps,  until  its  genius  was 
banished  by  the  introduction  of  the 
French  taste  into  Spain.* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  60  •  77. 


27. 


1688.     A  DATE  IN  PANYER-ALLEY. 

The  editor  has  received  a  present  from 
Mr.  John  Smith  of  a  wood  block,  en- 
graved by  himself,  as  a  specimen  of  his 
talents  in  that  department  of  art,  and  in 
acknowledgment  of  a  friendly  civility  he 
is  pleased  to  recollect  at  so  long  a  distance 
from  the  time  when  it  was  offered,  that  it 
only  dwelt  in  his  own  memory. 

The  impression  from  this  engraving, 
and  the  accompanying  information,  will 
acquaint  the  reader  with  an  old  London 
"  effigy"  which  many  may  remember  to 
have  seen.  It  is  the  only  cut  in  the 
present  sheet  ;  for  an  article  on  a  popular 
amusement,  which  will  require  a  consi- 
derable number  of  engravings,  is  in  pre- 
paration, and  the  artists  are  busily  en- 
gaged on  them. 

Concerning  this  stone  we  must  resort 
to  old  Stow.  According  to  this  "  honest 
chronicler,"  he  peregrinated  to  where  this 
stone  now  stands,  and  where  in  his  time 
stood  "  the  church  of  St.  Michael  ad  Bla- 
dudum,  or  at  the  come  ('  corruptly,'  he 
says,  '  at  the  querne,')  so  called,  because 
in  place  thereof,  was  sometime  a  corne- 
market.  At  the  west  end  of  this  parish 
•church  is  a  small  passage  for  people  on 
foot  thorow  the  same  church;"  and  he 
proceeds  to  throw  the  only  light  that 
seems  to  appear  on  this  stone,  "  and  west 
from  the  said  church,  some  distance,  is 
another  passage  out  of  Paternoster-row, 
and  is  called  (of  such  a  signe)  Panyer- 
alley,  which  commeth  out  into  the  north, 
over  against  Saint  Martin's-lane." 

It  is  plain  from  Stow's  account,  that 
Panyer-alley  derived  its  name  from  "  a 
signe,"  but  what  that  "  signe"  was  we 
are  ignorant  of.  It  may  have  been  a 
tavern-sign,  and  this  stone  may  have  been 
the  ancient  sign  in  the  wall  of  the  tavern 
It  represents  a  boy  seated  on  a  panyer 
pressing  a  bunch  of  grapes  between  his 
hand  and  his  foot.  By  some  people  it  is 
called  "  the  Pick-my-toe."  The  inscrip- 
tion mentions  the  date  when  it  was  either 

»  Bouterwck. 


1J35 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  27. 


1136 


repaired  or  put  up  in  its  present  situation     affirms  that  the  spot  is  the  highest  ground 
in  a  wall  on  the  east  side  of  the  alley,  and     of  the  city. 


WHENy  HAVI JWUOH   WRiH^ 


Wnile  we  are  at  this  place,  it  is  amus- 
ing to  remark  what  Stow  observes  of  Ivy- 
lane,  which  runs  parrallel  with  Panyer- 
alley  westward.  He  says,  that  "  Ivie- 
lane"  was  "  so  called  of  ivie  growing  on 
the  walls  of  the  prebend's  houses,"  which 
were  situated  in  that  lane ;  "  but  now," 
speaking  of  his  own  days,  "  the  lane  is 
replenished  on  ooth  sides  with  faire 


houses,  and  divers  offices  have  been  there 
kept,  by  registers,  namely,  for  the  prero- 
gative court  of  the  archbishop  of  Cantur- 
bury,  the  "probate  of  wils,  which  is  now 
removed  into  Wavwicke-lane,  and  also 
for  the  lord  treasurer's  remembrance  of 
the  exchequer,  &c." 

Hence  we  see  that  in  Ivy-lane,  now  a 
place  of  mean  dwelling,  was  one  of  the 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  27. 


1138 


great  offices  at  present  in  Doctors'  Com- 
mons, and  another  of  equal  importance 
belonging  to  the  crown ;  but  the  deriva- 
tion of  its  name  from  the  ivy  on  the  walls 
of  the  prebends'  houses,  an  adjanctive 
ornament  that  can  scarcely  be  imagined 
by  the  residents  of  the  closely  confined 
neighbourhood,  is  the  pleasantest  part  of 
the  narration. 


And  Stow  also  tells  us  of  "  Mount- 
goddard-street,"  which  "  goeth  up  to  the 
north  end  of  Ivie-lane,"  of  its  having  been 
so  called  "  of  the  tippling  there,  and  the 
goddards  mounting  from  the  tappe  to  the 
table,  from  the  table  to  the  mouth,  and 
some  times  over  the  head." 

Goddards. 

These  were  cups  or  goblets  made  with 
a  cover  or  otherwise.  In  "  Tancred  and 
Gismunda,"  an  old  play,  we  are  told, 
"  Lucrece  entered,  attended  by  a  maiden 
of  honour  with  a  covered  goddard  of  gold, 
and,  drawing  the  curtains,  she  offered 
unto  Gismunda  to  taste  thereof."  So  also 
Gayton,  in  his  "  Festivous  Notes  on  Don 
Quixote/'  mentions — 

"  A  goddard,  or  an  anniversary  spice  bowl, 
Drank  off  by  th'  gossips." 

Goddard,  according  to  Camden,  means 
*'  godly  the  cup,"  and  appears  to  Mr. 
Archdeacon  Nares,who  cites  these  autho- 
rities to  have  been  a  christening  cup. 
That  gentleman  can  find  no  certain 
account  of  the  origin  of  the  name. 

Perhaps  goddard  was  derived  from 
"  godward :"  we  had  looking  godward, 
and  thinking  godward,  and  perhaps 
dnnking  godward,  for  a  benediction 


might  have  been  usual  at  a  christening  or 
solemn  merry-making;  and  from  thence 
godward  drinking  might  have  come  to 
the  godward  cup,  and  so  the  goddard. 

THE  CUCKOO. 
To  the  Editor  of  tht,  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — If  the  following  "  Address  to  the 
Cuckoo,"  from  my  work  on  birds,  should 
suit  the  pages  of  the  Every-Day  Book,  it 
is  quite  at  your  service. 

Of  the  cuckoo,  I  would  just  observe, 
that  I  do  not  think,  notwithstanding  all 
that  Dr.  Jenner  has  written  concerning  it, 
its  natural  history  is  by  any  means  fully  de- 
veloped. I  have  had  some  opportunities 
of  observing  the  habits  of  this  very  singu- 
lar bird,  and  in  me  there  is  room  for 
believing  that,  even  when  at  maturity,  it 
is  sometimes,  if  not  frequently,  fed  by 
other  birds.  It  is  very  often  attended  by 
one,  two,  or  even  more,  small  birds, 
during  its  flight,  for  what  purpose  is  not, 
I  believe,  at  present  known.  The  "  wry- 
neck,'* junx  torquilla,  called  in  some 
provinces  the  "cuckoo's  maiden,"  is  said 
to  be  one  of  these.  Perhaps  it  may  be 
novel  information  to  your  readers  to  be 
told,  that  there  is  a  bird  in  the  United 
States  of  America,  called  "  Cowpen/' 
emberiza  pecoris,  by  Wilson,  which  lays 
her  eggs  in  other  bird's  nests,  in  a  similar 
way  to  the  cuckoo  in  this  country  :  the 
"  cowpen "  is,  however,  a  much  smaller 
bird  than  the  cuckoo. 

I  am,  &c. 

JAMES  JENNINGS. 
Dolby-terrace,  City-road, 
August  28,  1826. 


To  THE  CUCKOO. 

Thou  monotonous  bird !  whom  we  ne'er  wish,  away, 
Who  hears  thee  not  pleas 'd  at  the  threshold  of  May 
Thy  advent  reminds  us  of  all  that  is  sweet, 
Which  nature,  benignant,  now  lays  at  our  feet ; 
Sweet  flowers — sweet  meadows — sweet  birds  and  their  loves; 
Sweet  sunshiny  mornings,  and  sweet  shady  groves ; 
Sweet  smiles  of  the  maiden — sweet  looks  of  the  youth, 
And  sweet  asseverations,  too,  prompted  by  truth ; 
Sweet  promise  of  plenty  throughout  the  rich  vale  ; 
And  sweet  the  bees'  humming  in  meadow  and  vale ; 
Of  the  summer's  approach — of  the  presence  of  spring, 
For  ever,  sweet  cuckoo!  continue  to  sing. 
Oh,  who  then,  dear  bird !  could  e'er  wish  thee  away, 
Who  hears  thee  not  plecis'd  at  the  threshold  of  May 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  28,  29. 


1140 


As  every  trait  in  the  natural  history  of 
birds  is  interesting,  I  beg  leave  to  state 
that  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged  to  any 
reader  of  the  Every- Day  Book  for  the 
communication  of  any  novel  fact  or  infor- 
mation concerning  this  portion  of  the 
animal  kingdom,  of  which  suitable  ac- 
knowledgment will  be  made  in  my  work. 
I  understand  the  late  lord  Erskine  wrote 
and  printed  for  private  circulation,  a 
poern  on  the  rook.  Can  any  of  your 
readers  oblige  me  with  a  copy  of  it,  or 
refer  me  to  any  person  or  book  so  that  I 
might  obtain  a  sight  of  it  ?  J.  J. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  35. 


ST.  AUGUSTINE. 

Of  this  father  of  the  church,  whose 
.name  is  in  the  church  of  England  calen- 
dar, there  is  a  memoir  in  vol.  i.  col.  1  144. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  28th  of  August,  1736,  a  man 
passing  the  bridge  over  the  Savock,  near 
Preston,  Lancashire,  saw  two  large  flights 
of  birds  meet  with  such  rapidity,  that  one 
hundred  and  eighty  of  them  fell  to  the 
ground.  They  were  taken  up  by  him, 
and  sold  in  Preston  market  the  same  day.. 

HOAX  AT  NORWICH. 

The  following  bill  was  in  circulation 
in  Norwich  and  the  neighbourhood  for 
days  previous,  and  on  the  evening  of  Au- 
gust 28,  1826,  20,000  sagacious  people 
from  the  city  and  country  around, 
on  foot;  on  horseback,  in  chaises,  gigs, 
and  other  vehicles,  collected  below  the 
hill  to  witness  the  extraordinary  per- 
formance. 

"  St.  Jameses-hill,  back  of  the  Horse- 
barracks. 

"  The  public  are  respectfully  informed 
that  signor  Carlo  Gram  Villecrop,  the  ce- 
lebrated Swiss  mountain-flyer,  from  Ge- 
neva and  Mont  Blanc,  is  just  arrived  in 
this  city,  and  will  exhibit,  with  a  Tyrolese 
pole  fifty  feet  long,  his  most  astonishing 
gymnastic  nights,  never  before  witnessed 
in  this  country.  Signor  Villecrop  has  had 
the  great  honour  of  exhibiting  his  most 
extraordinary  feats  on  the  continent  be- 
fore the  king  of  Prussia,  Emperor  of 
Austria,  the  Grand  duke  of  Tuscany,  and 


all  the  resident  nobility  in  Switzerland. 
He  begs  to  inform  the  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  this  city,  that  he  has  selected  St. 
James's-hill  and  the  adjoining  hills  for  his 
performances,  and  will  first  display  his 
remarkable  strength,  in  running  up  the 
hill  with  his  Tyrolese  pole  between  his 
teeth.  He  will  next  lay  on  his  back,  and 
balance  the  same  pole  on  his  nose,  chin, 
and  different  parts  of  his  body.  He  will 
climb  up  on  it  with  the  astonishing  swift- 
ness of  a  cat,  and  stand  on  his  head  at  the 
top ;  on  a  sudden  he  will  leap  three  feet 
from  the  pole  without  falling,  suspending 
himself  by  a  shenese  cord  only.  He  will 
also  walk  on  his  head,  up  and  down  the 
hill,  balancing  his  pole  on  one  foot.  Many 
other  feats  will  be  exhibited,  in  which 
signor  Villecrop  will  display  to  the  au- 
dience the  much  admired  art  of  toppling, 
peculiar  only  to  the  peasantry  of  Switzer- 
land. He  will  conclude  his  performance 
by  repeated  flights  in  the  air,  up  and 
down  the  hill,  with  a  velocity  almost  im- 
perceptible, assisted  only  by  his  pole,  with 
which  he  will  frequently  jump  the  aston- 
ishing distance  of  forty  and  fifty  yards  at 
a  time.  Signor  Villecrop  begs  to  assure 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  honour  him 
with  their  company,  that  no  money  will 
be  collected  till  after  the  exhibition,  feel- 
ing convinced  that  his  exertions  will  be  li- 
berally rewarded  by  their  generosity.  The 
exhibition  to  commence  on  Monday,  the 
28th  of  August,  1826,  precisely  at  half- 
past  5  o'clock  in  the  evening." 

Signor  Carlo  Gram  Villecrop  did  not 
make  his  appearance.  The  people  were 
drawn  together,  and  the  whole  ended,  as 
the  inventor  designed,  in  a  "hoax." 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature    ....  61 


55. 


St.  John  Baptist  beheaded. 

The  anniversary  of  the  baptist's  decol- 
lation is  in  the  church  of  England  calen- 
dar. His  death  is  known  to  have  been 
occasioned  by  his  remonstrance  to  Herod 
against  his  notorious  cruelties.  "  In  con- 
sequence of  this,"  says  Mr.  Audley,  "  He- 
rod imprisoned  him  in  the  castle  of  Ma- 
chaerus,  and  would  have  put  him  to  death, 
but  was  afiaid  of  the  people.  Herodias 
also  would  have  killed  John,  had  it  been 
in  her  power.  At  length,  on  Herod's 
birthday,  Salome,  the  daughter  of  Hero 


1141 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  29. 


1142 


dias,  by  her  former  husband,  Philip, 
danced  before  him,  his  captains,  and  chief 
estates,  or  the  principal  persons  of  Gali- 
lee. This  so  pleased  Herod,  that  he 
"  promised  her,  with  an  oath,  whatsoever 
she  should  ask,  even  to  the  half  of  his 
kingdom."  Hearing  this,  she  ran  to  her 
mother  and  said,  "what  shall  I  ask?'' 
The  mother,  without  hesitation,  replied, 
"  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist."  Herod 
was  exceedingly  sorry  when  he  heard  such 
a  request ;  but  out  of  regard  to  his  oaths 
and  his  guests,  he  immediately  sent  an 
executioner  to  behead  John  in  prison. 
This  was  instantly  done,  and  the  head 
being  brought  in  a  charger,  was  given  to 
Salome ;  and  she,  forgetting  the  tender- 
ness of  her  sex,  and  the  dignity  of  her 
station,  carried  it  to  her  mother. 

Jerome  says,  that  "  Herodias  treated 
the  baptist's  head  in  a  very  disdainful 
manner,  pulling  out  the  tongue  which  she 
imagined  had  injured  her,  and  piercing  it 
with  a  needle."  Providence,  however,  as 
Dr.  Whitby  observes,  interested,  itself 
very  remarkably  in  the  revenge  of  this 
murder  on  all  concerned.  Herod's  army 
was  defeated  in  a  war  occasioned  by  his 
marrying  HeroJias,  which  many  Jews 
thought  a  judgment  on  him  for  the  death 
of  John.  Both  he,  and  Herodias,  whose 
ambition  occasioned  his  ruin,  were  after- 
wards driven  from  their  kingdom,  and 
died  in  banishment,  at  Lyons,  in  Gaul. 
And  if  any  credit  may  be  given  to  Nice- 
phorus,  Salome,  the  young  lady  who  made 
the  cruel  request,  fell  into  the  ice  as  she 
was  walking  over  it,  which,  closing  sud- 
denly, cut  off  her  head. 

It  is  added  by  Mr.  Audley,  that  the 
abbot  Villeloin  says  in  his  memoirs, 
"  the  head  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  was  sa- 
luted by  him  at  Amiens,  and  it  was  the 
fifth  or  sixth  he  had  had  the  honour  to 
kiss." 


ARCHBISHOP  CHICHELEY. 

Lord  Orford,  in  a  letter  dated  the  29th 
of  August,  says,  "  I  have  just  been  read- 
ing a  new  public  history  of  the  colleges  of 
Oxford,  by  Anthony  Wood,  and  there 
found  a  feature  in  a  character  that  always 
offended  me,  that  of  archbishop  Chicheley, 
who  prompted  Henry  V.  to  the  invasion 
of  France,  to  divert  him  from  squeezing 
the  overgrown  clergy.  When  that  priest 
meditated  founding  All  Souls  college,  and 
'  consulted  hi.s  friends,  who  seem  to  have 
been  honest  men;  what  great  matters  of 


piety  he  had  best  perform  to  God  in  his 
old  age,  he  was  advised  by  them  to  build 
an  hospital  for  the  wounded  and  sick 
soldiers,  that  daily  returned  from  the  wars 
then  had  in  France.'  I  doubt  his  grace's 
friends  thought  as  I  do  of  his  artifice. — 
'But,'  continues  the  historian,  'disliking 
these  motions,  and  valuing  the  welfare  of 
the  deceased  more  than  the  wounded  and 
diseased,  he  resolved  with  himself  to  pro- 
mote his  design — which  was  to  have  mass- 
es said  for  the  king,  queen,  and  himself, 
&c.,  while  living,  and  for  their  souls  when 
dead  ;'  and  that  mummery,  the  old  foolish 
rogue,  thought  more'  efficacious  than  oint- 
ments and  medicines  for  the  wretches  he 
had  made  !  and  of  the  chaplains  and  clerks 
he  instituted  in  that  dormitory,  one  was 
to  teach  grammar,  and  another  prick 
song.  How  history  makes  one  shudder 
and  laugh  by  turns  !" 


AN  ECCENTRIC  CHARACTER. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, — I  trouble  you  with  an  account  ot 
an    eccentric  character,  which  may,  per- 
haps, amuse  some  of  your  numerous  rea- 
ders, if  it  should  meet  your  approbation. 
Yours,  most  respectfully, 

C.  C y,  M.  R.  C.  S.  E. 

Ashton  Under  Lyne, 
July  \7th,  1826. 

BILLY  BUTTERWORTH. 

Near  the  summit  of  a  small  hill,  called 
Gladwick  Lowes,  situated  on  the  borders 
of  Lancashire,  near  the  populous  town  of 
Oldham,  commanding  a  very  extensive 
prospect,  stands  the  solitary,  yet  cele- 
brated hut  of  "  Billy  Butterworth."  The 
eccentric  being  who  bears  this  name  from 
his  manner  of  dressing  an  immense  beard 
reaching  to  his  girdle,  and  many  other 
singularities,  has  obtained  the  name  of 
the  "hermit,"  though  from  the  great 
numbers  that  daily  and  hourly  visit  him 
from  all  parts,  he  has  no  real  claim  to  the 
title. 

Billy  Butterworth's  hut  is  a  rude  build- 
ing of  his  own  construction,  a  piece  of 
ground  having  been  given  him  for  the 
purpose.  In  the  building  of  this  hut,  the 
rude  hand  of  uncultivated  nature  laughed 
to  scorn  the  improvements  of  modern 
times,  for  neither  saw,  nor  plane,  nor 
level,  nor  trowel,  assisted  to  make  it  ap- 
pear gracious  in  the  eye  of  taste;  a  rude 
heap  of  stones,  sods  of  earth,  moss,  &c. 
without  nails  or  mortar  iire  piled  to- 


1143 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  29. 


1144 


gether  in  an  inelegant,  but  perfectly  conve- 
nient manner,  and  form  a  number  of  apart- 
ments. The  whole  building  is  so  firmly  put 
together,  that  its  tenant  fears  not  the  pelt- 
ing of  a  merciless  storm,  but  snug  under 
nis  lowly  roof  appears  equally  content 
with  the  smiles  or  frowns  of  fortune. 

To  give  a  proper  description  of  the 
hermit's  hut,  would  be  very  difficult,  but 
a  brief  sketch  will  enable  the  reader  to 
form  a  pretty  good  idea  of  the  object.  It 
is  surrounded  by  a  fancy  and  kitchen 
garden,  fancifully  decorated  with  rude 
seats,  arches,  grottos,  &c.,  a  few  plaister 
of  Paris  casts  are  here  and  there  placed 
so  as  to  have  a  pleasing  effect.  The  outer 
part  of  the  hut  consists  of  the  hermit's 
chapel,  in  which  is  a  half-length  figure 
of  the  hermit  himself.  To  this  chapel  the 
hermit  retires  at  certain  hours,  in  devo- 
tion to  his  Maker ;  besides  the  chapel  is 
an  observatory,  where  the  hermit  amuses 
his  numerous  visiters,  by  exhibiting  a 
small  and  rather  imperfect  camera  obscu- 
ra  of  his  own  construction,  by  which  he  is 
enabled  to  explain  the  surrounding  coun- 
try for  four  or  five  miles.  Near  the  ca- 
mera obi-cura  is  a  raised  platform,  almost 
on  a  level  with  the  roof  of  the  hermitage — 
this  he  calls  "the  terracs."  From  the 
terrace  there  is  a  beautiful  view  of  coun- 
try.— The  towns  of  Ashton-under-Lyne, 
Stockport,  Manchester,  lie  in  the  distance, 
with  the  adjacent  villages,  and  the  line 
of  Yorkshire  hills,  from  among  which 
"  Wild  Bank"  rises  majestically  above 
its  neighbours".  The  hermit  makes  use  of 
this  situation,  to  give  signals  to  the  village 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  when  he  wishes  to 
be  supplied  with  any  article  of  provision 
for  the  entertainment  of  his  visiters,  such  as 
liquors,  cream,  sallads,  bread,  &c.;  of  con- 
fectionary, he  has  generally  a  good  stock. 

We  next  come  to  his  summer  arbours, 
which  are  numerous  in  his  garden, 
and  furnished  with  table  and  seats  for 
parties  to  enjoy  themselves  separately, 
without  interfering  with  others.  The 
dovehouse  is  placed  in  the  garden,  where 
he  keeps  a  few  beautiful  pairs  of  doves. 
Of  the  out-buildings,  the  last  we  shall 
describe,  is  the  carriage-house.  The 
reader  smiles  at  the  word  "  carriage"  in 
such  a  situation,  and  would  be  more  apt 
to  believe  me  had  I  said  a  wheel-barrow. 
But  no !  grave  reader,  "  Billy  Butter- 
worth"  runs  his  carriage,  which  is  of  the 
low  gig  kind,  drawn  by  an  ass,  and  on 
some  extra  visits,  by  two  asses.  A  little 
boy,  called  Adam,  is  the  postillion,  as 


there  is  only  seating  for  one  in  the  car- 
riage. The  boy  acts  as  a  waiter  in  busy 
times.  In  this  carriage  "  Billy  Butter- 
worth  "  visits  his  wealthy  neighbours,  and 
meets  with  a  gracious  reception.  He  fre- 
quently visits  the  earl  of  Stamford, 
earl  Je  Wilton,  &c.  &c.  From  his  gro- 
tesque dress  and  equipage,  he  excites 
mirth  to  a  great  degree. 

The  inner  part  of  this  hermit's  hut  con- 
sists of  many  different  apartments,  all  of 
which  are  named  in  great  style ;  such 
as  the  servants'  hall — pavilion — drawing- 
room — dining-room — library,  &c.  &c.  The 
walls  are  lined  with  drapery,  tastefully 
hung,  and  the  furniture  exhibits  nume- 
rous specimens  of  ancient  carved  wood- 
work. Pictures  of  all  sorts  from  the  genu- 
ine oil  painting,  &c.  prints  of  good  line 
engraving  down  to  the  common  caricature 
daubs,  are  numerously  hung  in  every  part 
of  the  hut.  Natural  curiosities  are  so 
placed,  as  to  excite  the  curiosity  of  the 
gazing  ignoramus. 

"  Billy  Butterworth"  is  himself  a  tall 
man,  of  rather  a  commanding  figure,  with 
dark  hair  and  dark  sparkling  eyes.  His 
countenance  is  of  a  pleasing  but  rather 
melancholy  appearance,  which  is  increased 
by  an  immensely  long  black  beard  which 
makes  him  an  object  of  terror  to  the  neigh- 
bouring children.  On  the  whole,  although 
he  is  now  in  the  evening  of  life,  the  re- 
mains of  a  once  handsome  man  are  very 
evident.  His  dress  is  varied  according  to 
the  seasons,  but  always  resembling  the 
costume  in  king  Charles's  days ;  a  black 
cap,  black  ostrich  feather  and  buckle,  long 
waistcoat,  jacket  with  silk  let  into  the 
sleeves,  small  clothes  of  the  same,  and 
over  the  whole  a  short  mantle. 

"  Billy  Butterworth"  has  practised  these 
whims,  if  I  may  call  them  so,  for  twelve  or 
fourteen  years  in  this  solitary  abode.  His 
reason  for  this  manner  of  life  is  not  ex- 
actly known,  but  he  seems  to  acknowledge 
in  some  degree,  that  a  disappointment  in 
love  has  been  the  cause.  Let  that  rest  as 
it  will,  he  has  a  handsome  property,  accu- 
mulated, it  is  said,  by  these  eccentric 
means.  Indeed  he  acknowledged  to  the 
author  of  this,  that  on  fine  days  in  summer, 
he  has  realized  from  selling  sweetmeats, 
and  receiving  gifts  from  visiters,  five 
guineas  a  day.  He  is  so  independent 
now  that  he  will  not  receive  a  present 
from  friends.  He  is  communicative  as 
long  as  a  stranger  will  listen,  but  if  the 
stranger  is  inquisitive  he  ceases  to  con 
verse  any  thing  more.  He  is  polite  and 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  29. 


1145 

well  informed  on  general  topics,  and  has 
evidently  read  much. 

While  the  hermit  was  lately  on  a  journey 
to  his  friends,  a  mischievous  wag  adver- 
tised "  the  hut,"  &c.  to  be  let.  The  day 
fixed  upon  being  rainy,  no  bidders  made 
their  appearance.  I  send  you  a  copy  of 
the  advertisement  from  a  printed  one  in 
my  possession. 

To  BE  LET, 

For  a  term  of  years,  or  from  year  to 
year;  and  may  be  entered  upon  imme- 
diately, all  that  hut,  garden,  and  premises, 
with  the  appurtenances,  situate  at  Glad- 
wick  Lowes,  near  Oldham,  in  the  county 
of  Lancaster,  now  occupied  as  an 

HERMITAGE, 

By  Mr.  Wm.  Butterworth. 
This  romantic  spot  being  the  only  place 
of  fashionable  resort  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
populous  town  of  Oldham,  and  the  unri- 
valled reputation  which  it  has  so  long  de- 
servedly enjoyed,  render  it  peculiar  de- 
sirable to  any  gentleman  who  may  wish 
to  acquire  an  independency  at  a  trifling 
risk.  The  motive  for  the  intended  re- 
moval of  the  present  proprietor  is,  his 
having  already  secured  a  comfortable  com- 
petency, joined  to  a  desire  of  giving  some 
gentleman  of  a  disposition  similar  to  his 
own,  an  opportunity  of  participating  in 
the  advantages  which  he  has  so  long  de- 
rived from  this  delightful  retirement. 

Among  the  many  curiosities  with  which 
his  sequestered  hut  abounds,  may  be  par- 
ticularized the  following  valuable  articles. 

His  celebrated  self-constructed  Bed. 

A  Table, 

whicYi  is  supposed  formerly  to  have  be- 
longed to  some  of  the  ancient  saxon  mo- 
narchs,  arid  was  presented  to  Mr.  B.,  by 
her  grace  the  duchess  of  Beaufort. 

Praxi  tele's  stature  of  Jupiter  Ammon, 
brought  from  Greece,  by  the  right  honour- 
able the  earl  of  Elgin,  and  came  into  the 
hands  of  the  present  possessor,  through 
the  medium  of  the  duke  of  Devonshire, 
after  it  had,  for  a  considerable  period, 
formed  one  of  the  most  permanent  orna- 
ments of  his  grace's  splendid  mansion, 
Chatsworth  house. 

A  capital  portrait  of  Mrs.  Siddons, 
painted  by  B.  West,  Esq.,  P.  R.  A. 


114d 


A  most  excellent  and  peculiarly  coiv 
structed  Camera  Obscura,  which  distinctly 
represents  objects  at  the  distance  of  thirty 
miles. 

A  sonorous  Speaking  Trumpet,  wonder- 
fully adapted  to  the  present  situation. 

A  brace  of  pistols,  formerly  the  property 
of  Blind  Jack  of  Knaresborough,  by  whom 
they  were  cut  out  of  solid  rock. 

A  very  ancient  and  most  curious  Treb- 
duchet,  a  relic  of  Ptolemy  the  Third's  Sar- 
cophagus. 

A  variety  of  coins,  medals,  shells,  fossils, 
and  other  mineral  productions,  tastefully 
classified  and  arranged. 

It  would  be  very  desirable  if  the  above 
could  be  disposed  of  with  the  hermitage, 
but  if  not,  Mr.  B.  would  be  willing  to 
enter  into  a  separate  agreement  for  them. 
For  further  particulars,  apply  to  Mr.  W.  B. 

N.B.  The  stock  of  pop,  peppermint,  gin- 
gerbread, and  Eccles  cakes,  with  the  sign- 
boards, dials,  inscriptions,  rams'  horns, 
and  other  tasteful  and  appropriate  deco- 
rations, will  be  required  to  be  taken  at  a 
valuation. 

To  be  let  Monday  August  29  1825. 


A  HOAX  "!N  CHANCERY-." 

There  is  a  spirit  of  waggery  which  con- 
tributes to  public  amusement,  and  occa- 
sionally annoys  individual  repose.  The 
following  lines  are  in  a  journal  of  this 
day  1826. 

A  VISION. 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  CHRISTABEL. 

"  Up !"  said  the  spirit,  and  ere  I  could  pray 

One  hasty  orison,  whirl' d  me  away 

To  a  limbo,  lying — T  wist  not  where — 

Above  or  below,  in  earth  or  air  ; 

All  glimmering  o'er  with  a  doubtful  light, 

One  couldn't  say  whether  'twas  day  or  night ; 

And  crost  by  many  a  mazy  track, 

One  didn't  know  how  to  get  on  or  back  ; 

And  I  felt  like  a  needle  that's  going  astrav 

(With  its  one  eye  out)  through  a  bundle  of 

hay: 

When  the  spirit  he  grinn'd,  and  whisper'd  me, 
"  Thou'rt  now  in  the  Court  of  Chancery !" 

Around  me  flitted  unnumber'd  swarms 
Of  shapeless,  bodiless,  tailless  forms  ; 
(Like  bottled-up  babes,  that  grace  the  room 
Of  that  worthy  knight,  sir  Everard  Home) — 
All  of  them,  things  half -kill' d  in  i  earing  ; 
Some  were  lame — some  wanted  hearing  ; 
Some  had  through  half  a  century  run, 
Though  they  had'nt  a  leg  to  stand  upon. 


1147 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— ACGUST  3O. 


Others,  more  merry,  as  just  beginning, 
Around  on  *  point  of  law  were  spinning  ; 
Or  balanced  aloft,  'iwixt  Bill  and  Answer, 
Lead  at  each  end,  like  a  tight  rope  dancer. — 
Some  were  so  crow,  that  nothing  could  please 


Some  gulp'd  down  affidavits  to  ease  'em  ; 
All  were  in  motion,  yet  never  a  one, 
let  it  move  as  it  might,  could  ever  move  on. 
"  These,"  said  the  spirit,  "  you  plainly  see, 
"  Are  what  they  call  suits  in  Chancery!" 

I  heard  a  loud  screaming  of  old  and  young, 

Like  a  chorus  by  fifty  YellunV  sung  ; 

Or  an  Irish  dump  ("  the  words  by  Moore") 

At  an  amateur  concert  screara'd  in  score  ;— 

So  harsh  on  my  ear  that  wailing  fell 

Of  the  wretches  who  in  this  limbo  dwell ! 

It  seem'd  like  the  dismal  symphony 

Of  the  shapes  .Eneas  in  hell  did  see ; 

Or  those  frogs,  whose  legs  a  barbarous  cook 

Cut  off  and  left  the  frogs  in  the  brook, 

To  cry  all  night,  till  life's  last  dregs, 

"  Give  us  our  legs  ! — give  us  our  legs !" 

Touched  with  the  sad  and  sorrowful  scene, 

I  ask'd  what  all  this  yell  might  mean, 

When  the  spirit  replied  with  a  grin  of  glee, 

"  'Tis  the  cry  of  the  suitors  in  Chancery  !" 

I  look'd,  and  I  saw  a  wizard  rise, 
With  a  wig  like  a  cloud  before  men's  eyes. 
In  his  aged  hand  he  held  a  wand, 
Wherewith  he  beckoned  his  embryo  hand. 
And  then  mov'd  and  mov'd,  as  he  wav'd  it  o'er, 
But  they  never  got  on  one  inch  more, 
And  still  they  kept  limping  to  and  fro, 
Like  Ariels'  round  old  Prospero  — 
Saying,  "  dear  master,  let  us  go," 
Bu't  still  old  Prospero  answer'd  ««  No." 
And  I  heard,  the  while,  that  wizard  elf, 
Muttering,  muttering  spells  to  himself, 
While  over  as  many  old  papers  he  turn'd, 
As  Hume  e'er  moved  for  or  Omar  bura'd. 
He  talk'd  of  his    virtue — though  some,  lest 

nice, 

(He  own'd  with  a  sigh)  preferr'd  his  Fice— 
And  he  said,  "I  think"—"  I  doubt"- «  I 

hope"- 

CalTd  God  to  witness,  and  damn'd  the  Pope ; 
With  many  more  sleights  of  tongue  and  hand 
I  could'nt,  for  the  soul  of  me,  understand. 
Amaz'd  and  por'd,  I  was  just  about 
To  ask  his  name,  when  the  screams  without 
The  merciless  clack  of  the  imps  within, 
And  that  conjurer's  mutterings,  made  such  a 

din, 

Thai,  startled,  I  woke — leap'd  up  in  my  bed — 
Found  the  spirit,  the  imps,  and  the  conjurer  fled, 
And  bless'd  my  stars,  right  pleas' d  to  see, 
That  I  was'nt,  as  yet,  in  Chancery. 

For  several  years  before  the  appear- 
ance of  his  solemn  u  Aids  to  Reflection** 
in  1825,  Mr.  Coleridge  had  been  to  the 
world  "  as  though  he  was  not ;"  and  since 


that  "  Hand-book"  of  masterly  si\ 
his  voice  has  ceased  from  'he  public.  For- 
gotten he  could  not  be,  yet  when  he  vras 
remembered  it  was  by  inquiries  concern- 
ing his  present  "  doings,"  and  whispers  01 
his  "whereabout.".  On  a  sudden  the  pre- 
ceding verses  startle  the  dull  town,  and 
dwelling  on  the  lazy  ear,  as  being,  accord- 
ing to  their  printed  ascription,  "by  the 
author  of  Christabel."  In  vindication  of 
himself  against  the  misconception  of  the 
wit  of  their  real  author,  the  imputed  pa- 
rent steps  forth  in  the  following  note. 

To  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  TIMES. 
Grove,  Highgate,  Tuesday  Evening. 

Sir, — I  have  just  received  a  note  from  a 
city  friend,  respecting  a  poem  in  "The 
Times"  of  this  morning  ascribed  to  me. 
On  consulting  the  paper,  I  see  he  must 
refer  to  "  A  Vision,"  by  the  author  of 
"  Christabel."  Now,  though  I  should 
myself  have  interpreted  these  words  as 
the  author,  I  doubt  not,  intended  them, 
viz.,  as  a  part  of  the  fiction  ;  yet  with  the 
proof  before  me  that  others  will  under- 
stand them  literally,  I  should  feel  obliged 
by  your  stating,  that  till  this  last  half  hour 
the  poem  and  its  publication  were  alike 
unknown  to  me ;  and  I  remain,  Sir,  re- 
spectfully yours,  S.  T.  COLERIDGE. 

This  little  "affair"  exemplifies  that  it 
is  the  fortune  of  talent  to  be  seldom  com 
prehended. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  45 


CHRONOLOGY. 

August  30, 1750.  Miss  Flora  Macdo- 
nald  was  married  to  a  gentleman  of  the 
same  name  related  to  sir  Alexander  Mac- 
donald,  bart.  This  lady  is  celebrated  in 
Scottish  annals  for  hating  heroically  and 
successfully  assisted  the  young  Pretender 
to  escape,  when  a  price  was  set  upon  his 
head.  Her  self-devotion  is  minutely  re- 
corded in  the  late  Mr.  Boswell's  "  Asca- 
nius,**  and  Johnson  has  increased  her 
fame  by  his  notice  of  her  person  and  cha- 
racter, 'in  his  "  Tour  to  the  Hebrides." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  62  •  95. 


THE  KVKllY-DAY  DOOK.—AUGUST  31. 


1150 


31. 

GRASSHOPPERS. 

It  was  observed  at  the  end  of  August, 
1742,  great  damage  was  done  to  the  pas- 
tures in  the  country,  particularly  about 
Bristol  by  swarms  of  grasshoppers ;  and 
the  like  happened  in  the  same  year  at 
Pennsylvania  to  a  surprising  degree.* 

In  1476,  "  Grasshoppers  and  the  great 
rising  t.f  the  river  Isula  did  spoyle  al  Po- 
land.'^ 

Grasshoppers  are  infested  by  a  species 
of  "  insect  parasites'*  thicker  than  a  horse 
hair,  and  of  a  brown  colour.  It  consumes 
the  intestines,  and  at  first  sight  in  the 
body  of  the  grasshopper,  has  been  mis- 
taken for  the  intestines  themselves. 

The  eminent  entomologist  who  men- 
tions this  fact,  observes  that  "  insects  ge- 
nerally answer  the  most  beneficial  ends, 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

*  Bu'e man's  Doome. 


and  promote  in  various  ways,  and  in  an 
extraordinary  degree,  the  welfare  of  man 
and  animals."  The  evils  resulting  from 
them  occur  partially  when  they  abound 
beyond  their  natural  limits,  "God  per- 
mitting this  occasionally  to  take  place, 
not  merely  with  punitive  views,  but  also 
to  show  us  what  mighty  effects  he  can 
produce  by  instruments  seemingly  the 
most  insignificant :  thus  calling  upon  us 
to  glorify  his  power,  wisdom,  and  good- 
ness, so  evidently  manifested,  whether  he 
relaxes  or  draws  tight  the  reins  by  which 
he  guides  insects  in  their  course,  and  re- 
gulates their  progress  ;  and  more  particu- 
larly to  acknowledge  his  overruling  Pro- 
vidence so  conspicuously  exhibited  by  his 
measuring  them,  as  it  were,  and  weighing 
them,  and  taking  .them  out,  so  that  their 
numbers,  forces,  and  powers,  being  annu- 
ally proportioned  to  the  work  he  has  pre- 
scribed to  them,  they  may  neither  exceed 
his  purpose,  nor  fall  short  of  it."  * 

•  Kirby  and  Spence'»  Entomology. 


THE  VALLEY  OF  NIGHTINGALES. 
A  Scene  near  the  Hotwells,  Bristol. -f 

u  Then  said  I,  master,  pleasant  is  this  place 
And  sweet  are  those  melodious  notes  I  hear ; 

And  happy  they,  among  man's  toiling  race, 
Who,  of  their  cares  forgetful,  wander  near." 


To  those  who  might  not  happen  to  know 
St.  Vincent's  rocks,  Clifton,  and  the  very 
beautiful  scenery  near  the  Hotwells,  Bris- 
tol, it  might  be  desirable  to  state  that  the 
river  Avon  winds  here  through  a  sinuous 
defile,  on  one  side  of  which  "  the  rocks" 
rise  perpendicularly  in  a  bold  yet  irre- 
gular manner,  to  the  height  of  many  hun- 


Bowles, 

dred  feet ;  the  opposke  side  is  not  so  bold, 
but  it  is,  nevertheless,  extremely  beautiful, 
being  clothed  in  many  places  with  wood, 
and  has  besides  a  VALLEY,  through  which 
you  may  ascend  to  Leigh  Down.  This 
valley  has  been  named  the  "Valley  of 
Nightingales"  no  doubt,  in  consequence 
of  those  birds  making  it  their  resort. 


"  Where  foliaged  full  in  vernal  pride 

Retiring  winds  thy  favourite  vale ; 
And  faint  the  moan  of  Avon's  tide," 

Remurmurs  to  the  nightingale." 

C.  A.  Elton's  Poems,  Disappointment. 


In  a  note,  Mr.  ELTON  informs  us  that 
this  stanza  alludes  to  the  "Valley  of 
Nightingales  opposite  St.  Vincent's  rocks 
at  Clifton."  The  lovers  of  the  picturesque 
will  here  find  ample  gratification.  If,  in 
the  following  poem,  the  truth  in  natural 
history  be  a  little  exceeded  in  reference 
to  a  troop  of  nightingales,  it  is  hoped  that 
the  poetical  licence  will  be  pardoned. 


The  vicinity  of  the  Hotwells  has  beer 
lately  much  improved  by  a  carriage  drive 
beneath  and  around  those  rocks. 


t  From  "  Ornithologia  ;  or  the  Birds,  a  Poem,  with 
an  introduction  to  their  natural  history,  and  copious 
notes,  by  James  Jennings,  author  of  Observations  on  the 
Dialects  of  the  West  of  England,"  <5'C.  fyc.  This  work 
has  been  fur  some  time  ready  for  the  press,  but  its 
appearance  is  delayed  in  consequence  of  the  depress- 
ed state  of  trade. 


1151  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— AUGUST  31.  1152 

Seest  them  yon  tall  ROCKS  where,  midst  sunny  light  beaming, 

They  lift  up  their  heads  and  look  proudly  around  ; 
While  numerous  choughs,  with  their  cries  shrill  and  screaming, 

Wheel  from  crag  unto  crag,  and  now.  o'er  the  profound  ? 

Seest  thou  yonder  VALLEY  where  gushes  the  fountain  ; 

Where  the  nightingales  nestling  harmoniously  sing ; 
Where  the  mavis  and  merle  and  the  merry  lark  mounting, 

In  notes  of  wild  music,  now  welcome  the  spring. 

Seest  thou  yonder  shade,  where  the  woodbine  ascending, 

Encircles  the  hawthorn  with  amorous  twine, 
With  the  bryony  scandent,  in  gracefulness  blending ; 

What  sweet  mingled  odours  scarce  less  then  divine ! 

Hearest  thou  the  blue  ring-dove  in  yonder  tree  cooing ; 

The  red-breast,  the  hedge-sparrow,  warble  their  song ; 
The  cuckoo,  with  sameness  of  note  ever  wooing ; 

Yet  ever  to  pleasure  such  notes  will  belong  ! 

And  this  is  the  VALLEY  OF  NIGHTINGALES; — listen 

To  those  full-swelling  sounds,  with  those  pauses  between, 

Where  the  bright  waving  shrubs,  midst  the  pale  hazels,  glisten, 
There  oft  may  a  troop  of  the  songsters  be  seen. 

Seest  thou  yon  proud  ship  on  the  stream  adown  sailing, 
O'er  ocean,  her  course,  to  strange  climes  she  now  bends ; 

Oh !  who  may  describe  the  deep  sobs  or  heart-wailing 
Her  departure  hath  wrought  amongst  lovers  and  friends? 

The  rocks  now  re-echo  the  songs  of  the  sailor 

As  he  cheerfully  bounds  on  his  watery  way; 
But  the  maiden  ! — ah !  what  shall  that  echo  avail  her, 

When  absence  and  sorrow  have  worn  out  the  day? 

Behold  her  all  breathless,  still  gazing,  pursuing, 

And  waving,  at  times,  with  her  white  hand  adieu ; 
On  the  rock  now  she  sits,  with  fixed  eye,  the  ship  viewing ', 

No  picture  of  fancy — but  often  too  true. 

Dost  thou  see  yon  flush'd  HECTIC,  of  health  poor  remainder, 

With  a  dark  hollow  eye,  and  a  thin  sunken  cheek  ; 
While  AFFECTION  hangs  o'er  him  with  thoughts  that  have  pained  her, 

And  that  comfort  and  hope,  still  forbid  her  to  speak  ?  * 

Yes,  FRIENDSHIPS  !  AFFECTIONS  !  ye  ties  the  most  tender! 

Fate,  merciless  fate,  your  connection  will  sever ; 
To  that  tyrant  remorseless — all,  all  must  surrender ! 

I  once  had  a  SON — HERE  we  parted  for  everlf 

Now  the  sun,  o'er  the  earth,  rides  in  glory  uncloud 

The  rocks  and  the  valleys  delightedly  sing; 
The  BIRDS  in  wild  concert,  in  yonder  wood  shrouded, 

Awake  a  loud  CHORUS  to  welcome  the  spring. 

And  this  is  the  valley  of  nightingales; — listen 

To  those  full-swelling  sounds,  with  those  pauses  between, 

Where  the  bright  waving  shrubs,  midst  the  pale  hazels,  glisten, 

There  oft  may  a  troop  of  the  songsters  be  seen.  j. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  72. 

*  The  hot  wells  arc,  unfortunately,  too  often  the  last  resor1  of  the  consumptive, 
t  A  promising  youth  who  died  lome  years  *ince  at  Berliice. 


1143 


THE  EVEItY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1 134 


at  Jjatofeesfburp  on  Cotetoott 


The  last  in-gathering  of  the  crop 
Is  loaded,  and  they  climb  the  top, 
And  there  huzza  with  all  their  force, 
While  Ceres  mounts  the  foremost  horse  : 
"  Gee-up!"  the  rustic  goddess  cries, 
And  shouts  more  long  and  loud  arise  ; 
The  swagging  cart,  with  motion  slow, 
Reels  careless  on,  and  off  they  go  !  • 

HARVEST-BOMB  is   the  great  August        An  account  of  this  \miversal   menry- 
»«stiral  of  the  country.  making  may  commence  with  a  corrmunio 

II.  —  89, 


155 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1156 


cation  from  a  lady,  which  the  engraving 
is  designed  to  illustrate. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Westbury,  Wiltshire,  August  8,  1 826. 
Sir, — The  journal  from  whence  1  ex- 
tract the  following  scene  was  written 
nearly  two  years  ago,  during  a  delightful 
excursion  I  made  in  company  with  one 
"  near  and  dear,"  and  consequently 
before  your  praiseworthy  endeavours  to 
perpetuate  old  customs  had  been  made 
public.  Had  my  journey  taken  place 
during  the  present  harvest  month,  the 
trifle  I  now  send  should  have  been  better 
worth  your  perusal,  for  I  would  have 
investigated  for  your  satisfaction  a  local 
custom,  that  to  me  was  sufficiently  de- 
lightful in  a  passing  glance. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

I.J.T 

HAWKESBURY  HARVEST  HOME. 

September,  1824. — After  dinner,  at 
Wotton-under-edge,  we  toiled  up  the  side 
and  then  struck  off'  again  towards  the 
middle  of  the  hills,  leaving  all  beauty  in 
the  rear ;  and  from  thence,  until  our  arri- 
val at  Bath  the  next  day,  nothing  is 
worth  recording,  but  one  little  pleasing 
incident,  which  was  the  celebration  of  a 
harvest-home,  at  the  village  of  Hawkes- 
bury,  on  the  top  of  Cotswold. 

As  we  approached  the  isolated  hamlet, 
we  were  "  aware"  of  a  Maypole — that 
unsophisticated  trophy  of  innocence, 
gaiety,  and  plenty ;  and  as  we  drew  near, 
saw  that  it  was  decorated  with  flowers 
and  ribands  fluttering  in  the  evening 
breeze.  Under  it  stood  a  waggon  with 
its  full  complement  of  men,  women,  chil- 
dren, flowers,  and  corn ;  and  a  handsome 
team  of  horses  tranquilly  enjoying  their 
share  of  the  finery  and  revelry  of  the 
scene ;  for  scarlet  bows  and  sunflowers 
had  been  lavished  on  their  winkers  with 
no  niggard  hand.  On  the  first  horse 
sat  a  damsel,  no  doubt  intending  to  re- 
present Ceres ;  she  had  on,  of  course,  a 
white  dress  and  st"aw  bonnet — for  could 
Ceres  or  any  otner  goddess  appear  in  a 
rural  English  festival  in  any  other  cos- 
tume? A  broad  yellow  sash  encompassed 
a  waist  that  evinced  a  glorious  and  enor- 
mous contempt  for  classical  proportion 
and  modern  folly  in  its  elaborate  dimen- 
sions. 

During  the  rapid  and  cordial  glance 
that  1  gave  this  questionable  scion  of  «o 


graceful  a  stock,  I  ascertained  two  or 
three  circumstances — that  she  was  good- 
natured,  that  she  enjoyed  the  scene  as  a 
downright  English  joke,  and  that  she  had 
the  most  beautiful  set  of  teeth  I  ever 
beheld.  What  a  stigma  on  all  tooth- 
doctors,  tooth-powders,  and  tooth-brushes. 
There  was  something  very  affecting  in 
this  simple  festival,  and  I  felt  my  heart 
heave,  and  that  the  fields  looked  indis- 
tinct for  some  minutes  after  we  had  lost 
sight  of  its  primitive  appearance ;  how- 
ever it  may  now,  I  thought,  be  considered 
by  the  performers  as  a  "  good  joke,"  it 
had  its  origin,  doubtless,  in  some  of  the 
very  finest  feelings  that  can  adorn  huma- 
nity— hospitality,  sociality,  happiness, 
contentment,  piety,  and  gratitude. 

Our  fair  correspondent  adds  : — 
P.  S. — Intelligence  could  surely  be  ob- 
tained from  the  spot,  or  the  neighbour- 
hood, of  the  manner  of  celebrating  the 
festival ;  it  is  probably  peculiar  to  the 
range  of  the  Cotswold ;  and  a  more  ela- 
borate account  of  so  interesting  a  custom 
would,  doubtless,  be  valuable  to  yourself, 
sir,  as  well  as  to  your  numerous  readers. 
I  can  only  regret  that  my  ability  does  not 
equal  my  will,  on  this  or  any  other  sub- 
ject, that  would  forward  your  views  in 
publishing  your  admirable  Every-Day 
Book. 

The  editor  inserts  this  hint  to  his 
readers  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Cotswold, 
with  a  hope  that  it  will  induce  them  to 
oblige  him  with  particulars  of  what  is 
passing  under  their  eyes  at  this  season 
every  day.  He  repeats  that  accounts  of 
these,  or  any  other  customs  in  any  part  of 
the  kingdom,  will  be  especially  acceptable. 

Another  correspondent  has  obligingly 
complied  with  an  often  expressed  desire 
on  this  subject. 

HARVESTING  ON  SUNDAY. 

London,  August  4,  1826. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sir, — As  you  request,  on  the  wrapper 
of  your  last  part,  communications,  &c., 
respecting  harvest,  I  send  you  the  follow- 
ing case  of  a  very  singular  nature,  that 
came  before  the  synod  of  Glasgow  and 
Ayr. 

In  the  harvest  of  1807,  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  wet  weather.  At  the  end 
of  one  of  the  weeks  it  brightened  up,  and 
a  drying  wind  prepared  the  corn  foi 


1157 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1158 


being  housed.  The  rev.  Mr.  Wright, 
minister  of  Mayhole,  at  the  conclusion  of 
the  forenoon  service  on  the  following  sab- 
bath-day, stated  to  his  congregation,  that 
he  conceived  the  favourable  change  of  the 
weather  might  be  made  use  of  to  save  the 
harvest  on  that  day,  without  violating  the 
sabbath.  Several  of  his  parishioners  avail- 
ed themselves  of  their  pastor's  advice. 
At  the  next  meeting  of  presbytery,  how- 
ever, one  of  his  reverend  brethren  thought 
E roper  to  denounce  him,  as  having  vio- 
ited  the  fourth  commandment;  and  a 
solemn  inquiry  was  accordingly  voted  by 
a  majority  of  the  presbytery.  Against 
this  resolution,  a  complaint  and  appeal 
were  made  to  the  synod  at  the  last  meet- 
ing. Very  able  pleadings  were  made  on 
both  sides,  after  which  it  was  moved  and 
seconded, — "  That  the  synod  should  find 
that  the  presbytery  of  Ayr  have  acted  in 
this  manner,  in  a  precipitate  and  informal 
manner,  and  that  their  sentence  ought  to 
be  reversed."  It  was  also  moved  and  se- 
conded,— "  That  the  synod  find  the  presby- 
tery of  Ayr  have  acted  properly,  and  that 
it  should  be  remitted  to  them  to  take  such 
further  steps  in  this  business  as  they  may 
judge  best."  After  reasoning  at  consi- 
derable length,  the  synod,  without  a  vote, 
agreed  to  set  aside  the  whole  proceedings 
of  the  presbytery  in  this  business.* 

This  subject  reminds  me  of  the  follow- 
ing verses  to  urge  the  use  of  "  the  time 
present." 

DELAYS. 

By  Robert  Southwell,  1595. 
Shun  delays,  they  breed  remorse ; 

Take  thy  time,  while  time  is  lent  thee ; 
Creeping  snails  have  weakest  force  ; 

Fly  their  fault,  lest  thou  repent  thee ; 
Good  is  best,  when  soonest  wrought, 
Ling'ring  labours  come  to  naught. 

Hoist  up  sail  while  gale  doth  last, 

Tide  and  wind  stay  no  man's  pleasure; 
Seek  not  time,  when  time  is  past, 

Sober  speed  is  wisdom's  leisure. 
After  wits  are  dearly  bought, 
Let  thy  fore-wit  guide  thy  thought. 
Time  wears  all  his  locks  behind  ; 

Take  thou  hold  upon  his  forehead ; 
When  he  flies,  he  turns  no  more, 

And  behind  his  scalp  is  naked. 
Works  adjourn 'd  have  manv  stays; 
Long  demurs  breed  new  delays. 

I  am,  Sir, 

Your  obliged  and  constant  reader, 
R.  R. 

*  Literary  Panorama,  1807. 


We  are  informed  on  the  authority  of 
Macrobius,  that  among  the  heathens,  the 
masters  of  families,  when  they  had  got  in 
their  harvest,  were  wont  to  feast  with  their 
servants,  who  had  laboured  for  them  in 
tilling  the  ground.  In  exact  conformity 
to  this,  it  is  common  among  Christians, 
when  the  fruits  of  the  earth  are  gathered 
in,  and  laid  in  their  proper  repositories,  to 
provide  a  plentiful  supper  for  the  harvest 
men  and  the  servants  of  the  family.  At 
this  entertainment,  all  are  in  the  modern 
revolutionary  idea  of  the  word,  perfectly 
equal.  Here  is  no  distinction  of  persons, 
but  master  and  servant  sit  at  the  same 
table,  converse  freely  together,  and  spend 
the  remainder  of  the  night  in  dancing, 
singing,  &c.,  in  the  most  easy  familiarity. 
Bourne  thinks  the  origin  of  both  these 
customs  is  Jewish,  and  cites  Hospinian, 
who  tells  us  that  the  heathens  copied  after 
this  custom  of  the  Jews,  and  at  the  end 
of  their  harvest,  offered  up  their  first- 
fruits  to  the  gods,  for  the  Jews  rejoiced 
and  feasted  at  the  getting  in  of  the 
harvest. 

This  festivity  is  undoubtedly  of  the 
most  remote  antiquity.  That  men  in  all  na- 
tions, where  agriculture  flourished,  should 
have  expressed  their  joy  on  this  occasion 
by  some  outward  ceremonies,  has  its 
foundation  in  the  nature  of  things.  Sow- 
ing is  hope ;  reaping,  fruition  of  the  ex- 
pected good.  To  the  husbandman,  whom 
the  fear  of  wet,  blights,  &c.had  harrassed 
with  great  anxiety,  the  completion  of  his 
wishes  could  not  fail  of  imparting  an  en- 
viable feeling  of  delight.  Festivity  is  but 
the  reflex  of  inward  joy,  and  it  could 
hardly  fail  of  being  produced  on  this  oc 
casion,  which  is  a  temporary  suspension 
of  every  care.* 

Mr.  Brand  brings  a  number  of  pas- 
sages to  show  the  manner  of  celebrating 
this  season. 

One  of  the  "  Five  hundred  points  of 
husbandry"  relates  to  August. 

Grant    harvest-lord    more,    by   a  penny   or 

twoo, 

To  call  on  his  fellowes  the  better  to  doo : 
Give  gloves  to  thy  reapers  a  Larges  to  crie, 
And  daily  to  loiterers  have  a  good  eie. 

Ttaser. 

"Tusser  Redivivus,"  in  1744,  says, 
**  He  that  is  the  lord  of  harvest,  is  gene- 
rally some  stayed  sober-working  man, 
who  understands  all  sorts  of  harvest- work. 


*  Brand's  Popular  Antiquiti**. 


1159 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1160 


If  he  be  of  able  body,  he  commonly  leads 
the  swarth  in  reaping  and  mowing.  It  is 
customary  to  give  gloves  to  reapers,  es- 
pecially where  the  wheat  is  thistly.  As 
to  crying  a  Largess,  they  need  not  be  re- 
minded of  it  in  these  our  days,  whatever 
they  were  in  our  author's  time." 


Stevenson,  in  his  "  Twelve  Moneths," 
1661,  mentions  under  August,  that  "  the 
furmenty  pot  welcomes  home  the  har- 
vest cart,  and  the  garland  of  flowers 
crowns  the  captain  of  the  reapers;  the 
battle  of  the  field  is  now  stoutly  fought. 
The  pipe  and  the  tabor  are  now  busily 
set  a-work,  and  the  lad  and  the  lass  will 
have  no  lead  on  their  heels.  0 1  'tis  the 
merry  time  wherein  honest  neighbours 
make  good  cheer;  and  God  is  glorified  in 
his  blessings  on  the  earth." 


THE  HOCK  CART,  OR  HARVEST  HOME. 

Come  sons  of  summer,  by  whose  toile 
We  are  the  Lords  of  wine  and  oile ; 
Ey  whose  tough  labours,  and  rough  hands, 
We  rip  up  first,  then  reap  our  lands, 
Crown'd  with  the  eares  of  corne,  now  come, 
And,  to  the  pipe,  sing  harvest  home. 
Come  forth,  my  Lord,  and  see  the  cart, 
Dr§st  up  with  all  the  country  art. 
See  here  a  maukin,  there  a  sheet 
As  spotlesse  pure  as  it  is  sweet : 
The  horses,  mares,  and  frisking  fillies, 
Clad,  all,  in  linnen,  white  as  lillies, 
The  harvest  swaines  and  wenches  bound 
For  joy,  to  see  the  hock-cart  crown'd. 
About  the  cart  heare  how  the  rout 
Of  rural  younglings  raise  the.  shout ; 
Pressing  before,  some  coming  after, 
Those  with  a  shout,  and  these  with  laughter. 
Some  blesse  the  cart;  some  kisse  the  sheaves; 
Some  prank  them  up  tf ith  oaken  leaves : 
Some  crosse  the  fill-horse ;  some  with  great 
Devotion  stroak  the  home-borne  wheat  : 
While  other  rusticks,  lesse  attent 
To  prayers  than  to  merry m en t, 
Run  after  with  their  breeches  rent. 
Well,  on  brave  boyes,  to  your  Lord's  hearth 
Glitt'ring  with  fire,  where,  for  your  mirth, 
You  shall  see  first  the  large  and  cheefe 
Foundation  of  your  feast,  fat  beefe  : 
With  upper  stories,  mutton,  veale, 
A/»d  bacon,  which  makes  full  the  meale ; 
With  sev'rall  dishes  standing  fey, 
As  here  a  custard,  there  a  pie, 
And  here  all-tempting  frumenticj 
And  for  to  make  the  merrie  cheere 
If  smirking  wine  be  wanting  here, 
There's    that  which    drowns   all   eare.   stout 
beere 


Which  freely  drink  to  your  Lord's  health, 
Than  to  the  plough,  the  commonwealth ; 
Next  to  your  flailes,  your  fanes,  your  fatts 
Then  to  the  maids  with  wheaten  hats ; 
To  the  rough  sickle,  and  the  crookt  sythe 
Drink,  frollick,  boyes,  till  all  be  blythe, 
Feed  and  grow  fat,  and  as  ye  eat, 
Be  mindfull  that  the  lab'ring  neat, 
As  you,  may  have  their  full  of  meat; 
And  know,  besides,  ye  must  revoke 
The  patient  oxe  unto  the  yoke, 
And  all  goe  back  unto  the  plough 
And  harrow,  though  they're  hang'd  up  now. 
And,  you  must  know,  your  Lord's  word's  true, 
Feed  him  ye  must,  whose  food  fils  you. 
And  that  this  pleasure  is  like  raine, 
Not  sent  ye  for  to  drowne  your  paiue. 
But  for  to  make  it  spring  againe. 

Herrick. 


Hoacky  is  brought 

Home  with  hallowin, 
Boys  with  plumb-cake 

The  cart  following. 

Poor  Robin,  1676. 


Mr.  Brand  says,  "  the  respect  shown  to 
servants  at  this  season,  seems  to  have  sprung 
from  a  grateful  sense  of  their  good  services. 
Every  thing  depends  at  this  juncture  on 
their  labour  and  despatch.  Vacina,  (or 
Vacuna,  so  called  as  it  is  said  a  vacando, 
the  tutelar  deity,  as  it  were,  of  rest  and 
ease,)  among  the  ancients,  was  the  name 
of  the  goddess  to  whom  rustics  sacrificed 
at  the  conclusion  of  harvest.  Mo-esin 
tells  us,  that  popery,  in  imitation  of  this, 
brings  home  her  chaplets  of  corn,  which 
she  suspends  on  poles,  that  offerings  are 
made  on  the  altars  of  her  tutelar  gods, 
while  thanks  are  returned  for  the  collected 
stores,  and  prayers  are  made  for  fu- 
ture ease  and  rest.  Images  too  of  straw 
or  stubble,  he  adds,  are  wont  to  be  carried 
about  on  this  occasion ;  and  that  in  Eng- 
land he  himself  saw  the  rustics  bringing 
home  in  a  cart,  a  figure  made  of  corn, 
round  which  men  and  women  were  sing- 
ing promiscuously,  preceded  by  a  drum  or 
piper." 

The  same  collector  acquaints  us  that 
Newton,  in  his  "  Tryall  of  a  Man's  owne 
Selfe,"  (12mo.  London,  1602,)  under 
breaches  of  the  second  commandment, 
censures  "  the  adorning  with  garlands,  or 
presenting  unto  any  image  of  any  saint 
whom  thou  hast  made  speciall  choice  of 
to  be  thy  patron  and  advocate,  the  first- 
lings of  thy  increase,  as  corne  and  graine, 
and  other  oblations.' 


net 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


Ceres. 

As  we  were  returning,  says  Hentzner, 
in  1598,  to  our  inn,  we  happened  to  meet 
some  country  people  celebrating  their 
harvest-home ;  their  last  load  of  corn  they 
crown  with  flowers,  having  besides  an 
image  richly  dressed,  by  which  perhaps 
they  would  signify  Ceres.  This  they  keep 
moving  about,  while  men  and  women, 
men  and  maid-servants,  riding  through 
the  streets  in  the  cart,  shout  as  loud  as 
they  can  till  they  arrive  at  the  barn. 

**  I  have  seen,"  says  Hutchinson  in  his 
"  History  of  Northumberland,"  "  in  some 
places,  an  image  apparelled  in  great 
finery,  crowned  with  flowers,  a  sheaf  of 
corn  placed  under  her  arm,  and  a  scycle 
in  her  hand,  carried  out  of  the  village  in 
the  morning  of  the  conclusive  reaping  day, 
with  music  and  much  clamour  of  the 
reapers,  into  the  field,  where  it  stands 
fixed  on  a  pole  all  day,  and  when  the 
reaping  is  done,  is  brought  home  in  like 
manner.  This  they  call  the  harvest  queen, 
and  it  represents  the  Roman  Ceres." 

Mr.  Brand  says,  "  an  old  woman,  who 
in  a  case  of  this  nature  is  respectable  au- 
thority, at  a  village  in  Northumberland, 
informed  me  that  not  half  a  century  ago, 
they  used  every  where  to  dress  up  some- 
thing similar  to  the  figure  above  described, 
(by  Hutchinson,)  at  the  end  of  harvest, 
which  was  called  a  harvest  doll,  or  kern 
baby.  This  northern  word  is  plainly  a 
corruption  of  corn  baby,  or  image,  as  is 
the  kern  supper,  of  coi  n  supper.  In  Carew's 
'  Survey  of  Cornwall,'  p.  20.  b.  •  an  ill 
kerned  or  saved  harvest '  occurs." 

At  Wellington  in  Devonshire,  the 
clergyman  of  the  parish  informed  Mr. 
Brand,  that  "when  a  farmer  finishes  his 
reaping,  a  small  quantity  of  the  ears  of 
the  last  corn  are  twisted  or  tied  together 
into  a  curious  kind  of  figure,  which  is 
brought  home  with  great  acclamations, 
hung  up  over  the  table,  and  kept  till  the 
next  year.  The  owner  would  think  it  ex- 
tremely unlucky  to  part  with  this,  which 
is  called  "  a  knack."  The  reapers  whoop 
and  hollow  "  a  knack  !  a  knack  !  well  cut ! 
well  bound  !  well  shocked  !''  and,  in  some 
places,  in  a  sort  of  mockery  it  is  added, 
"  well  scattered  on  the  ground."  A 
countryman  gave  a  somewhat  different 
account,  as  follows  :  "  When  they  have 
cut  the  corn,  the  reapers  assemble  to- 
gether :  '  a  knack '  is  made,  which  one 
placed  in  the  middle  of  the  company  holds 


up,  crying  thrice  *  a  knack/  which  all  the 
rest  repeat :  the  person  in  the  middle  then 
says — 

«  Well  cut !  well  hound  ! 

Well  shocked  !  well  saved  from  the  ground.1 

He  afterwards  cries  *  whoop,'  and  his 
companions  holloo  as  loud  as  they  can.'* 

"  I  have  not,"  says  Mr.  Brand,  "  the 
most  distant  idea  of  the  etymology  of  the 
'  knack,'  used  on  this  occasion.  I  applied 
for  one  of  them.  No  farmer  would  part 
with  that  which  hung  over  his  table  ;  but 
one  was  made  on  purpose  for  me.  1 
should  suppose  that  Moresin  alludes  to 
something  like  this  when  he  says,  *  Et 
spiceas  papatus  (habet)  coronas,  quas 
videre  est  in  domibus/  &c." 


It  is  noticed  by  Mr.  Brand,  that  Purchas 
in  his  "  Pilgrimage,"  speaking  of  the  Pe- 
ruvian superstitions,  and  quoting  Acosta, 
tells  usj  "  In  the  sixth  moneth  they  offered 
a  hundred  sheep  of  all  colours,  and  then 
made  a  feast,  bringing  the  mayz  from  the 
fields  into  the  house,  which  they  yet  use. 
This  feast  is  made,  coming  from  the  farm 
to  the  house,  saying  certain  songs,  and 
praying  that  the  mayz  may  long  continue. 
They  put  a  quantity  of  the  mayz  (the  best 
that  groweth  in  their  farms)  in  a  thing 
which  they  call  pirva,  with  certain  cere- 
monies, watching  three  nights.  Then  do 
they  put  it  in  the  richest  garment  they 
have,  and,  being  thus  wrapped  and 
dressed,  they  worship  this  pirva,  holding 
it  in  great  veneration,  and  saying,  it  is  the 
mother  of  the  mayz  of  their  inheritance, 
and  that  by  this  means  the  mayz  augments 
and  is  preserved.  In  this  moneth  they 
make  a  particular  sacrifice,  and  the 
witches  demand  of  this  pirva  if  it  hath 
strength  enough  to  continue  until  the  next 
year ;  and  if  it  answers  no,  then  they 
carry  this  maiz  to  the  farm  whence  it  was 
taken,  to  burn,  and  make  another  pirva  as 
before  :  and  this  foolish  vanity  still  con- 
tinueth." 

On  this  Peruvian  "  pirva,"  the  rev.  Mr. 
Walter,  fellow  of  Christ's-college,  Cam- 
bridge, observes  to  Mr.  Brand,  that  it 
bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  what  is 
called  in  Kent,  an  ivy  girl,  which  is  a 
figure  composed  of  some  of  the  best  corn 
the  field  produces,  and  made,  as  well  as 
they  can,  into  a  human  shape ;  this  is 
afterwards  curiously  dressed  by  the  wo- 
men,  and  adorned  with  paper  trimmings, 
cut  to  resemble  a  cap,  ruffles,  hairdker- 


1163 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1164 


chief,  &c.  of  the  finest  lace.  It  is  brought 
home  with  the  last  load  of  corn  from  the 
field  upon  the  waggon,  and  they  suppose 
entitles  them  to  a  supper  at  the  expense 
of  their  employers. 


"  Crying  the  Mare" 
This  custom  is  mentioned  by  Mr.  Brand 
as  existing  in  Hertfordshire  and  Shrop- 
shire. The  reapers  tie  together  the  tops 
of  the  last  blades  of  corn,  which  they 
call  "  mare,"  and  standing  at  some  dis- 
tance, throw  their  sickles  at  it,  and  he  who 
cuts  the  knot,  has  the  prize,  with  acclama- 
tions and  good  cheer.  Blount  adds,  re- 
specting this  custom,  that  "  after  the  knot 
is  cut,  then  they  cry  with  a  loud  voice 
three  times,  *  I  have  her.'  Others  answer 
as  many  times,  f  what  have  you  ?' — *  A 
mare,  a  mare,  a  mare.' — '  Whose  is  she,' 
thrice  also. — '  J.  B.'  (naming  the  owner 
three  times.) — '  Whither  will  you  send 
her  ?' — '  To  J.  a  Nicks,'  (naming  some 
neighbour  who  has  not  all  his  corn 
reaped ;)  then  they  all  shout  three  times, 
and  so  the  ceremony  ends  with  good 
cheer.  In  Yorkshire,  upon  the  like  occa- 
sion, they  have  a  harvest  dame ;  in  Bed- 
fordshire, a  Jack  and  a  Gill." 


Having  been  preceded  "  into  the 
bosom  of  the  land"  by  a  lady,  and  be- 
come acquainted  with  accounts  from 
earlier  chroniclers  of  harvest  customs,  we 
now  pay  our  respects  to  the  communica- 
tions of  other  correspondents,  who  have 
been  pleased  to  comply  with  our  call  for 
information. 

GLOUCESTERSHIRE  AND  SUFFOLE. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — With  pleasure  I  have  read  your 
entertaining  and  instructing  collection 
from  its  commencement,  and  I  perceive 
you  have  touched  upon  a  subject  in  one 
of  your  sheets,  which  in  my  youth  used 
to  animate  my  soul,  and  bring  every 
energy  of  my  mind  and  of  my  body  into 
activity  ;  I  mean,  harvest. 

Yes,  sir,  in  my  younger  days  I  was 
introduced  into  the  society  of  innocence 
and  industry ;  but,  I  know  not  how  it 
was,  Dame  Fortune  kicked  me  out,  and 
I  was  obliged  to  dwell  in  smoke  and 
dirt,  in  noise  and  bustle,  in  wickedness 
and  strife  compared  with  what  I  left  ; 


but  I  forgive  her,  as  you  know  she  is 
blind.  May  I,  Mr.  Editor,  converse  with 
you  in  this  way  a  little  ? 

In  Gloucestershire  this  interesting 
season  is  thus  kept.  Of  course  the  good 
man  of  the  house  has  informed  the  indus- 
trious and  notable  dame  the  day  for 
harvest-home;  and  she,  assisted  by  her 
daughters,  makes  every  preparation  to 
keep  out  famine  and  banish  care — the 
neighbours  and  friends  are  invited,  hot 
cakes  of  Betty's  own  making,  and  such 
butter  that  Sukey  herself  had  churned, 
tea,  ale,  syllabub,  gooseberry  wine,  &c. 
And  what  say  you?  Why,  Mr.  Editor,  this 
is  nothing,  this  is  but  the  beginning — the 
grand  scene  is  out  of  doors.  Look  yon- 
der, and  see  the  whole  of  the  troop  of 
men,  women,  and  children  congregated 
together.  They  are  about  to  bring  home 
the  last  load.  You  have  seen  election 
chairings,  Mr.  Editor ;  these  are  mere 
jokes  to  it.  This  load  should  come  from 
the  furthest  field,  and  that  it  should  be  the 
smallest  only  just  above  the  rails,  a  large 
bough  is  placed  in  the  centre,  the  women 
and  children  are  placed  on  the  load,  boys 
on  the  horses,  they  themselves  trimmed 
with  cowslips  and  boughs  of  leaves,  and 
with  shouts  of  «'  harvest-home,"  the  horses 
are  urged  forward,  and  the  procession 
comes  full  gallop  to  the  front  of  the  farm- 
house, where  the  before  happy  party  are 
waiting  to  welcome  home  the  last  load, 
Now,  he  who  has  the  loudest  and  the 
clearest  voice,  mounts  upon  a  neighbour- 
ing shed,  and  with  a  voice  which  would 
do  credit  to  your  city  crier,  shouts 
aloud — 

We  have  ploughed,  we  have  sowed, 
We  have  reaped,  we  have  mowed 
We  have  brought  home  every  load, 
Hip,  hip,  hip.  Harvest  home! 

and  thus,  sir,  the  whole  assembly  shout 
"  huzza."  '  The  strong  ale  is  then  put 
round,  and  the  cake  which  Miss  made  with 
her  own  hands: — the  load  is  then  driven 
round  to  the  stack-yard  or  barn,  and  the 
horses  put  into  the  stable.  John  puts  on 
a  clean  white  frock,  and  William  a  clean 
coloured  handkerchief:  the  boys  grease 
their  shoes  to  look  smart,  and  all  meet 
in  the  house  to  partake  of  the  harvest 
supper, when  the  evening  is  spent  in  cheer- 
fulness. Here,  Mr.  Editor,  is  pomp  with- 
out pride,  liberality  without  ostentation, 
cheerfulness  without  vice,  merriment  with- 
out guilt,  and  happiness  without  alloy. 
They  say  that  old  persons  ari  old  fools 


1165 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1166 


and  although  I  am  almost  blind,  yet  I 
cannot  resist  telling  you  of  what  I  have 
also  seen  in  my  boyish  days  in  Suffolk. 
I  do  not  mean  to  be  long,  sir,  but  merely 
to  give  you  a  few  particulars  of  an  ancient 
custom,  which  I  must  leave  you  to  finish, 
so  that  while  you  take  a  hearty  pinch  of 
snuff  (I  know  you  don't  like  tobacco)  I 
shall  have  completed. 

At  the  commencement  of  harvest  one 
is  chosen  to  be  "  my  lord."  He  goes 
first  in  reaping,  and  mowing,  and  leads  in 
every  occupation.  Now,  sir,  if  you  were 
to  pass  within  a  field  or  two  of  this  band 
of  husbandmen,  "  my  lord"  would  leave 
the  company,  and  approaching  you  with 
respect,  ask  of  you  a  largess.  Supposing 
he  succeeded,  which  I  know  he  would,  he 
would  hail  his  companions,  and  they  would 
thus  acknowledge  the  gift :  my  lord 
would  place  his  troop  in  a  circle,  suppose 
fifteen  men,  and  that  they  were  reaping, 
each  one  would  have  a  hook  in  his  hand, 
or,  if  hoeing  of  turnips,  he  would  bring 
his  hoe.  My  lord  then  goes  to  a  distance, 
mounts  the  stump  of  a  tree,  or  a  gate  post, 
and  repeats  a  couplet  (forgive  the 
treachery  of  my  memory,  for  I  forget  the 
words).  The  men  still  standing  in  the 
circle  listen  with  attention  to  the  words 
of  my  lord,  and  at  the  conclusion  each 
with  his  reap-hook  pointing  with  his 
right  hand  to  the  centre  of  the  circle,  and 
with  intent  as  if  watching  and  expecting, 
they  utter  altogether  a  groan  as  long  as 
four  of  your  breves  (if  you  go  by  notes)  : 
then,  as  if  impelled  together,  their  eyes 
are  lifted  to  the  heavens  above  them,  their 
hooks  point  in  the  same  direction,  and  at 
the  same  time  they  change  the  doleful 
groan  to  a  tremendous  shout,  which  is 
repeated  three  distinct  times. 

The  money  thus  got  during  harvest,  is 
saved  to  make  merry  with  at  a  neigh- 
bouring public-house,  and  the  evening  is 
spent  in  shouting  of  the  largess,  and  joyful 
mirth. 

I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

S.  M. 


Another  correspondent  presents  an 
interesting  description  of  usages  in  another 
county. 


NORFOLK. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book. 
Norfolk,  August,  14,  1826. 

Sir, — In  this  county  it  is  a  general 
practice  on  the  first  day  of  harvest,  for  the 
men  to  leave  the  field  about  four  o'clock, 
and  retire  to  the  alehouse,  and  have  what 
is  here  termed  a  "  whet ;"  that  is,  a  sort 
of  drinking  bo'at  to  cheer  their  hearts  for 
labour.  They  previously  solicit  any  who 
happen  to  come  within  their  sight  with, 
"  I  hope,  sir,  you  will  please  to  bestow  a 
largess  on  us?"  If  the  boon  is  conceded  the 
giver  is  asked  if  he  would  like  to  have  his 
largess  halloed;  if  this  is  assented  to,  the 
hallooing  is  at  his  service. 

At  the  conclusion  of  wheat  harvest,  it 
is  usual  for  the  master  to  give  his  men 
each  a  pot  or  two  of  ale,  or  money,  to  en- 
able them  to  get  some  at  the  alehouse, 
where  a  cheerful  merry  meeting  is  held 
amongst  themselves. 

The  last,  or  "  horkey  load"  (as  it  is 
here  called)  is  decorated  with  flags  and 
streamers,  and  sometimes  a  sort  of  kern 
baby  is  placed  on  the  top  at  front  of  the 
load.  This  is  commonly  called  a  "  ben;" 
why  it  is  so  called,  I  know  not,  nor  have 
I  the  smallest  idea  of  its  etymon,  unless 
a  person  of  that  name  was  dressed  up 
and  placed  in  that  situation,  and  that, 
ever  after,  the  figure  had  this  name  given 
to  it.  This  load  is  attended  by  all  the 
party,  who  had  been  in  the  field,  with  hal- 
looing and  shouting,  and  on  their  arrival 
in  the  farmyard  they  are  joined  by  the 
others.  The  mistress  with  her  maids  are 
out  to  gladden  their  eyes  with  this  wel- 
come scene,  and  bestir  themselves  to  pre- 
pare the  substantial,  plain,  and  homely 
feast,  of  roast  beef  and  plumb  pudding. 

On  this  night  it  is  still  usual  with  some 
of  the  farmers  to  invite  their  neighbours, 
friends,  and  relations,  to  the  "  horkey  sup- 
per." Smiling  faces  grace  the  festive 
board ;  and  many  an  ogling  glance  is 
thrown  by  the  rural  lover  upon  the  nut- 
brown  maid,  and  returned  with  a  blush- 
ing simplicity,  worth  all  the  blushes  ever 
made  at  court.  Supper  ended,  they  leave 
the  room,  (the  cloth ,  &c.  are  removed,) 
and  out  of  doors  they  go,  and  a  hallooing 
"  largess"  commences — thus 


Hallo! 


Lar 


(ad  infinitum.) 


'ith  three  succestiva  Whoop*. ) 


1167 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1168 


The  men  and  boys  form  a  circle  by 
taking  hold  of  hands,  and  one  of  the  party 
standing  in  the  centre,  having  a  gotch* 
of  horkey  ale  placed  near  him  on  the 
ground,  with  a  horn  or  tin  sort  of  trumpet 
in  his  hand,  makes  a  signal,  and  "  halloo  ! 
lar-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-ge-ess"  is  given  as  loud 
and  as  long  as  their  lungs  will  allow,  at 
the  same  time  elevating  their  hands  as 
high  as  they  can,  and  still  keeping  hold. 
The  person  in  the  centre  blows  the  horn 
one  continued  blast,  as  long  as  the  "halloo- 
largess."  This  is  done  three  times,  and  im- 
mediately followed  by  three  successive 
whoops;  and  then  the  glass,  commonly 
a  horn  one,  of  spirit-stirring  ale,  freely 
circles.  At  this  time  the  hallooing-largess 
is  generally  performed  with  three  times 
three. 

This  done,  they  return  to  the  table, 
where  foaming  nappy  ale  is  accompanied 
by  the  lily  taper  tube,  and  weed  of 
India  growth;  and  now  mirth  and  jollity 
abound,  the  horn  of  sparkling  beverage 
is  put  merrily  about,  the  song  goes  round, 
and  the  joke  is  cracked.  The  females 
are  cheerful  and  joyous  partakers  of  this 
"flow  of  soul." 

When  the  "juice  of  the  barrel"  has 
exhilarated  the  spirits,  with  eyes  beaming 
cheerfulness,  and  in  true  good  rustic  hu- 
mour, the  lord  of  the  harvest  accompa- 
nied by  his  lady,  (the  person  is  so  called 
who  goes  second  in  the  reap,  each  some- 
tirres  wearing  a  sort  of  disguise,)  with 
two  plates  in  his  hand,  enters  the  parlour 
wViere  the  guests  are  seated,  and  solicits 
a  largess  from  each  of  them.  The  collec- 
tion made,  they  join  their  party  again  at 
the  table,  and  the  lord  recounting  to  his 
company  the  success  he  has  met  with,  a 
fresh  zest  is  given  to  hilarity,  a  dance  is 
struck  up,  in  which,  though  it  can  hardly 
be  said  to  be  upon  the  "  light  fantastic 
toe/'  the  stiffness  of  age  and  rheumatic 
pangs  are  forgotten,  and  those  who  have 
passed  the  grand  climactric,  feel  in  the 
midst  of  their  teens. 

Another  show  of  disguising  is  com- 
monly exhibited  on  these  occasions,  which 
creates  a  hearty  rustic  laugh,  both  loud 
and  strong.  One  of  the  party  habited  as 
a  female,  is  taken  with  a  violent  pang  of 
the  toot.i  ache,  and  the  doctor  is  sent  for. 
He  soon  makes  his  appearance,  mounted 
on  the  back  of  one  of  the  other  men  as  a 
horse,  having  in  his  hands  a  common 
milking  stool,  which  he  bears  upon,  so  as 


to  enable  him  to  keep  his  back  in  nearly 
a  horizontal  position.  The  doctor  brings 
with  him  the  tongs,  which  he  uses  for  the 
purpose  of  extracting  the  tooth  :  this  is  a 
piece  of  tobacco  pipe  adapted  to  the  oc- 
casion, and  placed  in  the  mouth ;  a  faint- 
ing takes  place  from  the  violence  ol  the 
operation,  and  the  bellows  are  used  as  a 
means  of  causing  a  reviving  hope. 

When  the  ale  has  so  far  operated  that 
some  of  the  party  are  scarcely  capable  of 
keeping  upon  their  seat,  the  ceremony  of 
drinking  healths  takes  place  in  a  sort  of 
glee  or  catch ;  one  or  two  of  which  you 
have  below.  This  health-drinking  gener- 
ally finishes  the  horkey.  On  the  follow- 
ing day  the  party  go  round  among  the 
neighbouring  farmers  (having  various  co- 
loured ribands  on  their  hats,  and  steeple 
or  sugar-loaf  formed  caps,  decked  with 
various  coloured  paper,  8cc.,)  to  taste 
their  horkey  beer,  and  solicit  largess  of  any 
one  with  whom  they  think  success  is 
likely.  The  money  so  collected  is  usu- 
ally spent  at  the  alehouse  at  night.  To 
this  "  largess  money  spending,"  the  wives 
and  sweethearts,  with  the  female  servants 
of  their  late  masters,  are  invited ;  and 
a  tea  table  is  set  out  for  the  women,  the 
men  finding  more  virtue  in  the  decoction 
of  Sir  John  Barleycorn,  and  a  pipe  of  the 
best  Virginia. 

I  have  put  together  what  now  occurs  to 
me  respecting  harvest-home,  and  beg  to 
refer  you  to  Bloomfield's  "Wild  Flowers," 
in  a  piece  there  called  the  "  Horkey ;"  it 
is  most  delightfully  described. 

The  glee  or  catch  at  the  health-drinking 
is  as  follows  : — 

Here's  a  health  un^p  our  master, 
He  is  the  finder  of  the  feast : 
God  bless  his  endeavours, 
And  send  him  increase, 
And  aend  him  increase,  boys, 
AH  in  another  year. 

Here's  your  master's  good  health 
So  drink  off  your  beer  ; 
I  wish  all  things  may  prosper, 
Whate'er  he  takes  in  hand ; 
We  are  all  his  iservants, 
And  are  all  at  his  command. 

So  drink,  boys,  drink, 
And  see  you  do  not  spill ; 
For  if  you  do, 
You  shall  drink  two, 
For  'tis  your  master's  will. 

Another  Health  Drinking. 

Behold,  and  see,  his  glass  is  full, 
At  which  he'll  take  a  hearty  pull  , 


1169 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1170 


He  takes  it  out  with  such  long  wind, 
That  he'll  not  leave  one  drop  behind. 

Behold  and  see  what  he  can  do, 
He  has  not  put  it  in  his  shoe  ; 
He  has  not  drank  one  drop  in  vain, 
He'll  slake  his  thirst,  then  drink  again. 

Here's  a  health  unto  my  brother  John, 
It's  more  than  time  that  we  were  gone ; 
But  drink  your  fill,  and  stand  your  ground, 
This  health  is  called  the  plough-boys  round. 

To  this  may  be  added  the  following. 

A  Health  Drinking. 

There  was  a  man  from  London  came, 
With  a  rum-bum-bum-bare-larum  ; 
Drink  up  your  glass  for  that's  the  game, 
And  say  ne'er  a  word,  except — Mum. 

The  great  object  is  to  start  something 
which  will  catch  some  unguarded  reply 
:n  lieu  of  saying  "  Mum,"  when  the  par'y 
so  unguardedly  replying,  is  fined  to  drink 
two  glasses. 

For  the  beginning  of  Harvest  there  is 
this 

Harvest  Song. 

Now  Lammas  comes  in, 

Our  harvest  begin, 
We  have  done  our  endeavours  to  get  the 

corn  in ; 

We  reap  and  we  mow 
And  we  stoutly  blow 
And  cut  down  the  corn 

That  did  sweetly  grow. 

The  poor  old  man 

That  can  hardly  stand, 
Gets  up  in  the  morning,  and  do  all  he  can, 

Gets  up,  &c. 
1  hope  God  will  reward 

Such  old  harvest  man. 

But  the  man  who  is  lazy 

And  will  not  come  on, 
He  slights  his  good  master 
And  likewise  his  men  ; 
We'll  pay  him  his  wages 

And  send  him  gone, 
For  why  should  we  keep 

Such  a  lazy  drone. 

Now  harvest  is  over 
We'll  make  a  great  noise, 

Our  master,  he  says, 
You  are  welcome,  brave  boys  ; 

We'll  broach  the  old  beer, 

And  we'll  knock  along, 
And  now  w«  will  sing  an  old  harvest  loog. 


I  shall  be  happy  if  this  will  afford  the 
readers  of  the  Every-Day  Book  any  in- 
formation concerning  the  harvest  customs 
of  this  county.  I  am,  Sir,  &c. 

6.  £.  I 


A  valuable  correspondent  transmits  a 
particular  account  of  his  country  custom, 
which  will  be  read  with  pleasure. 

DEVON. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — As  the  harvest  has  now  become 
very  general,  I  am  reminded  of  a  circum- 
stance, which  I  think  worthy  of  communi- 
cating to  you.     After  the  wheat  is  all  cut, 
on  most  farms  in  the  north  of  Devon,  the 
harvest  people  have  a  custom  of  "  crying 
the  neck."     I  believe  that  this  practice  is 
seldom  omitted  on  any  large  farm  in  that 
part  of  the  country.     It  is  done  in  this 
way.     An  old  man,  or  some  one  else  well 
acquainted  with  the  ceremonies  used  on 
the   occasion,   (when  the  labourers   arc 
reaping  the  last  field  of  wheat,)  goes  round 
to  the  shocks  and  sheaves,  and  picks  out 
a  little  bundle  of  all  the  best  ears  he  can 
find ;  this  bundle  he  ties  up  very  neat 
and   trim,  and  plats    and    arranges  the 
straws  very  tastefully.  This  is  called  "the 
neck"  of  wheat,  or  wheaten-ears.     After 
the  field  is  cut  out,  and  the  pitcher  once 
more  circulated,  the  reapers,  binders,  and 
the  women,  stand  round  in  a  circle.     The 
person  with  "  the  neck"  stands  in  the  cen- 
tre, grasping  it  with  both  his  hands.     He 
first  stoops  and  holds  it  near  the  ground, 
and  all  the  men  forming  the  ring,  take  oft* 
their  hats,  stooping  and    holding  them 
with   both   hands    towards   the    ground. 
They  then  all  begin  at  once  in  a  very  pro- 
longed and  harmonious  tone  to  cry   "  the 
neck !"  at  the  same  time  slowly  raising 
themselves  upright,  and   elevating  their 
arms  and   hats   above  their  heads ;    the 
person  with  "  the  neck"  also  raising  it  on 
high.    This  is  done  three  times.     They 
then  change  their  cry  to  "  wee  yen  !" — 
"  way  yen  !" — which  they  sound  in  the 
same  prolonged  and   slow  manner  as  be- 
fore, with  singular  harmony  and  effect, 
three  times.     This  last  cry  is  accompanied 
by  the  same  movements  of  the  body  and 
arms  as  in  crying  "  the  neck."     I  know 
nothing  of  vocal  music,  but  I  think  I  may 
convey  some  idea  of  the  sound,  by  giving 
you  the  following  notes  in  gamut. 


1171 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1172 


We  yen!  We  yen! 


Let  these  notes  be  played  on  a  flute 
with  perfect  crescendos  and  diminuendoes, 
and  perhaps  some  notion  of  this  wild 
sounding  cry  may  be  formed.  Well, 
after  having  thus  repeated  "  the  neck" 
three  times,  and  "  wee  yen"  or  **  way 
yen"  as  often,  they  all  burst  out  into  a 
kind  of  loud  and  joyous  laugh,  flinging 
up  their  hats  and  caps  into  the  air,  caper- 
ing about  and  perhaps  kissing  the  girls. 
One  of  them  then  gets  "  the  neck,"  and 
runs  as  hard  as  he  can  down  to  the  farm- 
house, where  the  dairy-maid,  or  one  of 
the  young  female  domestics,  stands  at  the 
door  prepared  with  a  pail  of  water.  If 
he  who  holds  "  the  neck"  cau  manage  to 
get  into  the  house,  in  any  way  unseen,  or 
openly,  by  any  other  way  than  the  door 
at  which  the  girl  stands  with  the  pail  of 
water,  then  he  may  lawfully  kiss  her ;  but, 
if  otherwise,  he  is  regularly  soused  with 
the  contents  of  the  bucket.  On  a  fine 
still  autumn  evening,  the  "  crying  of  the 
neck"  has  a  wonderful  effect  at  a  distance, 
far  finer  than  that  of  the  Turkish  muezzin, 
which  lord  Byron  eulogizes  so  much,  and 
which  he  says  is  preferable  to  all  the  bells 
in  Christendom.  I  have  once  or  twice 
heard  upwards  of  twenty  men  cry  it,  and 
sometimes  joined  by  an  equal  number  of 
female  voices.  About  three  years  back, 
on  some  high  grounds,  where  our  people 
were  harvesting,  I  heard  six  or  seven 
"  necks"  cried  in  one  night,  although  I 
know  that  some  of  them  were  four  miles 
off.  They  are  heard  through  the  quiet 
evening  air,  at  a  considerable  distance 
sometimes.  But  I  think  that  the  practice 
is  beginning  to  decline  of  late,  and  many 
farmers  and  their  men  do  not  care  about 
keeping  up  this  old  custom  I  shall  al- 
ways patronise  it  myself,  because  I  take 
it  in  the  light  of  a  thanksgiving.  By  the 
by,  I  was  about  to  conclude,  without  en- 
deavouring to  explain  the  meaning  of  the 
words,  "  we  yen  !"  I  had  long  taken 
them  for  Saxon,  as  the  people  of  Devon 
are  the  true  Saxon  breed.  But  I  think 
that  I  am  wrong.  I  asked  an  old  fellow 
about  it  the  other  day,  and  he  is  the  only 
man  who  ever  gave  me  a  satisfactory  ex- 
planation. He  says,  that  the  object  of  cry- 
ing "  the  neck"  is  to  give  the  surrounding 
country  notice  of  the  end  of  harvest,  and 


that  they  mean  by  "  we  yen !"  we  have 
ended.  Tt  may  more  probably  mean  "  we 
end,"  which  the  uncouth  and  provincial 
pronunciation  has  corrupted  into  "  we 
yen  !"  I  am,  Sir, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

July,  1826.  R.  A.  R. 

P.  S.  In  the  above  hastily  written  ac- 
count, I  should  have  mentioned  that  "  the 
neck"  is  generally  hung  up  in  the  farm- 
house,  where  it  remains  sometimes  three 
or  four  years.  I  have  written  "  we  yen," 
because  I  have  always  heard  it  so  pro- 
nounced ;  they  may  articulate  it  differ- 
ently in  other  parts  of  the  country. 

ESSEX. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Dvy  Booh. 

Sir, — As  harvest  has  began  in  various 
counties,  I  beg  leave  to  give  you  a  des- 
cription of  what  is  called  the  "  harvest 
supper,"  in  Essex,  at  the  conclusion  ot 
the  harvest. 

After  the  conclusion  of  the  harvest,  a 
supper  is  provided,  consisting  of  roast 
beef  and  plum  pudding,  with  plenty  of 
strong  ale,  with  which  all  the  men  who 
have  been  employed  in  getting  in  the  corn 
regale  themselves.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  supper,  the  following  is  sung  by  the 
whole  of  them  at  the  supper. 

Here's  a  health  to  our  master, 

The  lord  of  the  feast, 
God  bless  his  endeavours, 

And  send  him  increase ; 
May  prosper  his  crops,  boys, 

That  we  may  reap  another  year, 
Here's  your  master's  good  health,  boys, 

Come,  drink  off  your  beer. 

After  supper  the  following : — 

Now  harvest  is  ended  and  supper  is  past, 
Here's  our  mistress's  good  health,  boys, 

Come,  drink  a  full  glass ; 

For  she  is  a  good  woman,  she  provides  us 
good  cheer,  , 

Here's  your  mistress's  good  health,  boys, 
Come,  drink  off  your  beer. 

The  night  is  generally  spent  with  great 
mirth,  and  the  merry-makers  seldom  dis- 
perse till  "  Bright  Phcebus  has  mounted 
his  chariot  of  day." 

I  am,  &c. 
AN  ESSEX  MJ»N  AUD  SUBSCRIBER. 


1173 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1174 


It  is  the  advice  of  the  most  popular 
of  our  old  writers  on  husbandry,  that — 

In  harvest  time,  harvest  folkc, 

servants  and  all, 
Should  make,  altogether, 

good  cheere  in  the  hall : 
And  fill  out  the  black  bole, 

ofbleith  to  their  song, 
And  let  them  be  merry 
all  harvest  time  long. 
Once  ended  thy  harvest, 
let  none  be  beguilde, 
Please  such  as  did  please  thee, 

man,  woman,  and  chlild. 

Thus  doing,  with  alway 

such  help  as  they  can, 

Thou  winnest  the  praise 

of  the  labouring  man. 

Tusser. 

"  Tusser  Redivivus"  says, "  This,  the  poor 
labourer  thinks,  crowns  all ;  a  good  supper 
must  be  provided,  and  every  one  that 
did  any  thing  towards  the  Inning  must 
now  have  some  reward,  as  ribbons,  laces, 
rows  of  pins  to  boys  and  girls,  if  never 
so  small,  for  their  encouragement,  and, 
to  be  sure,  plumb-pudding.  The  men 
must  now  have  some  better  than  best 
drink,  which,  with  a  little  tobacco  and 
their  screaming  for  their  largesses,  their 
business  will  soon  be  done." 

Harvest  Goose. 
For  all  this  good  feasting, 
yet  art  thou  not  loose, 


Til  Ploughman  thou  givest 

his  harvest  home  goose  ; 
Though  goose  goe  in  stubble, 

I  passe  not  for  that, 
Let  goose  have  a  goose, 

be  she  lean,  be  she  fat. 

Tutter. 

Whereon  "Tusser  Redivivus"  notes, 
that  "  the  goose  is  forfeited,  if  they 
overthrow  during  harvest."  A  MS. 
note  on  a  copy  of  Brand's  "  Antiquities," 
lent  to  the  editor,  cites  from  Boys's 
"  Sandwich,"  an  item  "  35  Hen.  VIII. 
Spent  when  we  ete  our  harvyst  goose 
iijs.  via.  and  the  goose  xd." 

In  France  under  Henry  IV.  it  is  cited 
by  Mr.  Brand  from  Seward,  that  "  after 
the  harvest,  the  peasants  fixed  upon  some 
holiday  to  meet  together  and  have  a  little 
regale,  (by  them  called  the  harvest  gos- 
ling,) to  which  they  invited  not  only  each 
other,  but  even  their  masters,  who  pleased 
them  very  much  when  they  condescended 
to  partake  of  it." 


According  to  information  derived  by 
Mr.  Brand,  it  was  formerly  the  custom 
at  Hitchin,  in  Hertfordshire,  for  each 
farmer  to  drive  furiously  home  with  the 
last  load  of  his  corn,  while  the  people 
ran  after  him  with  bowls  full  of  water  in 
order  to  throw  on  it ;  and  this  usage  war* 
accompanied  with  great  shouting. 


HARVEST-HOME. 

Who  has  not  seen  the  cheerful  harvest-home, 

Enlivening  the  scorch'd  field,  and  greeting  gay 

The  slow  decline  of  Autumn.     All  around 

The  yellow  sheaves,  catching  the  burning  beam, 

Glow,  golden  lustre;  and  the  trembling  stem 

Of  the  slim  oat,  or  azure  corn-flow'r, 

Waves  on  hedge-rows  shady.     From  the  hill 

The  day-breeze  softly  steals  with  downward  wing, 

And  lightly  passes,  whisp'ring  the  soft  sounds 

Which  moan  the  death  of  Summer.     Glowing  scene  1 

Nature's  long  holiday !     Luxuriant,  rich, 

In  her  proud  progeny,  she  smiling  marks 

Their  graces,  now  mature,  and  wonder-fraught! 

Hail!  season  exquisite! — and  hail,  ye  sons 

Of  rural  toil ! — ye  blooming  daughters ! — ye 

Who,  in  the  lap  of  hardy  labour  rear'd, 

Enjoy  the  mind  unspotted !     Up  the  plain, 

Or  on  the  side-long  hill,  or  in  the  glen, 

Where  the  rich  farm,  or  scatter'd  hamlet,  shows 

The  neighbourhood  of  peace  ye  still  are  found, 

A  merry  and  an  artless  throng,  whose  souls 

Beam  thro'  untutor'd  glances.     When  the  dawn 


M7*  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER.  1176 

Unfolds  its  sunny  lustre,  and  the  dew 

Silvers  the  out-stretch'd  landscape,  labour's  sons 

Rise,  ever  healthful, — ever  cheerily, 

From  sweet  and  soothing  rest;  for  fev'rish  dreams 

Visit  not  lowly  pallets  !     All  the  day 

They  toil  in  the  fierce  beams  of  fervid  noon — 

But  toil  without  repining!     The  blithe  song 

Joining  the  woodland  melodies  afar, 

Fling  its  rude  cadence  in  fantastic  sport 

On  Echo's  airy  wing!  the  pond'rous  load 

Follows  the  weary  team  :  the  narrow  lane 

Bears  on  its  thick- wove  hedge  the  scatter'd  corn, 

Hanging  in  scanty  fragments,  which  the  thorn 

Purloin'd  from  the  b.road  waggon. 

To  the  brook 

That  ripples,  shallow,  down  the  valley's  slope, 
The  herds  slow  measure  their  unvaried  way ; — 
The  flocks  along  the  heath  are  dimly  seen 
By  the  faint  torch  of  ev'ning,  whose  red  eye 
Closes  in  tearful  silence.     Now  the  air 
Is  rich  in  fragrance !  fragrance  exquisite ! 
Of  new-mown  hay,  of  wild  thyme  dewy  wash'd, 
And  gales  ambrosial,  which,  with  cooling  breath, 
Ruffle  the  lake's  grey  surface.     All  around 
The  thin  mist  rises,  and  the  busy  tones 
Of  airy  people,  borne  on  viewless  wings, 
Break  the  short  pause  of  nature.     From  the  plain 
The  rustic  throngs  come  cheerly,  their  loud  din 
Augments  to  mingling  clamour.     Sportive  hinds, 
Happy !  more  happy  than  the  lords  ye  serve ! — 
How  lustily  your  sons  endure  the  hour 
Of  wintry  desolation  ;  and  how  fair 
Your  blooming  daughters  greet  the  op'ning  dawn 
Of  love-inspiring  spring ! 

Hail!  harvest-home! 

To  thee,  the  muse  of  nature  pours  the  song, 
By  instinct  taught  to  warble !  Instinct  pure, 
Sacred,  and  grateful,  to  that  pow'r  ador'd, 
Which  warms  the  sensate  being,  and  reveals 
The  soul,  self-evident,  beyond  the  dreams 
Of  visionary  sceptics !  Scene  sublime ! 
Where  the  rich  earth  presents  her  golden  treasures; 
Where  balmy  breathings  whisper  to  the  heart 
Delights  unspeakable !  Where  seas  and  skies, 
And  hills  and  vallies,  colours,  odours,  dews, 
Diversify  the  work  of  nature's  God !  Mrs.  Robinson. 


It  was  formerly  the  custom  in  the  whole  band,  and  the  evening  spent  in 
parish  of  Longforgan,  in  the  county  of  ioviality  and  dancing,  while  the  fortunate 
JPerth  North  Britain,  to  give  what  "was  lass  who  took  the  maiden  was  the  queen 
called  a  maiden  feast.  "Upon  the  of  the  feast;  after  which  this  handful  of 
finishing  of  the  harvest  the  last  handful  corn  was  dressed  out  generally  in  the  form 
of  corn  reaped  in  the  field  was  called  of  a  cross,  and  hung  up  with  the  date  of 
tht  maiden.  This  was  generally  con-  the  year,  in  some  conspicuous  part  of  the 
trived  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  one  of  the  house.  This  custom  is  now  entirely  done 
finest  girls  in  the  field,  and  was  dressed  away,  and  in  its  room  each  shearer  is 
up  with  ribands,  and  brought  home  in  given  sixpence  and  a  loaf  of  bread.  How- 
triumph  with  the  music  of  fiddles  or  bag-  ever,  some  farmers,  when  all  their  corns 
pipes.  A  good  dinner  was  given  to  the  are  brought  in,  give  their  servants  a  dinnei 


1177  TI1E  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. -SEPTEMBER.  1173 

and  a  jovial  evening,  by  way  of  harvest-  The    festival    of    the    in-gathering   in 

home."*  Scotland,  is  poetically  described  by   the 

_  elegant  author  of  the  •'  British  Georgics." 

*  Statistical  Account  of  Scotland. 

THE  KIR*. 
Harvest  Home. 

The  fields  are  swept,  a  tranquil  silence  reigns* 
And  pause  of  rural  labour,  far  and  near. 
Deep  is  the  moining's  hush  ;  from  grange  to  grange 
Responsive  cock-crows,  in  the  distance  heard, 
Distinct  as  if  at  hand,  soothe  the  pleased  ear ; 
And  oft,  at  intervals,  the  flail,  remote, 
Sends  faintly  through  the  air  its  deafened  sound. 

Bright  now  the  shortening  day,  arid  blythe  its  close, 
When  to  the  Kirn  the  neighbours,  old  and  young, 
Come  dropping  in  to  share  the  well-earned  feast. 
The  smith  aside  his  ponderous  sledge  has  thrown, 
Raked  up  his  fire,  and  cooled  the  hissing  brand 
His  sluice  the  miller  shuts  ;  and  from  the  barn 
The  threshers  hie,  to  don  their  Sunday  coats. 
Simply  adorned,  with  ribands,  blue  and  pink, 
Bound  round  their  braided  hair,  the  lasses  trip 
To  grace  the  feast,  which  now  is  smoking  ranged 
On  tables  of  all  shape,  and  size,  and  height, 
Joined  awkwardly,  yet  to  the  crowded  guests 
A  seemly  joyous  show,  all  loaded  well : 
But  chief,  at  the  board-head,  the  haggis  round 
Attracts  all  eyes,  and  even  the  goodman's  grace 
Prunes  of  its  wonted  length.     With  eager  knife, 
The  quivering  globe  he  then  prepares  to  broach ; 
While  for  her  gown  some  ancient  matron  quakes, 
Her  gown  of  silken  woof,  all  figured  thick 
With  roses  white,  far  larger  than  the  life, 
On  azure  ground, — her  grannam's  wedding  garb, 
Old  as  that  year  when  Sheriffmuir  was  fought. 
Old  tales  are  told,  and  well-known  jests  abound, 
Which  laughter  meets  half  way  as  ancient  friends, 
Nor,  like  the  worldling,  spurns  because  thread  bare 

When  ended  the  repast,  and  board  and  bench 
Vanish  like  thought,  by  many  hands  removed, 
Up  strikes  the  fiddle  ;  quick  upon  the  floor 
The  youths  lead  out  the  half-reluctant  maids, 
Bashful  at  first,  and  darning  through  the  reels 


1179 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1180 


With  timid  steps,  till,  by  the  music  cheered, 
With  free  and  airy  step,  they  bound  along, 
Then  deftly  wheel,  and  to  their  partner's  face, 
Turning  this  side,  now  that,  with  varying  step. 
Sometimes  two  ancient  couples  o'er  the  floor, 
Skim  through  a  reel,  and  think  of  youthful  years. 

Meanwhile  the  frothing  bickers,*  soon  as  rilled, 
Are  drained,  and  to  the  gauntressf  oft  return, 
Where  gossips  sit,  unmindful  of  the  dance. 
Salubrious  beverage  !     Were  thy  sterling  worth 
But  duly  prized,  no  more  the  alembic  vast 
Would,  like  some  dire  volcano,  vomit  forth 
Its  floods  of  liquid  fire,  and  far  .and  wide 
Lay  waste  the  land ;  no  more  the  fruitful  boon 
Of  twice  ten  shrievedoms,  into  poison  turned, 
Would  taint  the  very  life  blood  of  the  poor, 
Shrivelling  their  heart-strings  like  a  burning  scroll. 


Grahame. 


In  the  island  of  Minorca,  "  Theii  har- 
vests are  generally  gathered  by  the  mid- 
dle of  June ;  and,  as  the  corn  ripens,  a 
number  of  boys  and  girls  station  them- 
selves at  the  edges  of  the  fields,  and  on 
the  tops  of  the  fence-walls,  to  fright  away 
the  small  birds  with  their  shouts  and 
cries.  This  puts  one  in  mind  of  Virgil's 
precept  in  the  first  book  of  his l  Georgics,' 
'  Et  sonitu  terrebis  aves,* 

and  was  a  custom,  1  doubt  not,  among 
the  Roman  farmers,  from  whom  the  an- 
cient Minorquins  learned  it.  They  also 
use  for  the  same  purpose,  a  split  reed, 
which  makes  a  horrid  rattling,  as  they 
shake  it  with  their  hands." 

In  Northamptonshire,  "  within  the  li- 
berty of  Warkworth  is  Ashe  Meadow, 
divided  amongst  the  neighbouring  pa- 
rishes, and  famed  for  the  following  cus- 
toms observed  in  the  mowing  of  it.  The 
meadow  is  divided  into  fifteen  portions, 
answering  to  fifteen  lots,  which  are  pieces 
of  wood  cut  off  from  an  arrow,  and  mark- 
ed according  to  the  landmarks  in  the 
field.  To  each  lot  are  allowed  eight  mow- 
ers, amounting  to  one  hundred  and  twenty 
in  the  whole.  On  the  Saturday  sevennight 
after  midsummer-day,  these  portions  are 
laid  out  by  six  persons,  of  whom  two  are 
chosen  from  Warkworth,  two  from  Over- 


thorp,  one  from  Grimsbury,  and  one  from 
Nethercote.  Th°se  are  called  field-men, 
and  have  an  entertainment  provided  for 
them  upon  the  day  of  laying  out  the  mea- 
dow, at  the  appointment  of  the  lord  of  the 
manor.  As  soon  as  the  meadow  is  mea- 
sured, the  man  who  provides  the  feast, 
attended  by  the  hay-ward  of  Warkworth, 
brings  into  the  field  three  gallons  of  ale. 
After  this  the  meadow  is  run,  as  they 
term  it,  or  trod,  to  distinguish  the  lots ; 
and,  when  this  is  over,  the  hay-ward  brings 
into  the  field  a  rump  of  beef,  six  penny 
loaves,  and  three  gallons  of  ale,  and  is  al- 
lowed a  certain  portion  of  hay  in  return, 
though  not  of  equal  value  with  his  provi- 
sion. This  hay-ward  and  the  master  of 
the  feast  have  the  name  of  crocus-men. 
In  running  the  field  each  man  hath  a  boy 
allowed  to  assist  him.  On  Monday  morn- 
ing lots  are  drawn,  consisting  some  of 
eight  swaths  and  others  of  four.  Of  these 
the  first  and  last  carry  the  garlands.  The 
two  first  lots  are  of  four  swaths,  and  whilst 
these  are  mowing,  the  mowers  go  double ; 
and,  as  soon  as  these  are  finished,  the 
following  orders  are  read  aloud  : — *  Oyez, 
Oyez,  Oyez,  1  charge  you,  under  God,  and 
in  his  majesty's  name,  that  you  keep  the 
king's  peace  in  the  lord  of  the  manor's 
behalf,  according  to  the  orders  and  cus« 
toms  of  this  meadow.  No  man  or  men 
shall  go  before  the  two  garlands ;  if  you 


»  Beakers. 


t  Wooden  frames  en  whirh  beer  casks  arc  »et. — Johnson, 


1181 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


118-2 


do,  you  shall  pay  your  penny,  or  deliver 
your  scythe  at  the  first  demand,  and  this 
so  often  as  you  shall  transgress.  No  man, 
or  men,  shall  mow  above  eight  swaths 
over  their  lots,  before  they  lay  down  their 
scythes  and  go  to  breakfast.  No  man,  or 
men,  shall  mow  any  farther  than  Mbnks- 
holm-brook,  but  leave  tneir  scythes  there, 
and  go  to  dinner ;  according  to  the  cus- 
tom and  manner  of  this  manor.  God  save 
the  king!'  The  dinner,  provided  by  the 
lord  of  the  manor's  tenant,  consists  of 
three  cheesecakes,  three  cakes,  and  a  new- 
milk  cheese.  The  cakes  and  cheesecakes 
are  of  the  size  of  a  winnowing-sieve  ;  and 
the  person  who  brings  them  is  to  have 
three  gallons  of  ale.  The  master  of  the 
feast  is  paid  in  hay,  and  is  farther  allowed 
to  turn  all  his  cows  into  the  meadow  on 
Saturday  morning  till  eleven  c%'clock ;  that 
by  this  means  giving  the  more  milk  the 
cakes  may  be  made  the  bigger.  Other 
like  customs  are  observed  in  the  mowing 
other  meadows  in  this  parish."* 

Harvest  time  is  as  delightful  to  look 
on  to  us,  who  are  mere  spectators  of  it, 
as  it  was  in  the  golden  age,  when  the 
gatherers  and  the  rejoicers  were  one. 
Now,  therefore,  as  then,  the  fields  are  all 
alive  with  figures  and  groups,  that  seem, 
in  the  eye  of  the  artist,  to  be  made  for 
pictures — pictures  that  he  can  see  but 
one  fault  in;  (which  fault,  by  the  by,  con- 
stitutes their  only  beauty  in  the  eye  of 
the  farmer ;)  namely,  that  they  will  not 

*  Bridges'  Northamptonshire. 


stand  still  a  moment,  for  him  to  paint 
them.  He  must  therefore  be  content,  as 
we  are,  to  keep  them  as  studies  in  the 
storehouse  of  his  memory. 

Here  are  a  few  of  those  studies,  which 
he  may  practise  upon  till  doomsday,  and 
will  not  then  be  able  to  produce  half  the 
effect  from  them  that  will  arise  sponta- 
neously on  the  imagination,  at  the  mere 
mention  of  the  simplest  words  which  can 
describe  them  : — The  sunburnt  reapers, 
entering  the  field  leisurely  at  early  morn- 
ing, with  their  reaphooks  resting  on  their 
right  shoulders,  and  their  beer-kegs  swing- 
ing to  their  left  hands,  while  they  pause 
for  a  while  to  look  about  them  before 
they  begin  their  work. — The  same,  when 
they  are  scattered  over  the  field  :  some 
stooping  to  the  ground  over  the  prostrate 
corn,  others  lifting  up  the  heavy  sheaves 
and  supporting  them  against  one  another 
while  the  rest  are  plying  their  busy 
sickles,  before  which  the  brave  crop  seems 
to  retreat  reluctantly,  like  a  half-defeated 
army. — Again,  the  same  collected  toge- 
ther into  one  group,  and  resting  to  re- 
fresh themselves,  while  the  lightening 
keg  passes  from  one  to  another  silently, 
and  the  rude  clasp-knife  lifts  the  coarse 
meal  to  the  ruddy  lips. — Lastly,  the  piled- 
up  wain,  moving  along  heavily  among 
the  lessening  sheaves,  and  swaying  from 
side  to  side  as  it  moves ;  while  a  few, 
whose  share  of  the  work  is  already  done, 
lie  about  here  and  there  in  the  shade, 
and  watch  the  near  completion  of  it.* 

*  Mirror  of  the  Months. 


KENTISH  HOP  PICKING. 

Who  first  may  fill 

The  bellying  bin,  and  cleanest  cull  the  hops. 
Nor  ought  retards,  unless  invited  out 
By  Sol's  declining,  and  the  evening's  calm, 
Leander  leads  Laetitia  to  the  scene 
Of  shade  and  fragrance — Then  th'   exulting  band 
Of  pickers,  male  and  female,  seize  the  fair 
Reluctant,  and  with  boisterous  force  and  brute, 
By  cries  unmov'd,  Ihey  bury  her  in  the  bin. 
Nor  does  the  youth  escape — him  too  they  seize, 
And  in  such  posture  place  as  best  may  serve 
To  hide  his  charmer's  blushes.      Then  with  shouts 
They  rend  the  echoing  air,  and  from  them  both 
(So  custom  has  ordain'd)  a  largess  claim. 


Smart, 


1163 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK —SEPTEMBER. 


11H4 


SEPTEMBER. 

The  harvest-men  ring  Summer  out 
With  thankful  song,  and  joyous  shout  ; 
And,  when  September  comes,  they  hail 
The  Autumn  with  the  flapping  flail. 


This  besides    being     named    "  gerst-  this  season  of  the  year.      A  Saxon  meno- 

monat  "  by  the  Anglo-Saxons,*  they  also  logy,  or  register  of  the  months,  (in  Wan- 

called     haligemonath,    or     the     "holy-  ley's  addition  toHickes,)  mentions  it  under 

month,"  from  an  ancient  festival  held  at  that  denomination,  and  gives  its  deriva- 

__  tion   in  words  which   are   thus  literally 

*  see  voi.  i.  p.  U47.  translated  "  haligemonath  —  for  that   our 


1185 


T11E  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


forefathers,  the  while  they  heathens  were, 
on  this  month  celebrated  their  devil-gild." 
To  inquire  concerning  an  exposition 
which  appears  so  much  at  variance  with 
this  old  name,  is  less  requisite  than  to 
take  a  calm  survey  of  the  month  itself. 


I  at  my  window  sit,  and  see 
Autumn  his  russet  fingers  lay 

On  every  leaf  of  every  tree  ; 

I  call,  hut  summer  will  not  stay. 

She  flies,  the  boasting  goddess  flies, 
And,  pointing  where  espaliers  shoot, 

Deserve  my  parting  gift,  she  cries, 
I  take  the  leaves,  but  not  the  fruit. 

Still,  at  this  season—- 
The rainbow  comes  and  goes, 

The  moon  doth  with  delight 
Look  round  her  when  the  heavens  are  bare; 

Waters  on  a  starry  night 

Are  beautiful  and  fair ; 
The  sunshine  is  a  glorious  birth  ;— 

But  yet  we  know,  where'er  we  go, 
That  there  hath  passed  away  a  glory  from  the 
earth. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  mention  it,"  says  the 
author  of  the  Mirror  of  the  Months,  "  but 
the  truth  must  be  told  even  in  a  matter 
of  age.  The  year  then  is  on  the  wane. 
It  is  *  declining  into  the  vale '  of  months. 
It  has  reached  '  a  certain  age/ — It  has 
reached  the  summit  of  the  hill,  and  is  not 
only  looking,  but  descending,  into  the. 
valley  below.  But,  unlike  that  into  which 
the  life  of  man  declines,  this  is  not  a  vale 
of  tears ;  still  less  does  it,  like  that,  lead 
to  that  inevitable  bourne,  the  kingdom  of 
the  grave.  For  though  it  may  be  called 
(I  hope  without  the  semblance  of  profa- 
nation) *  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of 
death,'  yet  of  death  itself  it  knows  nothing. 
No — the  year  steps  onward  towards  its 
temporary  decay,  if  not  so  rejoicingly, 
even  more  majestically  and  gracefully, 
than  it  does  towards  its  revivification. 
And  if  September  is  not  so  bright  with 
promise,  and  so  buoyant  with  hope,  as 
May,  it  is  even  more  embued  with  that 
spirit  of  serene  repose,  in  which  the  only 
true,  because  the  only  continuous  enjoy- 
ment consists.  Spring  '  never  M, '  but 
always  to  be  blest ;'  but  September  is  the 
month  of  consummations — the  fulfiller  of 
All  promises — the  fruition  of  all  hopes — 
file  era  of  all  completeness. 

"  The  sunsets  of  September  in  this 
country  are  perhaps  unrivalled,  for  their 
infinite  variety,  and  their  indescribable 

VOL.  1 1. —90. 


beauty.  Those  of  more  southern  coun- 
tries may,  perhaps,  match  or  even  surpass 
them,  for  a  certain  glowing  and  unbroken 
intensity.  But  for  gorgeous  variety  of 
form  and  colour,  exquisite  delicacy  of  tint 
and  pencilling,  and  a  certain  placid  sweet- 
ness and  tenderness  of  general  effect, 
which  frequently  arises  out  of  a  union  of 
the  two  latter,  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen 
like  what  we  can  show  in  England  at 
this  season  of  the  year.  If  a  painter,  who 
was  capable  of  doing  it  to  the  utmost 
perfection,  were  to  dare  depict  on  canvas 
one  out  of  twenty  of  the  sunsets  that  we 
frequently  have  during  this  month,  he 
would  be  laughed  at  for  his  pains.  And 
the  reason  is,  that  people  judge  of  pic- 
tures by  pictures.  They  compare  Hob- 
bima  with  Ruysdael,  and  Ruysdael  with 
Wynants,  and  Wynants  with  Wouver- 
mans,  and  Wouvermans  with  Potter,  and 
Potter  with  Cuyp ;  and  then  they  think 
trje  affair  can  proceed  no  farther.  And 
the  chances  are,  that  if  you  were  to*show 
one  of  the  sunsets  in  question  to  a 
thorough-paced  connoisseur  in  this  de- 
partment of  fine  art,  he  would  reply,  that 
it  was  very  beautiful,  to  be  sure,  but  that 
he  must  beg  to  doubt  whether  it  was  na- 
tural, for  he  had  never  seen  one  like  it  jn 
any  of  the  old  masters !" 

In  the  "  Poetical  Calendar''  there  is 
the  following  address  "  to  Mr.  Hayman," 
probably  Francis  Hayman,  the  painter  of 
Vauxhall-gardens,  who  is  known  to  us 
all,  through  early  editions  of  several  of 
our  good  authors,  "  with  copper-plates, 
designed  by  Mr.  Hayman." 

AN  AUTUMNAL  ODE. 

Yet  once  more,  glorious  God  of  day, 

While  beams  thine  orb  serene, 
O  let  me  warbling  court  thy  stay 
To  gild  the  fading  scene ! 

Thy  rays  invigorate  the  spring, 
Bright  summer  to  perfection  bring, 
The  cold  inclemency  of  winter  cheer, 
And  maice  th'  autumnal  months  the  mildest 
of  the  year. 

'Ere  yet  the  russet  foliage  fall 

I'll  climb  the  mountain's  brow, 
My  friend,  my  Hayman,  at  thy  call, 
To  view  the  scene  below : 

How  sweetly  pleasing  to  behold 
Forests  of  vegetable  gold ! 
How  mix'd  the  many  chequer'd  shades  be- 
tween 

The  tawny,  mellowing  hue,  and  the  gay  wvid 
green ! 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER. 


1188 


How  splendid  all  the  sky !  how  still ! 

How  mild  the  dying  gale ! 
How  soft  the  whispers  of  the  rill, 
That  winds  along  the  vale  I 

So  tranquil  nature's  works  appear, 
It  seems  the  sabbath  of  the  year : 
As  if,  the  summer's  labour  past,  she  chose 
This  season's  sober  calm  for  blandishing  re- 
pose. 

Such  is  of  well-spent  life  the  time. 

When  busy  days  are  past ; 
Man,  verging  gradual  from  his  prime, 
Meets  sacred  peace  at  last : 

His  flowery  spring  of  pleasures  o'er, 
And  summer's  full-bloom  pride  no  more, 
He  gains  pacific  autumn,  mild  and  bland, 
And  dauntless  braves  the  stroke  of  winter's 
palsied  hand. 

For  yet  a  while,  a  little  while, 

Involv'd  in  wintry  gloom, 
And  lo  !  another  spring  shall  smile, 
A  spring  eternal  bloom : 

Then  shall  he  shine,  a  glorious  guest, 
Tri  the  bright  mansions  of  the  blest, 
Where  due  rewards  on  virtue  are  bestow'd, 
And  reap'd  the  golden  fruits  of  what  his  au- 
tumn sow'd. 


It  is  remarked  by  the  gentleman-usher 
of  the  year,  that  "  the  fruit  garden  is  one 
scene  of  tempting  profusion. 

"Against  the  wall,  the  grapes  have  put  on 
that  transparent  look  which  indicates 
their  complete  ripeness,  and  have  dressed 
their  cheeks  in  that  delicate  bloom  which 
enables  them  to  bear  away  the  bell  of 
beauty  from  all  their  rivals.  The  peaches 
and  nectarines  have  become  fragrant, 
and  the  whole  wall  where  they  hang  is 
'  musical  with  bees/  Along  the  espa- 
liers, the  rosy-cheeked  apples  look  out 
from  among  their  leaves,  like  laughing 
children  peeping  at  each  other  through 
screens  of  foliage ;  and  the  young  stand- 
ards bend  their  straggling  boughs  to  the 
earth  with  the  weight  of  their  produce. 

"  Let  us  not  forget  to  add,  that  there  is 
one  part  of  London  which  is  never  out  of 
season,  ancl  is  never  more  in  season  than 
now.  Covent-garden  market  is  still  the 
garden  of  gardens ;  and  as  there  is  not  a 
month  in  all  the  year  in  which  it  does 
not  contrive  to  belie  something  or  other 
that  has  been  said  in  the  foregoing  pages, 
as  to  the  particular  season  of  certain 
flowers,  fruits,  &c.,  so  now  it  offers  the 
flowers  and  the  fruits  of  every  season 
united.  How  it  becomes  possessed  of  all 
these,  I  shall  not  pretend  to  say:  but 
thus  much  I  am  bound  to  add  by  way  of 


information, — that  those  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen who  have  country-houses  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Clapham-common  o- 
Camberwell-grove,  may  now  have  the 
pleasure  of  eating  the  best  fruit  out  oi 
their  own  gardens — provided  they  choose 
to  pay  the  price  of  it  in  Covent-garden 
market."* 

The  observer  of  nature,  where  nature 
can  alone  be  fully  enjoyed,  will  perceive, 
that,  in  this  month,  "  among  the  birds, 
we  have  something  like  a  renewal  of  the 
spring  melodies.  In  particular,  the  thrush 
and  blackbird,  who  have  been  silent  for 
several  weeks,  recommence  their  songs, — 
bidding  good  bye  to  the  summer,  in  the 
same  subdued  tone  in  which  they  hailed 
her  approach — wood-owls  hoot  louder 
than  ever;  and  the  lambs  bleat  shrilly 
from  the  hill-side  to  their  neglectful  dams  ; 
and  the  thresher's  flail  is  heard  from  the 
unseen  barn ;  and  the  plough-boy's  whistle 
comes  through  the  silent  air  from  the 
distant  upland  ;  and  snakes  leave  their 
last  year's  skins  in  the  brakes — literally 
creeping  out  at  their  own  mouths  ;  and 
acorns  drop  in  showers  from  the  oaks,  at 
every  wind  that  blows  ;  and  hazel-nuts 
ask  to  be  plucked,  so  invitingly  do  they 
look  forth  from  their  green  dwellings  ; 
and,  lastly,  the  evenings  close  in  too 
quickly  upon  the  walks  to  which  their 
serene  beauty  invites  us,  and  the  mornings 
get  chilly,  misty,  and  damp." 

Finally,  "  another  singular  sight  be- 
longing to  this  period,  is  the  occasional 
showers  of  gossamer  that  fall  from  the 
upper  regions  of  the  air,  and  cover  every 
thing  like  a  veil  of  woven  silver.  You 
may  see  them  descending  through  the 
sunshine,  and  glittering  and  flickering  in 
it,  like  rays  of  another  kind  of  light.  Or 
if  you  are  in  time  to  observe  them  before 
the  sun  has  dried  the  dew  from  off  them 
in  the  early  morning,  they  look  like  robes 
of  fairy  tissue-work,  gemmed  with  innu- 
merable jewels."f 

SEPTEMBEB. 
An  Ode. 

Farewell  the  pomp  of  Flora !  vivid  scene ! 

Welcome  sage  Autumn,  to  invert  the  year — 
Farewell  to  summer's  eye-delighted  green  ! 

Her  verdure  fades — autumnal  blasts  are  near 
The  silky  wardrobe  now  is  laid  aside, 
With  all  the  rich  regalia  of  her  pride. 


Mirror  of  the  Months. 


t  Ibid, 


1189 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  1. 


1190 


And  must  we  bid  sweet  Philomel  adieu  ? 

She  that  was  wont  to  charm  us  in  the  grove  ? 
Mast  Nature  s  livery  wear  a  sadder  hue, 

And  a  dark  canopy  be  stretch'd  above  ? 
Yes — for  September  mounts  his  ebon  throne, 
And  the  smooth  foliage  of  the  plain  is  gone. 

libra,  to  weigh  the  harvest's  pearly  store, 
The  golden  balance  poizes  now  on  high, 

The  calm  serenity  of  Zephyr  o'er, 

Sol's  glittering  legions  to  th'  equator  fly, 

At  the  same  hour  he  shows  his  orient  head, 

And,  warn'd  by  Thetis,  sinks  in  Ocean's  bed. 

Adieu  !  ye  damask  roses,  which  remind 

The  maiden  fair-one,  how  her  charms  decay ; 

Ye  rising  blasts,  oh  !  leave  some  mark  behind, 
Some  small  memorial  of  the  sweets  of  May  ; 

Ah !  no — the  ruthless  season  will  not  hear, 

Nor  spare  one  glory  of  the  ruddy  year. 

No  more  the  waste  of  music  sung  so  late 
From  every  bush,  green  orchestre  of  love, 

For  now  their  winds  the  birds  of  passage  wait, 
And  bid  a  last  farewell  to  every  grove  ; 

While  those,  whom  shepherd-swains  the  sleep- 
ers call, 

Choose  their  recess  in  some  sequester'd  wall. 

Yet  stilt  shall  sage  September  boast  his  pride, 
Some  birds  shall  chant,  some  gayer  flowers 
shall  blow, 

Nor  is  the  season  wholly  unallied 

To  purple  bloom ;  the  haler  fruits  shall  grow, 

The  stronger  plants,  such  as  enjoy  the  cold, 

And  wear  a  livelier  grace  by  being  old. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR.    . 
Mean  Temperature 63  •  69. 


GILES. 

This  popular  patron  of  the  London 
district,  which  furnishes  the  "  Mornings 
at  Bow-street"  with  a  large  portion  of 
amusement,  is  spoken  of  in  vol.  i.  col. 
1149. 


Until  this  day  partridges  are  protected 
by  act  of  parliament  from  those  who  are 
"  privileged  to  kill." 

Application  for  a  License. 
In  the  shooting  season  of  1821,  a  fash- 
ionably dressed  young  man  applied  to 
sir  Robert  Baker  for  a  license  to  kill  — 
not  game,  but  thieves.  This  curious  ap- 
plication was  made  in  the  most  serious 
and  business-like  manner  imaginable. 


"Can  I  be  permitted  to  speak  a  few  words 
to  you,  sir?"  said  the  applicant.  "Cer- 
tainly, sir,"  replied  sir  Robert.  "  Then 
I  wish  to  ask  you,  sir,  whether,  if  I  am 
attacked  by  thieves  in  the  streets  or  roads, 
I  should  be  justified  in  using  fire-arms 
against  them,  and  putting  them  to  death  ?" 
Sir  Robert  Baker  replied,  that  every  man 
had  a  right  to  defend  himself  from  robbers  . 
in  the  best  manner  he  could  ;  but  at  the 
same  time  he  would  not  be  justified  in 
using  fire-arms,  except  in  cases  of  the 
utmost  extremity.  "  Oh  !  I  am  very 
much  obliged  to  you,  sir  ;  and  I  can  be 
furnished  at  this  office  with  a  license  to 
carry  arms  for  that  purpose?"  The  answer, 
of  course,  was  given  in  the  negative, 
though  not  without  a  good  deal  of  sur- 
prise at  such  a  question,  and  the  inquirer 
bowed  and  withdrew. 

THE  FIRST  OF  SEPTEMBER. 
Here  the  rude  clamour  of  the  sportsman's 

'oy» 

The  gun  fast-thundering,  and  the  winded  horn, 
Would  tempt  toe  muse  to  sing  the  rural  game  ; 
How,  in  his  mid-career,  the  spaniel  struck, 
Stiff,  by  the  tainted  gale,  with  open  nose, 
Out-stretched,  and  finely  sensible,  draws  full, 
Fearful,  and  cautious,  on  the  latent  prey  ; 
As  in  the  sun  the  circling  covey  bask 
Their  varied  plumes,  and  watchful  every  way 
Through  the  rough  stubble  turn  the  secret  eye. 
Caught  in  the  meshy  snare,  in  vain  they  beat 
Their  idle  wings,  entangled  more  and  more  : 
Nor  on  the  surges  of  the  boundless  air, 
Though  borne  triumphant,  are  they  safe  ;  the 


Glanc 


gun, 
d  just, 
eye, 


and  sudden,  from  the  fowler's 


Overtakes  their  sounding  pinions  ;  and  again, 
Immediate   brings   them   from   the   towering 


Dead  to  the  ground  :  or  drives  them  wide- 

dispers'd, 
Wounded,  and   wheeling  various,  down   the 

wind. 

These  are  not  subjects  for  the  peaceful  muse, 
Nor  will  she  stain  with  such  her  spotless  song  \ 
Then  most  delighted,  when  she  social  sees 
The  whole  mix'd  animal  creation  round 
Alive,  and  happy.     'Tis  not  joy  to  her, 
This  falsely-cheerful  barbarous  game  of  death  ' 
This  rage  of  pleasure,  which  the  restless  youth 
Awakes  impatient,  with  the  gleaming  morn ; 
When  beasts  of  prey  retire,  that  all  night  long, 
Urg'd  by  necessity,  had  rang'd  the  dark, 
As  if  their  conscious  ravage  shunn'd  the  light, 
Asham'd.     Not  so  the  steady  tyrant  man, 
Who  with  the  thoughtless  insolence  of  power 
Inflam'd,  beyond  the  most  infuriate  wrath 
Of  the  worst  monster  that  e'er  roam'd  th« 

waste, 


1191 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  I. 


1192 


For  sport  alone  pursues  the  cruel  chase, 
Amid  the  beamings  of  the  gentle  days. 
Upbraid,  ye  ravening  tribes,  our  wanton  rage, 
For  hunger  kindles  you,  and  lawless  want ; 
But  lavish  fed,  in  nature's  bounty  rolPd, 
To  joy  at  anguish,  and  delight  in  blood, 
Is  what  your  horrid  bosoms  never  knew. 

So  sings  the  muse  of  "  The  Seasons"  on 
Ihe  one  side;  on  the  other,  we  have  "  the 
ay  of  the  last  minstrel"  in  praise  of 
"  Fowling,"  the  "  rev.  John  Vincent,  B.  A. 
curate  of  Constantine,  Cornwall,"  whose 
"  passion  for  rural  sports,  and  the  beau- 
ties of  nature,"  gave  birth  to  "  a  poem 
where  nature  and  sport  were  to  be  the 
only  features  of  the  picture,"  and  wherein 
he  thus  describes. 

Full  of  th'  expected  sport  my  heart  beats 

high, 

And  with  impatient  step  I  haste  to  reach 
The  stubbles,  where  the  scatter'd  ears  afford 
A  sweet  repast  to  the  yet  heedless  game. 
How  my  brave  dogs  o'er  the  broad  furrows 

bound, 
Quart'ring  their  ground  exactly.      Ah !  that 

point 

Answers  my  eager  hopes,  and  fills  my  breast 
With  joy  unspeakable.     How  close  they  lie  ! 
Whilst  to  the  spot  with  steady  pace  I  tend. 
Now  from  the  ground  with  noisy  wing  they 

burst, 

And  dart  away.     My  victim  singled  out, 
In  his  aerial  course  falls  short,  nor  skims 
Th'  adjoining  hedge  o'er  which  the  rest  unhurt 
Have  pass'd.  Now  let  us  from  that  lofty  hedge 
Survey  with  heedful  eye  the  country  round  j 
That  we  may  bend  our  course  once  more  to 

meet 

The  scatter'd  covey :  for  no  marker  waits 
Upon  my  steps,  though  hill  and  valley  here, 
With  shrubby  copse,  and  far  extended  brake 
Of  high-grown  furze,  alternate  rise  around. 

Inviting  is  the  view, — far  to  the  right 
In  rows  of  dusky  green,  potatoes  stretch, 
With  turnips  mingled  of  a  livelier  hue. 
Towards  the  vale,  fenc  d  by  the  prickly  furze 
That  down  the  hill  irregularly  slopes, 
Upwards  they  seem'd  to  fly ;  nor  is  their  flight 
Long  at  this  early  season.     Let  us  beat, 
With    diligence    and    speed    restrain'd,    the 

ground, 
Making  each  circuit  good. 

Near  yonder  hedge-row  where  high  grass 

and  ferns 

The  secret  hollow  shade,  my  pointers  stand. 
How  beautiful  they  look!   with  outstretch'd 

tails, 

With  heads  immovable  and  eyes  fast  fix'd, 
One  fore-leg  rais'd  and  bent,  the  other  firm, 
Advancing  forward,  presses  on  the  ground  ! 
Convolved  and  flutt'ring  on  the  blood  stain'd 

earth, 

The  partridge  lies : — thus  one  by  one  they  fall, 
Save  what  with  happier  fate  escape  untouch'd, 


And  o'er  the  open  fields  with  rapid  speed 
To  the  close  shelt'ring  covert  wing  their  way. 
When   to   the    hedge-rows   thus   the    birds 

repair, 

Most  certain  is  our  sport ;  but  oft  in  brakes 
So  deep  they  lie,  that  far  above  our  head 
The  waving  branches  close,  and  vex'd  we  hea 
The  startled  covey  one  by  one  make  off. 
Now  may  w^  visit  some  remoter  ground  ; 
My  eager  wishes  are  insatiate  yet, 
And  end  but  with  the  sun. 

Yet  happy  he, 

Wlvo  ere  the  nooontide  beams  inflame  the  skies, 
Has  bagg'd  the  spoil;  with  lighter  step  he 

treads, 

Nor  faints  so  fast  beneath  the  scorching  ray. 
The  morning  hours  well  spent,  should  mighty 

toil 

Require  some  respite,  he  content  can  seek 
Th'  o'er-arching  shade,  or  to  the  friendly  farm 
Betake  him,  where  with  hospitable  hand 
His    simple    host    brings   forth   the    gratefu 

draught 

Of  honest  home-brew'd  beer,  or  cider  cool. 
Such  friendly  treatment  may  each  fowler  find 
Who  never  violates  the  farmer's  rights, 
Nor  witii  injurious  violence,  invades 
His  fields  of  standing  corn.     Let  us  forbear 
Such  cruel  wrong,  though  on  the  very  verge 
Of  the  high  waving  field  our  days  should  point. 

The  pen  of  a  country  gentleman  com- 
municates  an  account  of  a  remarkable 
character  created  by  "  love  of  the  gun" 

THE  LOSCOE  MISER. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book.. 

About  sixty  years  ago,  at  Loscoe,  a 
small  village  in  Derbyshire,  lived  James 
Woolley,  notorious  for  thiee  things,  the 
very  good  clocks  he  made,  his  eccentric 
system  of  farming,  and  the  very  great 
care  he  took  of  his  money.  He  was,  like 
Elwes  and  Dancer,  an  old  bachelor,  and 
for  the  same  reason,  it  was  a  favourite 
maxim  with  him,  and  ever  upon  his  lips, 
that  "  fine  wives  and  fine  gardens  are 
mighty  expensive  things :"  he  conse- 
quently kept  at  a  very  respectful  distance 
from  both.  He  had,  indeed,  an  uncon- 
querable dread  of  any  thing  "  fine,"  or 
that  approached  in  any  way  that  awful 
and  ghost-like  term  "  expensive." 

It  would  seem  that  Wool  ley's  avaricious 
bias,  was  not,  as  is  generally  the  case,  his 
first  ruling  passion,  though  a  phrenolo- 
gist, might  entertain  a  different  opinion 
"  When  young,"  says  Blackner  in  his  His- 
tory of  Nottinghamshire,  "he  was  partial 
to  shooting ;  but  being  detected  at  his 
sport  upon  the  estate  of  the  depraved 


1193 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.--SEPTEMBER  1. 


1194 


William  Andrew  Home,  Esq.  of  Butterly 
(who  was  executed  on  the  1 1  th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1759,  at  Nottingham,  for  the  murder 
of  a  child)  and  compelled  by  him  to  pay 
Ihe  penalty,  he  made  a  vow  never  to  ceai>e 
from  labour,  except  when  nature  com- 
pelled him,  till  he  had  obtained  sufficient 
property  to  justify  him  in  following  his 
favourite  sport,  without  dreading  the 
frowns  of  his  haughty  neighbour.  He 
accordingly  fell  to  work,  and  continued 
at  it  till  he  was  weary,  when  he  rested,  and 
"  to  it  again," — a  plan  which  he  pursued 
without  any  regard  to  night  or  day.  He 
denied  himself  the  use  of  an  ordinary 
bed,  and  of  every  other  comfort,  as  well 
as  necessary,  except  of  the  meanest  kind. 
But  when  he  had  acquired  property  to 
qualify  him  to  carry  a  gun,  he  had  lost 
all  relish  for  the  sport ;  and  he  continued 
to  labour  at  clock-making,  except  when 
he  found  an  opportunity  of  trafficking  in 
land,  till  he  had  amassed  a  considerable 
fortune,  which  he  bequeathed  to  one  of 
his  relations.  I  believe  he  died  about 
1770." 

It  must  have  been  a  singular  spectacle 
to  any  one  except  Woolley's  neighbours, 
who  were  the  daily  observers  of  his  habits, 
to  have  seen  a  man  worth  upwards  of 
20,000/.  up  at  five  in  the  morning  brush- 
ing away  with  his  bare  feet  the  dew  as  he 
fetched  up  his  cows  from  the  pasture,  his 
shoes  and  stockings  carefully  held  under 
his  arm  to  prevent  them  from  being  in- 
jured by  the  wet ;  though,  by  the  by,  a 
glance  at  them  would  have  satisfied  any 
one  they  had  but  little  to  fear  from  the 
dew  or  any  thing  else.  A  penny  loaf 
boiled  in  a  small  piece  of  linen,  made  him 
an  excellent  pudding ;-  this  with  a  half- 
penny worth  of  small  beer  from  the  vil- 
lage alehouse  was  his  more  than  ordinary 
dinner,  and  rarely  sported  unless  on  holy- 
days,  or  when  he  had  a  friend  or  tenant 
to  share  the  luxury. 

Once  in  his  life  Woolley  was  convicted 
of  liberality.  He  had  at  great  labour  and 
expense  of  time  made,  what  he  considered, 
a  clock  of  considerable  value,  and,  as  it 
was  probably  too  large  for  common  pur- 
loses,  he  presented  it  to  the  corporation 
•f  Nottingham,  for  the  exchange.  In  re- 
turn he  was  made  a  freeman  of  the  town. 
They  could  not  have  conferred  on  him  a 
greater  favour  :  the  honour  mattered  not 
— but  election-dinners  were  things  which 
powerfully  appealed  through  his  stomach 
to  his  heart.  The  first  he  attended  was 
productive  of  a  ludicrous  incident.  His 


shabby  and  vagrant  appearance  nearly 
excluded  him  from  the  scene  of  good-eat- 
ing, and  even  when  the  burgesses  sat 
down  to  table,  no  one  seemed  disposed 
to  accommodate  the  miserly  old  gentle- 
man with  a  seat.  The  chairs  were  quickly 
filled:  having  no  time  to  lose,  he  crept 
under  the  table  and  thrusting  up  hib  head 
forced  himself  violently  into  one,  but  not 
before  he  had  received  some  heavy  blows 
on  the  bare  skull. 

The  most  prominent  incident  in  his 
history,  was  a  ploughing  scheme  of  his 
own  invention.  He  had  long  lamented 
that  he  kept  horses  at  a  great  expense  for 
the  purposes  of  husbandry.  To  have  kept 
a  saddle-horse  would  have  been  extrava- 
gant— and  at  last  fancying  he  could  do 
without  them,  they  were  sold,  and  the 
money  caiefully  laid  by.  This  was  a  tri- 
umph— a  noble  saving  !  The  winter  pass- 
*ed  away,  and  his  hay  and  corn-stacks 
stood  undiminished ;  ploughing  time  how- 
ever arrived,  and  his  new  plan  must  be 
carried  into  effect.  The  plough  was 
drawn  from  its  inglorious  r'esting- place, 
and  a  score  men  were  summoned  from 
the  village  to  supply  the  place  of  horses. 
At  the  breakfast-table  he  was  not  without 
fears  of  a  famine — he  could  starve  him- 
self, but  a  score  of  brawny  villagers,  hun- 
gry, and  anticipating  a  hard  day's  work, 
would  eat,  and  drink  too,  and  must  be  sa- 
tisfied. They  soon  proceeded  to  the  field, 
where  a  long  continued  drought  had  made 
the  ground  almost  impenetrable  ;  the  day 
became  excessively  hot,  and  the  men  tug- 
ged and  puffed  to  little  purpose;  they 
again  ate  heartily,  and  drank  more  good 
ale  than  the  old  man  had  patience  to 
think  .of;  anddifficultas.it  was,  to  force 
the  share  through  the  unyielding  sward, 
it  was  still  more  difficult  to  refrain  from 
laughing  out  at  the  grotesque  figure  their 
group  presented.  They  made  many  wry 
faces,  and  more  wry  furrows,  and  spoiled 
with  their  feet  what  they  had  not  plough- 
ed amiss.  But  this  was  not  all.  Had  a 
balloon  been  sent  up  from  the  field  it 
could  scarcely  have  drawn  together  more 
intruders;  he  tried,  but  in  vain,  to  keep 
them  off;  they  thronged  upon  him  from 
all  quarters  ;  his  gates  were  all  set  open 
or  thrown  off  the  hooks ;  and  the  fences 
broken  down  in  every  direction.  Woolley 
perceived  his  error ;  the  men,  the  rope 
traces,  and  the  plough  were  sent  home  in  a 
hurry,  and  with  some  blustering,  and  many 
oaths,  the  trespassers  were  got  rid  of.  The" 
fences  were  mended,  and  the  gates  re- 


1195 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  2. 


1196 


placed,  and  having  to  his  heart's  content 
gratified  his  whim,  he  returned  to  the 
old-fashioned  custom  of  ploughing  with 
horses,  until  in  his  brains'  fertility  he 
could  discover  something  better  and  less 
"  expensive  !" 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  60  •  40. 


LONDON  BURNT,  1666. 

This  notice  in  our  almanacs  was  de- 
scriptively illustrated  in  vol.  i.  col.  1150, 
165.  -- 

BARTHOLOMEW  FAIR,  1826. 

Another  year  arrives,  and  spite  of  cor- 
poration "  resolutions,"  and  references  to 
"  the  committee,"  and  "  reports,"  and 
"  recommendations/'  to  abolish  the  fair, 
it  is  held  again.  "  Now,"  says  an  agree- 
able observer,  "  Now  arrives  that  Satur- 
nalia of  nondescript  noise  and  nonconfor- 
mity, *  Bartlemy  fair  ;'  —  when  that  prince 
of  peace-officers,  the  lord  mayor,  changes 
his  sword  of  state  into  a  sixpenny  trum- 
pet, and  becomes  the  lord  of  misrule  and 
the  patron  of  pickpockets  ;  and  lady  Hol- 
land's name  leads  an  unlettered  mob  in- 
stead of  a  lettered  one  ;  when  Mr.  Rich- 
ardson maintains,  during  three  whole 
days  and  a  half,  a  managerial  supremacy 
that  must  be  not  a  little  enviable  even  in 
the  eyes  of  Mr.  Elliston  himself;  and 
-Mr.  Gyngell  holds,  during  the  same  pe- 
riod, a  scarcely  less  distinguished  station 
as  the  Apollo  of  servant-maids  ;  when 
*  the  incomparable  (not  to  say  eternal} 
young  Master  Saunders'  rides  on  horse- 
back to  the  admiration  of  all  beholders, 
in  the  person  of  his  eldest  son  ;  and  when 
all  the  giants  in  the  land,  and  the  dwarfs 
too,  make  a  general  muster,  and  each 
proves  to  be,  according  to  the  most  cor- 
rect measurement,  at  least  a  foot  taller  or 
shorter  than  any  other  in  the  fair,  and  in 
fact,  the  only  one  worth  seeing,  —  'all  the 
rest  being  impostors  !'  In  short,  when 
every  booth  in  the  fair  combines  in  itself 
the  attractions  of  all  the  rest,  and  so  per- 
plexes with  its  irresistible  merit  the  rapt 
imagination  of  the  half-holyday  school- 
boys who  have  got  but  sixpence  to  spend 
upon  the  whole,  that  they  eye  the  out- 
sides  of  each  in  a  state  of  pleasing  de- 
spair, till  rheir  leave  of  absence  is  expired 
twice  over,  and  then  return  home  filled 
with  visions  of  giants  and  gingetbread- 


nuts,  and  dream  all  night  long  of  what 
they  have  not  seen.'7* 

The  almanac  day  for  Bartholomew  fair, 
is  on  the  third  of  the  month,  which  this 
year  fell  on  a  Sunday,  and  it  being  pre- 
scribed that  the  fair  shall  be  proclaimed 
"  on  or  before  the  third,"  proclamation 
was  accordingly  made,  and  the  fair  com- 
menced on  Saturday  the  second  of  Sep- 
tember, 1826.  Its  appearance  on  that 
and  subsequent  days,  proves  that  it  is 
going  out  like  the  lottery,  by  force  of  public 
opinion;  for  the  people  no  longer  buy 
lottery  tickets  even  in  "  the  last  lottery," 
nor  pay  as  they  used  to  do  at  "  Bartlemy 
fair. '  There  were  this  year  only  three 
shows  at  sixpence,  and  one  at  twopence  ; 
all  the  rest  were  "  only  a  penny." 

The  sixpenny  shows  were,  Clarke,  with 
riders  and  tumblers ;  Richardson,  with  his 
tragi-comical  company,  enacting  "  Paul 
Pry;0  and  wicked  Wombwell,  with  his 
fellow  brutes. 

In  the  twopenny  show  were  four  lively 
little  crocodiles  about  twelve  inches  long, 
hatched  from  the  eggs  at  Peckham,  by 
steam ;  two  larger  crocodiles ;  four  cages 
of  fierce  rattle  snakes ;  and  a  dwarf  lady. 

In  the  penny  shows  were  a 'glass-blower, 
sitting  at  work  in  a  glass  wig,  with  rows 
of  curls  all  over,  making  pretty  little  tea- 
cups at  threepence  eachr  and  miniature 
tobacco  pipes  for  a  penny ;  he  was  as- 
sisted by  a  wretched  looking  female,  who 
was  a  sword-swallower  at  the  last  figure, 
and  figured  in  this  by  placing  her  feet  on 
hot  iron,  and  licking  a  poker  nearly  red 
hot  with  her  tongue.  In  "  Brown's  grand 
company  from  Paris/'  there  were  juggling, 
tight-rope  dancing,  a  learned  horse,  and 
playing  on  the  salt-box  with  a  rolling-pin, 
to  a  tune  which  is  said  to  be  peculiar  to 
the  pastime.  The  other  penny  shows 
were  nearly  as  last  year,  and  silver-haired 
ladies  and  dwarfs,  more  plentiful  and  less 
in  demand  than  learned  pigs,  who,  on 
that  account,  drew  "  good  houses." 

In  this  year's  fair  there  was  not  one 
"  up-and-down,"  or  "  round-about." 

The  west  side  of  Giltspur-street  was  an 
attractive  mart  to  certain  "  men  of  let- 
ters;" for  the  ground  was  covered  with 
"  relics  of  literature."  In  the  language 
of  my  informant,  for  I  did  not  visit  the 
fair  myself,  there  was  a  "  path  of  genius" 
from  St.  Sepulchre's  church  to  Cock-lane. 
He  mentions  that  a  person,  apparently  an 

*  Mir -or  of  the  Month*. 


1197 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  2. 


1J98 


agent  of  a  religious  society,  was  anxiously 
busy  in  the  fair  distributing  a  bill  en- 
titled— "  Are  you  prepared  to  die?  " 


ROMAN  REMAINS  AT  PENTONVILLE, 

and 
THE  WHITE  CONDUIT. 

I  am  not  learned  in  the  history  1br  the 
science  of  phrenology,  but,  unless  I  am 
mistaken,  surely  in  the  days  of  "  cranio- 
logy,5'  the  organ  of  inhabitiveness "  was 
called  the  organ  of  "  travelling."  Within 
the  last  minute  I  have  felt  my  head  in 
search  of  the  development.  I  imagine  it 
must  be  very  palpable  to  the  scientific, 
for  I  not  only  incline  to  wander  but  -to 
locate.  However  that  may  be,  I  cannot 
find  it  myself — for  want,  I  suppose,  of  a 
topographical  view  of  the  cranium,  and  I 
have  not  a  copy  of  Mr.  Cruikshank's 
"  Illustrations  of  Phrenology"  to  refer  to. 
At  home,  I  alway?  at  in  the  same  place 
if  I  can  make  my  wty  to  it  without  dis- 
turbing the  children ;  all  of  whom,  by  the 
by,  (I  speak  of  the  younger  ones,)  are 
great  sticklers  for  rights  of  sitting,  and 
urge  their  claims  on  each  other  with  a 
persistence  which  takes  all  my  authority 
to  abate.  I  have  a  habit,  too,  at  a  friend's 
.house  of  always  preferring  the  seat  I 
dropped  into  on  my  first  visit ;  and  the 
same  elsewhere.  The  first  time  I  went  to 
the  Chapter  Coffee-house,  some  five-and- 
twenty  years  ago,  I  accidentally  found 
myself  alone  with  old  Dr.  Buchan,  in  the 
same  box ;  it  was  by  the  fireplace  on  the 
left  from  Paternoster-row  door:  poor 
Robert  Heron  presently  afterwards  enter- 
ed, and  then  a  troop  of  the  doctor's  fami- 
liars dropped  in,  one  by  one;  and  I  sat  in 
the  corner,  a  stranger  to  all  of  them,  and 
therefore  a  silent  auditor  of  their  pleasant 
disputations.  At  my  next  appearance  I 
forbore  from  occupying  the  same  seat, 
because  it  would  have  been  an  obtrusion 
on  the  literary  community;  but  I  got  into 
the  adjoining  box,  and  that  always,  for  the 
period  of  my  then  frequenting  the  house, 
was  my  coveted  box.  After  an  absence 
of  twenty  years,  I  returned  to  the  "  Chap- 
ter," and  involuntarily  stepped  to  the  old 
spot ;  it  was  pre-occupied ;  and  in  the 
doctor's  box  were  other  faces,  and  talkers 
of  other  things.  I  strode  away  to  a  dis- 
tant part  of  the  room  to  an  inviting 
vacancy,  which,  from  that  accident,  and 
my  propensity,  became  my  desirable  sit- 
ting place  at  every  future  visit.  My  strolls 
abroad  are  of  the  same  character.  I  pre- 


fer walking  where  I  walked  when  novelty 
was  charming ;  where  I  can  have  the 
pleasure  of  recollecting  that  I  formerly 
felt  pleasure — of  rising  to  the  enjoyment  of 
a  spirit  hovering  over  the  remains  it  had 
animated. 

One  of  my  oldest,  and  therefore  one  of 
my  still-admired  walks  is  by  the  way  of 
Islington.  I  am  partial  to  it,  because, 
when  T  was  eleven  years  old,  I  went  every 
evening  from  my  father's,  near  Red  Lion- 
square,  to  a  lodging-  in  that  village  "  for 
a  consumption,"  and  returned  the  follow- 
ing morning.  I  thus  became  acquainted 
with  Canonbury,  and  the  Pied  Bull,  and 
Barnesbury-park,  and  White  Conduit- 
house;  and  the  intimacy  has  been  kept 
up  until  presumptuous  takings  in,  and 
enclosures,  and  new  buildings,  have  nearly 
destroyed  it.  The  old  site  seems  like  an 
old  friend  who  has  formed  fashionable 
acquaintanceships,  and  lost  his  old  heart- 
warming smiles  in  the  constraint  of  a  new 
face. 

In  my  last  Islington  walk,  I  took  a 
survey  of  the  only  remains  of  the  Roman 
encampment,  near  Barnesbury-park.  This 
is  a  quadrangle  of  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty  feet,  surrounded  by  a  fosse  or 
ditch,  about  five-and-twenty  feet  wide, 
and  twelve  feet  deep.  It  is  close  to  the 
west  side  of  the  present  end  of  the 
New  Road,  in  a  line  with  Penton-street ; 
immediately  opposite  to  it,  on  the  east 
side  of  the  road,  is  "built  a  row  of  houses, 
at  present  uninhabited,  called  Minerva- 
place.  This  quadrangle  is  supposed  to 
have  been  the  praetor ium  or  head  quarters 
of  Suetonius,  when  he  engaged  the  British 
queen,  Boadicea,  about  the  year  60.  The 
conflict  was  in  the  eastward  valley  below, 
at  the  back  of  Pentonville.  Here  Boadicea, 
with  her  two  daughters  before  her  in  the 
xsame  war-chariot,  traversed  the  plain, 
haranguing  her  troops;  telling  them,  as 
Tacitus  records,  "that  it  was  usual  to 
the  Britons  to  war  under  the  conduct  of 
women,"  and  inciting  them  to  "  ven- 
geance for  the  oppression  of  public  liberty, 
for  the  stripes  inflicted  on  her  person,  for 
the  defilement  of  her  virgin  daughters ; " 
declaring  "  that  in  that  battle  *l>ey  must 
remain  utterly  victorious  or  utterly  ptr-s^  : 
such  was  the  firm  purpose  of  her  who 
was  a  woman ;  the  men,  if  they  pleased, 
might  still  enjoy  life  and  bondage."  The 
slaughter  was  terrible,  eighty  thousand  of 
the  Britons  were  left  dead  on  the  field ;  it 
terminated  victoriously  for  the  Romans, 
near  Gray's-inn-lane,  at  the  place  called 
"  Battle  Bridge,"  in  commemoration  of 
the  event. 


• 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  2. 


1300 


$rrtarftim  of  tt)t  &mnan  Camp  mar  $entonbflk. 


The  pencil  of  the  artist  has  been  em- 
ployed to  give  a  correct  and  picturesque 
representation  as  it  now  appears,  in  Sep- 
tember, 1826,  of  the  last  vestige  of  the 
Roman  power  in  this  suburb.  The  view 
is  taken  from  the  north-east  angle  of  the 
prsetonum.  Until  within  a  few  years  the 
ground  about  it  was  unbroken  ;  and,  even 
now,  the  quadrangle  itself  is  surprisingly 


complete,  considering  that  nearly  eighteen 
centuries  have  elapsed  since  it  was  formed 
by  the  Roman  soldiery.  In  a  short  time  the 
spirit  of  improvement  will  entirely  efface 
it,  and  houses  and  gardens  occupy  its  site 
In  the  fosse  of  this  station,  which  is 
overrun  with  sedge  and  brake,  there  is 
so  pretty  a  "bit,"  to  use  an  artist's  word, 
that  I  have  caused  it  to  be  sketched. 


1201 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  2. 


1202 


This  may  be  more  pleasantly  regarded 
when  the  ancient  works  themselves  have 
vanished.  Within  a  few  yards  of  the 
western  side  of  the  fosse,  and  parallel 
with  it,  there  is  raised  a  mound  or  ram- 
part of  earth.  It  is  in  its  original  state 
and  covered  with  verdure.  In  fine  morn- 
ings a  stray  valitudinarian  or  two  may  be 
seen  pacing  its  summit.  Its  western  slope 


has  long  been  the  Sunday  resort  of  Irish- 
men for  the  game  of  foot-ball. 

Getting  back  into  the  New  Road,  its 
street  which  stands  on  fields  I  rambled 
in  when  a  boy,  leads  to  "  White  Conduit- 
house,"  which  derives  its  name  from  a 
building  still  preserved,  1  was  going  to 
say.  but  I  prefer  to  say,  still  standing. 


Mr.  Joseph  Fussell  who  resides  within 
sight  of  this  little  edifice,  and  whose  pencil 
took  the  Roman  general's  station,  and 
ihe  well,  also  drew  this  Conduit ;  and 
his  neighbour,  Mr.  Henry  White,  engraved 
the  three,  as  they  new  present  themselves 
to  the  reader's  eye. 

The  view  of  the  "  White  Conduit"  is 
from  the  north,  or  back  part,  looking 
towards  Pentonville,  with  Pancias  new 
church  and  other  buildings  in  the  distance. 
It  was  erected  over  a  head  of  water  that 
formerly  supplied  the  Charter-house,  and 
bore  a  stone  in  front  inscribed  "  T.  S." 
the  initials  of  Sulton,  the  founder,  with  his 
arms,  and  the  date  "  1641."* 

About  1810,  the  late  celebrated  Wm. 
Huntington,  S.  S.,  of  Providence  chapel, 

*  Nelson'*  History  of  Islington. 


Contwtt 

who  lived  in  a  handsome  house  within 
sight,  was  at  the  expense  of  clearing  the 
spring  for  the  use  of  the  inhabitants  :  but, 
because  his  pulpit  opinions  were  obnox- 
ious, some  of  the  neighbouring  vulgar 
threw  loads  of  soil  upon  it  in  the  night, 
which  rendered  the  water  impure,  and  ob- 
structed its  channel,  and  finally  ceasing  to 
flow,  the  public  was  deprived  of  the  kind- 
ness he  proposed.  The  building  itself 
was  in  a  very  perfect  state  at  that  time, 
and  ought  to  have  been  boarded  up  after 
the  field  it  stood  in  was  thrown  open.  As 
the  new  buildings  proceeded  it  was  in- 
jured and  defaced  by  idle  labourers  and 
boys,  from  mere  wantonness  and  reduced 
to  a  mere  ruin.  There  was  a  kind  of 
upper  floor  or  hayloft  in  it,  which  was 
frequently  a  shelter  to  the  houseless 
wanderer.  A  few  years  ago  some  poor 


1203 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  2. 


1204 


creatures  made  it  a  comfortable  hostel  for 
the  night,  with  a  little  hay.  Early  in  the 
morning  a  passing  workman  perceived 
smoke  issuing  from  the  crevices,  and  as 
he  approached  heard  loud  cries  from 
within.  Some  mischievous  miscreants 
had  set  fire  to  the  fodder  beneath  the 
sleepers,  and  afterwards  fastened  the  door 
on  the  outside  :  the  inmates  were  scorched 
by  the  fire,  and  probably  they  would  all 
have  been  suffocated  in  a  few  minutes,  if 
the  place  had  not  been  broken  open. 
The  "  White  Conduit"  at  this  time  merely 
stands  to  shame  those  who  had  the  power, 
and  neglected  to  preserve  it.  To  the 
buildings  grown  up  around,  it  might 
have  been  rendered  a  neat  ornament,  by 
planting  a  few  trees  and  enclosing  the 
whole  with  an  iron  railing,  and  have  stood 
as  a  monument  of  departed  worth.  This 
vicinity  was  anciently  full  of  springs  and 
stone  conduits ;  the  erections  have  long 
since  gone  to  decay,  and  from  their  many 
waters,  only  one  has  been  preserved, 
which  is  notoriously  deficient  as  a  supply 
to  the  populous  neighbourhood.  During 
the  heats  of  summer  the  inhabitants  want 
this  common  element  in  the  midst  of 
plenty.  The  spring  in  a  neighbouring 
street  is  frequently  exhausted  by  three  or 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  handle 
of  the  pump  is  then  padlocked  till  the  next 
morning,  and  the  grateful  and  necessary 
refreshment  of  spring-water  is  not  to  be 
obtained  without  going  miles  in  search  of 
another  pump.  It  would  seem  as  if  the 
parochial  powers  in  this  quarter  were 
leagued  with  publicans  and  sinners,  to 
compel  the  thirsty  to  buy  deleterious  beer 
and  bowel-disturbing  "  pop,"  or  to  swal- 
low the  New  River  water  fresh  with  im- 
purities from  the  thousands  of  people  who 
daily  cleanse  their  foul  bodies  in  the 
stream,  as  it  lags  along  for  the  use  of  our 
kitchens  and  tea-tables. 


"  White  Conduit-house,"  has  ceased  to 
be  a  recreation  in  the  good  sense  of  the 
word.  Its  present  denomination  is  the 
"  Minor  Vauxhall,"  and  its  chief  attraction 
during  the  passing  summer  has  been  Mrs. 
Bland.  She  has  still  powers,  and  if  their 
exercise  here  has  been  a  stay  and  support 
to  this  sweet  melodist,  so  far  the  establish- 
ment may  be  deemed  respectable.  It  is  a 
ground  for  balloon-flying  and  skittle-play- 
ing, and  just  maintains  itself  above  the 
very  lowest,  so  as  to  be  one  of  the  most 
doubtful  places  of  public  resort.  Recol- 
lections of  it  some  years  ago  are  more  in 
its  favour.  Its  tea-gardens  then  in  sum- 
mer afternoons,  were  well  accustomed 
by  tradesmen  and  their  families ;  they 
are  now  comparatively  deserted,  and  in- 
stead, there  is,  at  night,  a  starveling  show 
of  odd  company  and  coloured  lamps,  a 
mock  orchestra  with  mock  singing,  danc- 
ing in  a  room  which  decent  persons  would 
prefer  to  withdraw  their  young  folks  from 
if  they  entered,  and  fire-works  "  as  usual/' 
which,  to  say  the  truth,  are  usually  very 
good. 

Such  is  the  present  state  of  a  vicinage 
which,  "  in  my  time,"  was  the  pleasantest 
near  spot  to  the  north  of  London.  The  mea- 
dow of  the  "  White  Conduit  "commanded 
an  extensive  prospect  of  the  Hampstead 
and  Highgate  hills,  over  beautiful  pas- 
tures and  hedge-rows  which  are  now 
built  on,  or  converted  into  brick  clamps, 
for  the  material  of  irruption  on  the  re- 
maining glades.  The  pleasant  views  are 
wholly  obstructed.  In  a  few  short  years, 
London  will  distend  its  enormous  bulk  to 
the  heights  that  overlook  its  proud 
city ;  and,  like  the  locusts  of  old,  devour 
every  green  field,  and  nothing  will 
be  left  to  me  to  admire,  of  all  that  I 
admired. 


ELEGY 
Written  in  Bartlemy  Fair,  at  Five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in  1810 

The  clock-bell  tolls  the  hour  of  early  day. 

The  lowing  herd  their  Smithfield  penance  drie, 

The  watchman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way 
And  leaves  the  fair — all  solitude  to  me ! 

Now  the  first  beams  of  morning  glad  the  sight, 

And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds; 
Save  when  the  sheep-dog  bays  with  hoarse  affright. 

And  brutal  drovers  pen  the  unwilling  folds. 


J20.5  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  2. 

Save  that  where  sheltered,  or  from  wind  or  shower, 
The  lock'd-out  'prentice,  or  frail  nymph  complain, 

Of  such  as,  wandering  near  their  secret  bower, 
Molest  them,  sensible  in  sleep,  to  pain. 

Beneath  those  ragged  tents — that  boarded  shade, 
Which  late  display'd  its  stores  in  tempting  heaps ; 

There,  children,  dogs,  cakes,  oysters,  all  are  laid, 
There,  guardian  of  the  whole,  the  master  sleeps. 

The  busy  call  of  care-begetting  morn, 

The  well-slept  passenger's  unheeding  treadj 

The  showman's  clarion,  or  the  echoing  horn, 
Too  soon  must  rouse  them  from  their  lowly  bed. 

Perhaps  in  this  neglected  booth  is  laid 
Some  head  volcanic,  oft  discharging  fire ! 

Hands — that  the  rod  of  magic  lately  sway'd ; 
Toes — that  so  nimbly  danc'd  upon  the  wire. 

Some  clown,  or  pantaloon — the  gazers'  jest, 
Here,  with  his  train  in  dirty  pageant  stood: 

Some  tired-out  posture-master  here  may  rest, 

Some  conjuring  swordsman — guiltless  of  his  blood ! 

The  applause  of  listening  cockneys  to  command, 
The  threats  of  city-marshal  to  despise ; 

To  give  delight  to  all  the  grinning-  band, 
And  read  their  merit  in  spectators'  eyes, 

Is  still  their  boast ; — nor,  haply,  theirs  alone, 
Polito's  lions  (though  now  dormant  laid) 

And  human  monsters,  shall  acquire  renown, 
The  spotted  Negro — and  the  armless  maid! 

Peace  to  the  youth,  who,  slumbering  at  the  Bear, 
Forgets  his  present  lot,  his  perils  past: 

Soon  will  the  crowd  again  be  thronging1  there, 
To  view  the  man  on  wild  Sombrero  cast. 

Careful  their  booths,  from  insult  to  protect, 
These  furl  their  tapestry,  late  erected  high ; 

Nor  longer  with  prodigious  pictures  deck'd, 
They  tempt  the  passing  youth's  astonish'd  eye. 

But  when  the  day  calls  forth  the  belles  and  beaux, 
The  cunning  showmen  each  device  display, 

And  many  a  clown  the  useful  notice  shows, 
To  teach  ascending  strangers — where  to  pay. 

<•••'•.  ' 

Sleep  on,  ye  imps  of  merriment — sleep  on  ! 

In  this  short  respite  to  your  labouring-  train ; 
And  when  this  time  of  annual  mirth  is>  gone, 

May  ye  enjoy,  in  peace,  your  hard -earned  gain!* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  60  •  40. 


1206 


*  The  Morning  Chronicle,  1810. 


120? 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  3. 


1208 


September  3. 

PURTON  FAIR,  WILTS. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

August  18,  1826. 

Dear  Sir, — Perhaps  you,  or  some  of 
your  readers,  may  be  acquainted  with  a 
small  village  in  the  north  of  Wiltshire, 
called  Purton,  very  pleasantly  situated, 
and  dear  to  me,  from  a  child  it;  being  the 
place  where  I  passed  nearly  all  my  boy- 
ish days.  I  went  to  school  there,  and 


On  the  morning  of  the  fair,  as  soon  as 
the  day  begins  to  dawn,  all  is  bustle  and 
confusion  throughout  the  village.  Gipsies 
are  first  sepn  with  their  donkies  approach- 
ing the  place  of  rendezvous  ;  then  the 
village  rustics  in  their  clean  white  Sunday 
smocks,  and  the  lasses  with  their  Sunday 
gowns,  caps,  and  ribands,  hasten  to  the 
green,  and  all  is  mirth  and  gaiety. 

I  cannot  pass  over  a  very  curious  cha- 
racter who  used  regularly  to  visit  the  fair, 
and  I  was  told  by  an  ancient  inhabitant 


there  spent  many  a  pleasant  hour  which     that  he  had  done   so  for   several  years. 
1  now  think  of  with  sincere  delight:  and     He  was  an  old  gipsy  who  had  attained 


sincere  delight;  and 

perhaps  you  will  not  object  to  a  few  par- 
ticulars concerning  a  fair  held  there  on  the 


to  high  favour  with  all  the  younkers  of  the 
place,    from   his  jocular  habits,   curious 


first  day  of  May    and  the  third  day   of    dress,  and  the  pleasant  stories  he  used  to 


September  in  every  year. 

The  spot  whereon  Purton  fair  is  annu- 
ally celebrated,  is  a  very  pleasant  little 
green  called  the  "  close,"  or  play-ground, 
belonging  to  all  the  unmarried  men  in  the 
village.  They  generally  assemble  there 
every  evening  after  the  toils  of  the  day  to 
recreate  themselves  with  a  few  pleasant 
sports.  Their  favourite  game  is  what 
they  call  backswording,  in  some  places 
called  singlestick.  Some  few  of  the  vil- 


relate.  He  called  himself  "  Corey 
Dyne,"  or  "  Old  Corey/'  and  those  are 
the  only  names  by  which  he  was  known. 
He  was  accustomed  to  place  a  little  hat 
on  the  ground,  from  the  centre  of  which 
rose  a  stick  about  three  feet  high,  whereon 
he  put  either  halfpence  or  a  small  painted 
'box,  or  something  equally  winning  to  the 
eye  of  his  little  customers.  There  he 
stood  crying,  "  Now  who  throws  with 
poor  old  Corey — come  to  Corey — come 


lage  have  the  good  fortune  to  be  adepts     to  Corey  Dyne  ;  only  a  halfpenny  a  throw, 


in  that  noble  art,  and  are  held  up  as 
beings  of  transcendent  genius  among  the 
rustic  admirers  of  that  noted  science. 


and  only  once  a  year !"  A  boy  who  had 
purchased  the  right  to  throw  was  placed 
about  three  feet  from  the  hat,  with  a  small 


They  have  one  whom  they  call  their  um-  piece  of  wood  which  he  threw  at  the  arti- 
pire,  to  whom  all  disputes  are  referred,  cle  on  the  stick,  and  if  it  fell  in  the  hat, 
and  he  a'ways,  with  the  greatest  possible  (which  by  the  by  it  was  almost  invariably 
impartiality,  decides  them. 

About  six  years  ago  a  neighbouring 
farmer,  whose  orchard  joins  the  green, 
thought  that  his  orchard  might  be  greatly 
improved.  He  accordingly  set  to  work, 


sure  to  do,)  the  thrower  lost  his  money; 
but  if  out  of  the  hat,  on  the  ground,  the 
article  from  the  stick  was  claimed  by  the 
thrower.  The  good  humour  of  "  Old 
Corey"  generally  ensured  him  plenty  of 


pulled  down  the  original  wall,  and  built  a    custom.     I  have  oftentimes  been  a  loser 


new  one,  not  forgetting  to  take  in  several 
feet  of  the  green.  The  villagers  felt  great 
indignity  at  the  encroachment,  and  re- 
solved to  claim  their  rights.  They  waited 
till  the  new  wall  should  be  complete,  and 
in  the  evening  of  the  same  day  a  party  of 
about  forty  marched  to  the  spot  armed 


with  him,  but  never  a  winner.  I  believe 
that  no  one  in  all  Purton  knows  from 
whence  he  is,  although  every  body  is  ac- 
quainted with  him. 

There  was  a  large  show  on  the  place,  at 
which  the  rustics  were  wont  to  gaze  with 
surprise  and  admiration.  The  chief  object 


with  great  sticks,  pickaxes,  &c.,  and  very  of  their  wonder  was  our  "  punch."  They 

deliberately  commenced  breaking  down  could   not   form  the  slightest  idea  how 

the  wall.      The  owner  on  being  apprised  little  wooden  figures  could  talk  and  dance 

of  what  was  passing,  assembled  all  his  about;  they  supposed  that  there  must  be 

domestics    and    proceeded   to    the   spot,  some  life  in  them.     I  well  remember  that 

when  a  furious  siuffle  ensued,  and  several  I  once  undertook  to   set  them  right,  but 

serious    accidents    happened.      At   last,  was  laughed  at  and  derided   me  for  my 

however,  the  aggressor  finding  he  could  presumption     and     boast     of     superior 

not  succeed,  proposed  a  settlement;  he  knowledge. 

entirely  removed  the  new  wall  on  the  fol-  There    was    also  another   very  merry 

lowing  day,  and  returned  it  to  the  place  fellow   who   frequented   the    fair  by  the 

where  the  old  one  stood.  name  of"  Mr.  Merryman  "    He  obtained 


1203 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  3. 


1210 


gre«t  celebrity  by  giving  various  imita- 
tions of  birds,  &c.,  which  he  would  very 
readily  do  after  collecting  a  sufficient  sum 
"  to  clear  his  pipe,"  as  he  used  to  say. 
He  then  began  with  the  nightingale, 
which  he  imitated  very  successfully,  then 
followed  the  blackbird — linnet — gold- 
finch— robin — geese  and  ducks  on  a  rainy 
morning — turkies,  &c.  &c.  Then,  per- 
haps, after  collecting  some  more  money 
"  to  clear  his  pipe,"  he  would  imitate  a 
jackass,  or  a  cow.  His  excellent  imitation 
of  the  crow  of  a  cock  strongly  affected 
the  risible  muscles  of  his  auditors. 

The  amusements  last  till  near  midnight, 
when  the  rustics,  being  exhilarated  with 
the  effects  pf  good  strong  Wiltshire  ale, 
generally  part  after  a  few  glorious  battles. 

The  next  day  several  champions  enter 
the  field  to  contest  the  right  to  several 
prizes,  which  are  laid  out  in  the  following 
order : — 

1st.  A  new  smock. 

2nd.  A  new  hat  with  a  blue  cockade, 

3rd.  An  inferior  hat  with  a  white 
cockade. 

4th.  A  still  inferior  hat  without  a 
cockade. 

A  stage  is  erected  on  the  green,  and  at 
five  o'clock  the  sport  commences  ;  and  a 
very  celebrated  personage,  whom  they  call 
their  nmpshire,  (umpire,)  stands  high 
above  the  rest  to  award  the  prizes.  The 
candidates  are  generally  selected  from  the 
best  players  at  singlestick,  and  on  this 
occasion  they  use  their  utmost  skill  and 
ingenuity,  and  are  highly  applauded  by  the 
surrounding  spectators.  I  must  not  for- 
get to  remark  that  on  this  grand,  and 
to  them,  interesting  day,  the  inhabit- 
ants of  Purtori  do  not  combat  against 
each  other.  No — believe  me,  sir,  they  are 
better  acquainted  with  the  laws  of  chiv- 
alry. Purton  produces  four  candidates, 
and  a  small  village  adjoining,  called 
Stretton,  sends  forth  four  more.  These 
candidates  are  representatives  of  the  vil- 
lages to  which  they  respectively  belong, 
and  they  who  lose  have  to  pay  all  the  ex- 
penses of  the  day ;  but  it  is  to  the  credit  of 
the  sons  of  Purton  I  record,  that  for  seven 
successive  years  their  candidates  have  been 
returned  the  victors.  The  contest  generally 
lasts  two  hours,  and,  after  that,  the  cere- 
mony of  chairing  the  representatives  takes 
place,  which  is  thus  performed  : — Four 
chairs  made  with  the  boughs  of  trees  are 
in  waiting,  and  the  conquerors  are  placed 
therein  and  carried  through  the  village 
with  every  possible  demonstration  of  joy, 


the  inhabitants  shouting  "  Purton  for 
ever !  huzza !  my  boys,  huzza !"  and 
waving  boughs  over  their  triumphant 
candidates.  After  the  chairing  they  ad- 
journ to  the  village  public-house,  and 
spend  the  remainder  of  the  evening  as 
before. 

The  third  day  is  likewise  a,  day  of 
bustle  and  confusion.  All  repair  to  a 
small  common,  called  the  cricket  ground, 
and  a  grand  match  takes  place  between 
the  Purton  club  and  the  Stretton  club ; 
there  are  about  twenty  candidates  of  a 
side.  The  vanquished  parties  pay  a  shil- 
ling each  to  defray  the  expense  of  a  cold 
collation,  which  is  previously  provided  in 
a  pleasant  little  copse  adjoining  the 
cricket-ground,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
day  is  spent  convivially. 

I  remember  hearing  the  landlord  of  the 
public-house  at  Purton,  (which  is  situated 
on  one  side  of  the  green,)  observe  to  a 
villager,  that  during  the  three  days'  merri- 
ment he  had  sold  six  thousand  gallons  of 
strong  beer  and  ale ;  the  man  of  course 
doubted  him,  and  afterwards  very  sarcas- 
tically remarked  to  me,  "  It's  just  as  asy, 
measter,  for  he  to  zay  zix  thousand  gal- 
lons as  dree  thousand  !"  Does  not  this, 
good  Mr.  Editor,  show  a  little  genuine 
Purton  wit  ? 

I  have  now,  my  dear  sir,  finished,  and 
have  endeavoured  to  describe  three  plea- 
sant days  spent  in  an  innocent  and  happy 
manner;  and  if  I  have  succeeded  in 
affording  you  any  service,  or  your  readers 
any  amusement,  I  am  amply  rewarded. 
Allow  me  to  add  I  feel  such  "an  affection 
for  old  Purton,  that  should  I  at  any  time 
in  my  life  visit  Wiltshire,  I  would  travel 
twenty  miles  out  of  my  road  to  ramble 
once  more  in  the  haunts  of  my  boyhood. 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Sir, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

August,  18,  1826.  C.  T. 

P.  S.  Since  writing  the  above  I  have 
received  a  letter  from  a  very  particular 
friend  who  went  to  Purton  school  five 
years,  to  whom  I  applied  for  a  few  extra 
particulars  respecting  the  fair,  &c.,  and 
he  thus  writes,  "  Dear  C.  You  seem  to 
think  that  with  the  name  I  still  retain  all 
the  characteristics  and  predilections  of  a 
hodge  ;  and  therefore  you  seek  to  me  for 
information  respecting  the  backsword- 
playing,  fair,  &c.  Know  that  as  to  the 
first,  it  is  (and  has  been  for  the  last  two 
years)  entirely  done  away  with,  as  the 
principal  *  farmers '  in  the  place  '  done 


1211  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  3.  1212 

like  it,  and  so  don't  suffer  it.      As  to  the  long  as  they  keep  up  their  fairs,  the  other 

fair,  where  lads  and  lasses  meet  in  their  loss  will  not  be  so  much  felt.         C.  T. 

best    gowns,   and    ribands,    and    clean  

smocks,  you  must  know,  most  assuredly,  August  30,  1 826. 

more  of  it  than  I  do,  as  I  seldom  troubled         I  forgot  to  mention  in  my  particulars  of 

about  it.      You  must  bear  in  mind  that  Purton-fair,  that  Old  Corey,  and  the  other 

this  fair  is  exactly  the  same  as  that  held  celebrated  worthies,  only  come  to  the  Sep- 

in  the  month  of  May,  but  as  no  notice  tember  fair,  as  the  May  fair  is  disregarded 

has  been   taken   of  it   by   Mr.  Hone   in  by  them,  it  being  a  fair  principally  for  the 

either  of  his  volumes,  I  suppose  it  very  sale  of  cattle,  &c.  and  the  September  fair 

little  matters  whether  your  description  is  is  entirely  devoted  to  pleasure.     Perhaps 

of  the  fair  held  in  May  or  September."  you   can   introduce   this  small  piece   of 

I  have  to  lament,  my  dear  sir,  the  dis-  intelligence,  together  with  the  following 

continuance   of   the   ancient   custom   of  doggrel  song  written  for  the  occasion, 
backswording  at  Purton  village ;  but  so  C.  T. 

TO  THE  WORTHY  AND  RESPECTABLE  INHABITANTS  OF  PURTON, 

This  SONG  is  most  respectfully  inscribed, 
By  their  ever  true  and  devoted  humble  servant, 

CHARLES  TOMLINSON. 
SONG. 

PURTON  FAIR. 

Come,  neighbours,  listen,  I'll  sing  you  a  song, 
Which,  I  assure  you,  will  not  keep  you  long ; 
I'll  sing  a  good  song  about  old  Purton  fair, 
For  that  is  the  place,  lads,  to  drive  away  care. 

The  damsels  all  meet  full  of  mirth  and  of  glee, 
And  they  are  as  happy  as  happy  can  be ; 
Such  worth,  and  such  beauty,  fairs  seldom  display, 
And  sorrow  is  banished  on  this  happy  day. 

There's  the  brave  lads  of  Purton  at  backsword  so  clever, 
Who  were  ne'er  known  to  flinch,  but  victorious  ever ; 
The  poor  boys  of  Stretton  are  basted  away, 
For  Purton's  fam'd  youths  ever  carry  the  day. 

Tis  "  Old  Corey  Dyne,"  who  wisely  declares, 
Stretton's  lads  must  be  beaten  at  all  Purton's  fairs ; 
They  can't  match  our  courage,  then,  huzza!  my  boys, 
To  still  conquering  Purton  let's  kick  up  a  noise. 

"  Old  Corey's"   the  merriest  blade  in  the  fan, 
What  he  tells  us  is  true,  so,  prithee,  don't  stare ; 
"  Remember  poor  Corey,  come,  pray  have  a  throw, 
Tis  but  once  a  year,  as  you  very  well  know." 

But — here  ends  my  song,  so  let's  haste  to  the  green, 
Tis  as  pretty  a  spot  as  ever  was  seen ; 
And  if  you  are  sad  or  surrounded  with  care, 
Haste  quickly  1  haste  quickly!  to  OLD  PURTON  -FAIR. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  61  •  07. 


1213 


THE  EVERT  -DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  4,  5,  6. 


1214 


4. 


How  TO  KEEP  APPLES. 

Gather  them  dry,  and  put  them  with 
clean  straw,  or  clean  chaff,  into  casks; 
cover  them  up  close,  and  put  them  into  a 
cool  dry  cellar.  Fruit  will  keep  perfectly 
good  a  twelvemonth  in  this  manner. 

How  to  mark  your  fruit. 

Let  the  cultivator  of  choice  fruit  cut  in 
paper  the  initial  letters  of  his  name,  or 
any  other  mark  he  likes  ;  and  just  before 
his  peaches,  nectarines,  8cc.  begin  to  be 
coloured,  stick  such  letters  or  mark  with 
gum-water  on  that  side  of  the  fruit  which 
is  next  the  sun.  That  part  of  the  rind 
which  is  under  the  paper  will  remain 
green,  in  the  exact  form  of  the  mark,  and 
and  so  the  fruit  be  known  wheresoever 
*bund,  for  the  mark  cannot  be  obliterated. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .   59  •  92. 

September  5. 

OLD  BARTHOLOMEW. 

This  day  has  been  so  marked  in  our 
almanacs  since  the  new  style. 

THE  SEASON. 

We  may  expect  Tery  pleasant  weather 
during  this  month.  For  whether  the  sum- 
mer has  been  cold,  warm,  or  showery, 
September,  in  all  latitudes  tying  between 
45  and  55  degrees  north,  produces,  on  an 
average,  the  finest  and  pleasantest  weather 
of  the  year  :  as  we  get  farther  south  the 
pleasantest  temperature  is  found  in  Octo- 
ber ;  more  northward  than  55  degrees 
the  chills  of  autumn  are  already  arrived, 
and  we  must  look  for  temperature  to 
August.* 

THE  GYMNASIUM. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Hsec  opera  atque  hae  sunt  generosi  Principis  artes. 
Juv.Sat.8.L.224. 

Let  cricket,  tennis,  fives,  and  ball, 
The  active  to  amusement  call  ; 
Let  sportsmen  through  the  fields  at  morn 
Discharge  the  gun  and  sound  the  horn,  — 
Gymnastic  sport  shall  fill  my  hours, 
Renew  my  strength  and  tone  my  powers. 


•  Perennial  Calendar. 


I  learn  to  climb,  to  walk  and  run, 
I  make  defence,  and  dangers  shun  ; 
Now  quick,  now  slow,  now  j 
I  stand  in  air  and  vault  the  sky  j 
The  sailor's  skill,  the  soldier's  part, 
I  compass  by  Gymnastic  art. 

All  life's  concerns  require  that  health 
Should  be  secured  to  gather  wealth  ; 
That  limb  and  muscle,  nerve  and  vein, 
Should  vigorous  force  and  motion  gain  :  — 
Seek  the  Gymnasium,  —  try  the  plan, 
And  be  the  strong  and  graceful  man. 

The  Olympic  games,  of  Grecian  birth, 
Gave  many  a  youth  athletic  worth  ; 
Hence  Romans  shone  ;  —  hence  Britons  fought, 
The  Picts  and  Vandals  influence  caught  ; 
The  lance,  the  spear,  and  arrow  flew, 
And  prove  what  deeds  Gymnastics  do. 

With  ease  the  horseman  learns  to  ride 
And  keep  his  hobby  in  his  pride  ; 
Bloodless  the  feats  are  here  pursued, 
And  vanquished  contests  are  renewed. 
Hey  for  Gymnastics  !  —  'tis  the  rage 
Both  with  the  simple  and  the  sage. 

Clias,  and  Voelker  as  the  chief, 
Each  makes  his  charge  and  gives  relief; 
Each  points  his  pupils  to  the  goal, 
And,  more  than  Parry,  gains  the  pole  :  — 
Up  and  be  trim  !  —  the  sport  is  fine,  — 
Fling  down  the  gauntlet,  —  mount  the  line. 

Caleidoscopes  were  once  tne  taste,  — 
Velocipedes  were  rode  for  haste,  — 
Those  fed  the  eye  with  pleasing  views, 
These  ran  the  streets  and  tithed  their  dues  ; 
Thrown  to  the  shade  like  fashions  past, 
Gymnastics  reign,  for  they  are  last. 

Nature  with  art  is  like  a  tower, 
Strong  in  defence  in  every  hour  ; 
Nature  with  art  can  nearly  climb 
The  Alp  and  Appenine  of  time  ; 
Make  life  more  lasting,  life  more  bold, 
By  true  Gymnastic  skill  controlled. 

J.  R.  PRIOR. 
Sept.  1826. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  60  •  35. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  6th  of  September,  1734,  died  in 
France,  the  Sieur  Michael  Tourant,  aged 
ninety-eight,  of  whom  it  is  said  he  never 
eat  salt,  and  had  none  of  the  infirmities  of 
old  age.* 


Gentleman's  Magazine. 


1215 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  7. 


1216 


A  TOTAL  ECLIPSE  IN  CALIGRAPHY. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — As  a  subscriber  to  your  highly 
entertaining  work,  I  take  the  liberty  of 
sending  you  the  following. 

In  the  first  volume  of  the  Every-Day 
Book,  page  1086,  I  found  an  account  of 
some  small  writing,  executed  by  Peter 
Bales,  which  Mr.  D'Israeli  presumed  to 
have  been  the  whole  bible  written  so  small, 
that  it  might  be  put  in  an  English  walnut 
no  bigger  than  a  hen's  egg.  "  The  nut 
holdeth  the  book ;  there  are  as  many  leaves 
in  this  little  book  as  in  the  great  bible, 
and  as  much  written  in  one  of  the  little 
leaves,  as  a  great  leaf  of  the  bible." — There 
is  likewise  an  account  in  the  same  pages 
of  the  "  Iliad "  having  been  written  so 
small  that  it  might  be  put  in  a  nut-shell ; 
which  is  nothing  near  so  much  as  the  above. 

I  have  lately  seen  written  within  the 
compass  of  a  new  penny  piece,  with  the 
naked  eye,  and  with  a  common  clarified 
pen,  the  lord's  prayer,  the  creed,  the  ten 
commandments,  the  sixth,  seventh,  eighth, 
ninth,  tenth,  eleventh,  twelfth,  thirteenth, 
and  fourteenth  collects  after  Trinity,  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  &c.,  the 
name  of  the  writer,  place  of  abode,  nearest 
market  town,  county,  day  of  the  month 
and  date  of  the  year,  all  in  words  at  length, 
and  with  the  whole  of  the  capital  letters 
and  stops  belonging  thereto,  the  Com- 
mandments being  all  numbered.  It  was 
written  by,  and  is  in  the  possession  of, 
Mr.  John  Parker  of  Wingerworth,  neat 
Chesterfield,  Derbyshire :  the  writing  bears 
date  September  10,  1823.  This  piece 
of  writing,  I  find,  upon  calculation,  to  be 
considerably  smaller  than  either  of  the  be- 
fore-mentioned pieces.  My  calculation 
is  as  follows : — 

A  moderate  sized  egg  will  hold  a  book 
one  inch  and  three  quarters  by  one  inch 
and  three-eighths.  Bibles  have  from  about 
sixty  to  eighty  lines  in  a  column;  I  have 
not  seen  more.  In  this  ingenious  display 
of  fine  penmanship,  there  are  eighty  lines 
in  one  inch,  and  two  half-eighths  of 
an  inch,  which  in  one  inch  and  three 
quarters,  (the  length  of  the  bible,)  is  one 
hundred  and  six  lines,  which  would  con- 
tain one-third  more  matter  than  the  bibles 
with  eighty  lines  in  a  column ;  and  one 
line  of  this  writing,  one  inch  and 
two-half  eighths  of  an  inch  in  length, 
(which  is  the  sixteenth  of  an  inch  less  in 
bread  than  the  small  bible,)  is  equal  to 
two  lines  from  one  column  of  the  great 
bible — for  example. 


Isaiah.    Chap.    xxiv. — Two     lines    of 

verse  20,  the  bible  having  seventy-nine 

lines  in  a  column  : — 

"  and  the  transgression  thereof  shall  be  heavy 
upon  il,  aud  it  shall  fall,  and  not  rise  again." 
Ezekiel,  Chap.  xxx. — Two  lines  of 

verse  12,   the    bible   having    sixty-three 

lines  in  a  column  : — 

"  and  I  will  make  the  Land  waste,  aud  all  that 
is  therein,  by  the  hand  of  strangers." 
One  line  of  Mr.  Parker's  writing  being 

part  of  the  seventh  collect  after  Trinity : — 

"  good  things ;  graft  in  our  hearts  the  love  of  thy 
name,  increase  in  us  true  religion,  now" — 

Another  line  being  part  of  the  ninth 
and  tenth  commandments  :— 

"  false  witness  against  thy  neighbour.    10. 

Thou  shall  not  covet  thy  neighbour's  house."— 

Mr.  Parker  very  obligingly  submits 
his  writing  to  the  inspection  of  the  curious, 
and  would  execute  one  similar  for  a  pro- 
per reward.  If  this  account  should  be 


you   something   amusing    respecting   the 
customs,  pastimes,  and  amusements  of  this 
part  of  Derbyshire. 
I  am,  Sir, 

Your  well-wisher 

And  obedient  servant, 

JOHN  FRANCIS  BROWNE. 
Lings,  near  Chesterfield, 
August,  30,  1826. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  59  .  17. 


ENURCHUS. 
For  this  saint,  in  the  church  of  England 
calendar,  see  vol.  i.  col.  1253. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  7th  of  September,  1772,  a  most 
astonishing  rain  fell  at  Inverary,  in  Scot- 
land, by  which  the  rivers  rose  to  such  a 
heighth,  as  to  carry  every  thing  along  with 
the  current  that  stood  in  the  way.  Even 
trees  that  had  braved  the  floods  for  more 
than  one  hundred  years,  were  torn  up  by 
the  roots  and  carried  down  the  stream. 
Numbers  of  bridges  were  swept  away, 
and  the  military  roads  rendered  impassa- 
ble. All  the  duke  of  Argyle's  cascades, 
bridges,  and  bulwarks,  were  destroyed  at 
his  fine  palace,  in  that  neighbourhood.* 

*  Annual  Register. 


1217 


THE  EVERY-DA\  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  7. 


1 2 - 


Baron  asraton,  tfce  Surbam 


A  Latin  line  beneath  his  name 
May  lift  along  the  laureate's  fame, 
As  on  a  crutch,  and  make  it  go 
For  half  an  age,  for  all  to  know 
That  there  was  one,  in  our  time, 
Who  thought  mere  folly  not  a  crime  ; 
And,  though  he  scorn'd  to  be  a  scorner 
And  offer  Brown  to  Poets  Corner, 
Imagined  it  a  fit  proceeding 
To  give  his  life  —  let  who  will  sneer  at 
It  —  "  PALMAM  QUI  MERUIT  FERAT.' 


MR.  JOHN  SYKES,  bookseller,  Johnson's- 
nead,  Newcastle,  in  the  "  Local  Records, 
or  Historical  Register  of  Remarkable 
Events,"  which,  in  1824,  he  compiled  into 
a  very  interesting  octavo  volume,  inserts 
the  death,  with  some  account  of  the  "  life, 
character,  and  behaviour,"  of  the  self- 
celebrated  poet-laureate  of  Durham,  whose 
portrait  adorns  this  page  He  has  not 
been  registered  here  under  the  day  of  his 
decease  accc  rdir  tc  Mr.  Syke's  obit,  but 

VOL.  II.— 9) 


it  is  not  fitting  as  regards  this  work,  thai 
Brown  should  die  for  ever,  and  therefore, 
from  a  gentleman  who  knew  him,  the 
reader  will  please  to  accept  the  following 

MEMOIR  OF  JAMES  BROWN. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
This  curious  personage  was  well  known 
for  a  long  series  of  years  to  the  inhab- 
itants of  Northumberland  and   Durham, 
and  we  believe  few  men  have  figured  on 


1219 


THE  EVEttY-DAY  BOOK,— SEPTEMBER  7. 


1220 


the  stage  of  the  world  more  remarkable 
for  their  peculiarities  and  eccentricities. 

Of  the  early  part  of  James  Brown's  life 
little  is  known  that  can  be  depended 
upon,  but  the  compiler  of  the  present 
article  has  heard  him  assert  that  he  was 
born  at  Berwick-on-Tweed  ;  if  this  be 
the  case  it  is  probable  he  left  that  town  at 
a  very  early  age,  as  in  his  speech  none  of 
the  provincialisms  of  the  lower  order  of 
inhabitants  of  Berwick  could  be  observed, 
and  had  he  resided  there  for  any  length  of 
time,  he  must  have  imperceptibly  imbibed 
the  vulgar  dialect.  Certain,  however,  it 
is,  that  when  a  young  man  he  resided  in 
that  "fashionable"  part  of  Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne  called  "  the  Side,"  where  he 
kept  a  rag-shop,  and  was  in  the  habit  of 
attending  the  fairs  in  the  neighbourhood 
with  clothes  ready-made  for  sale.  During 
his  residence  in  Newcastle  his  first  wife 
died ;  of  this  person  he  always  spoke  in 
terms  of  affection,  and  was  known  long 
after  her  death^-toshed  tears  on  her  being 
alluded  to.  In  all  probability  it  was  ow- 
ing to  his  loss  of  her  that  his  mind  became 
disturbed,  and  from  an  industrious  trades- 
man he  became  a  fanatic.  A  few  years 
after  her  decease  he  married  a  Miss  Rich- 
ardson, of  Durham,  a  respectable  though 
a  very  eccentric  character,  and  who  sur- 
vived him  a  year.  This  lady  being  pos- 
sessed of  a  theatre,  and  some  other  little 
property  in  Durham,  he  removed  to  that 
city  to  reside. 

When  Brown  first  devoted  himself  to 
the  muses  is  uncertain,  but  about  thirty- 
three  years  ago,  he  lived  in  New- 
castle, styled  himself  the  poet-laureate 
of  that  place,  and  published  a  poem  ex- 
planatory of  a  chapter  in  the  Apocalypse, 
which  was  "  adorned"  with  a  hideous 
engraving  of  a  beast  with  ten  horns.  Of 
this  plate  he  always  spoke  in  terms  of 
rapture.  We  have  heard  that  it  was  de- 
signed by  the  bard ;  but  as  Mr.  B.,  though 
a  poet,  never  laid  any  claim  to  the  cha- 
racter of  an  artist,  it  is  our  belief  that  he 
had  no  hand  in  its  manufacture,  but  that 
it  was  the  work  of  some  of  those  waggish 
friends  who  deceived  him  by  their  tricks, 
and  rendered  his  life  a  pleasure.  Their 
ingenious  fictions  prevented  his  dwelling 
on  scenes  by  which  his  existence  might 
have  been  embittered,  and  it  is  but  justice 
to  his  numerous  hoaxers  to  assert,  that 
without  their  pecuniary  assistance  he 
would  have  often  been  in  want  of  com- 
mon necessaries.  Though  credulous  he 
was  honest;  though  poor  he  was  possessed 


of  many  virtues  ;  and  while  they  laughed 
at  the  fancies  of  the  visionary,  they  re- 
spected the  man.  Brown  once  indulged 
a  gentleman  in  Durham  with  a  sight  of 
the  drawing  above  alluded  to,  and  on  a 
loud  laugh  at  what  the  poet  esteemed  the 
very  perfection  of  terrific  sublimity,  Brown 
told  him  "  he  v/as  no  Christian,  or  he 
would  not  deride  a  scriptural  drawing 
which  the  angel  Gabriel  had  approved  /" 
Brown's  poesy  was  chiefly  of  a  serious 
nature,  (at  least  it  was  intended  to  be  so,) 
levity  and  satire  were  not  his  forte.  Like 
Dante,  his  imagination  was  gloomy — he 
delighted  to  describe  the  torments  of  hell 
— the  rattling  of  the  chains,  and  the 
screams  of  the  damned ;  the  mount  of 
Sisyphus  was  his  Parnassus,  the  Styx  was 
his  Helicon,  and  the  pale  forms  that  flit  by 
Lethe's  billows,  the  muses  that  inspired 
his  lay.  His  poems  consisted  chiefly  of 
visions,  prophecies,  and  rhapsodies,  sug- 
gested by  some  part  of  the  sacred  volume 
of  the  contents  of  which  he  had  an  aston- 
ishing recollection.  When  he  was  at  the 
advanced  age  of  ninety-two  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  quote  any  passage  of  scrip- 
ture to  him  without  his  remembering  the 
book,  chapter,  and  frequently  the  verse 
from  whence  it  was  taken.  Of  his  poetry 
(though  in  his  favourite  city  he  has  left 
many  imitators)  we  cannot  say  any  thing 
in  praise ;  it  had  "  neither  rhyme  nor 
reason,"  it  was  such  as  a  madman  would 
inscribe  on  the  walls  of  his  cell.  His  song, 
like  that  of  the  witches  in  Thalaba,  was 
"  an  unintelligible  song"  to  all  but  the 
writer,  on  whose  mind  in  reading  it,  to 
use  the  words  of  one  of  the  sweetest  of 
our  modern  poets,  "  meaning  flashed  like 
strong  inspiration."  The  only  two  lines 
in  his  works  that  have  any  thing  like 
meaning  in  them  are — • 

"  When  men  let  Satan  rule  their  heart 
They  do  act  the  devil's  part." 

Our  author's  last,  and  as  he  esteemed 
it,  his  best  work — his  monumentum  cere 
perennius,  was  a  pamphlet  published  in 
Newcastle  in  1820,  by  Preston  and 
Heaton,  at  the  reasonable  price  of  one 
shilling;  for,  unlike  his  brother  bards, 
Mr.  Brown  never  published  in  an  expen- 
sive form.  He  was  convinced  that  merit 
would  not  lie  hid  though  concealed  in  a 
pamphlet,  but  likeTerence's  beauty,  diu  la- 
tere  non  potest,  and  that  nonsense,  though 
printed  in  quarto  with  the  types  of  a 
Davison,  would  be  still  unnoticed  and 
neglected.  On  his  once  being  shown  the 


1221 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  7 


1'222 


quarto  edition  of  the  "  White  Doe,"  and 
old  that  he  ought  to  publish  in  a  similar 
manner,  his  answer  was  that  "  none  but 
the  devil's  poets  needed  fine  clothes  V 
The  pamphlet  above  alluded  to  was  en- 
titled "  Poems  on  Military  Battles,  Naval 
Victories,  and  other  important  subjects, 
the  most  extraordinary  ever  penned,  a 
Thunderbolt  shot  from  a  Lion's  Bow  at 
Satan's  Kingdom,  the  Kingdom  of  the 
Devil  and  the  Kingdom  of  this  World 
reserving  themselves  in  darkness  for  the 
great  and  terrible  Day  of  the  Lord,  as 
Jude,  the  servant  of  God,  declareth  :  'By 
JAMES  BROWN,  P.  L."  This  singular 
work  was  decorated  with  a  whole 
length  portrait  of  the  author  tread- 
ing on  the  "devil's  books,"  and  blowing  a 
trumpet  to  alarm  sinners ;  it  was,  as  we 
have  heard  him  say,  the  work  of  a  junior 
pupil  of  the  ingenious  Mr.  Bewick. 

During  the  contest  for  Durham,  in 
1820,  a  number  of  copies  of  an  election 
squib,  written  by  a  humble  individual 
connected  with  a  northern  newspaper, 
and  entitled  "  A  Sublime  Epistle,  Poetic 
and  Politic,  by  James  Brown,  P.  L."  was 
sent  him  for  distribution;  these,  after 
printing  an  explanatory  address  on  the 
back  of  the  title,  wherein  he  called. him- 
self S.  S.  L.  D.,  the  "  Slayer  of  Seven 
Legions  of  Devils,"  and  disowned  the  au- 
thorship, he  turned  to  his  own  emolument 
by  selling  at  sixpence  a  copy. 

In  religious  affairs  Brown  was  ex- 
tremely superstitious  ;  he  believed  in  every 
mad  fanatic  who  broached  opinions  con- 
trary to  reason  and  sense.  The  wilder  the 
theory,  the  more  congenial  to  his  mind. 
He  was  successively  a  believer  in  Wesley, 
Messrs.  Buchan,  Huntington,  Imanuel 
Swedenburg,  and  Joanna  Southcote  ;  had 
he  lived  a  little  longer  he  would  probably 
have  been  "  a  ranter."  He  was  a  great 
reader,  and  what  he  read  he  remembered. 
The  bible,  of  which  he  had  a  very  old 
and  curious  pocket  edition  in  black  letter, 
was  his  favourite  work ;  next  to  that  he 
esteemed  Alban  Butler's  wonderful  lives 
of  the  saints,  to  every  relation  of  which 
he  gave  implicit  credit,  though,  strange  to 
tell,  he  was  in  his  conversation  always 
violent  against  the  idolatries  of  the  catholic 
church. 

When  Brown  was  a  follower  of  Mr. 
Buchan,  he  used  to  relate  that  he  fasted 
forty  days  and  forty  nights,  and  it  is  to 
this  subject  that  veterinary  doctor  Mar- 
shall, of  Durham,  hig  legitimate  successor, 


alludes  in  the  following  lines  of  an  elegy 
he  wrote  on  the  death  of  his  brother  poet 
and  friend  :— 

"  He  fasted  forty  days  and  nights 
When  Mr.  Buchan  put  to  rights 

The  wicked,  for  a  wonder ; 
And  not  so  much,  it  has  been  thought, 
As  weigh'd  the  button  on  his  coat, 
He  took  to  keep  sin  under." 

So  said  a  Bion  worthy  of  such  an 
Adonis  !  but  other  accounts  differ.  If 
we  may  credit  Mr.  Sykes,  the  respectable 
author  of  "Local  Records/'  Marshall 
erred  in  supposing  that  the  poet,  came- 
lion-like,  lived  on  air  for  "  forty  days  and 
forty  nights."  Mr.  Sykes  relates  that  in 
answer  to  a  question  he  put  to  him  as  to 
how  he  contrived  for  so  long  a  time  to 
sustain  the  cravings  of  nature,  Brown  re- 
plied, that  "  they  (he  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  of  fasters)  only  set  on  to  the  fire  a 
great  pot,  in  which  they  boiled  water,  and 
then  stirred  into  it  oatmeal,  and  supped 
that  r 

Brown,  was  very  susceptible  of  flat- 
tery, and  all  his  life  long  constantly 
received  letters  in  rhyme,  purporting  to 
come  from  Walter  Scott,  Byron,  Shelley, 
Southey,  Wilson,  and  other  great  poets ; 
with  communications  in  prose  from  the 
king  of  England,  the  emperor  of  Morocco, 
the  sultan  of  Persia,  &c.  All  of  these  he 
believed  to  be  genuine,  and  was  in  the 
habit  of  showing  as  curiosities  to  his 
friends,  who  were  frequently  the  real 
authors,  and  laughed  in  their  sleeves  at 
his  credulity. 

In  1821,  Brown  received  a  large  parch- 
ment, signed  G.  R.,  attested  by  Messrs. 
Canning  and  Peel,  to  which  was  sus- 
pended a  large  unmeaning  seal,  which  he 
believed  to  be  the  great  seal  of  Great 
Britain.  This  document  purported  to  be 
a  patent  of  nobility,  creating  him  "  baron 
Durham,  of  Durham,  in  the  county 
palatine  of  Durham."  It  recited  that 
this  title  was  conferred  on  him  in  conse- 
quence of  a  translation  of  his  works  hav- 
ing been  the  means  of  converting  the 
Mogul  empire !  From  that  moment  he 
assumed  the  name  and  style  of  "  baror. 
Brown,"  and  had  a  wooden  box  made  fiu 
the  preservation  of  his  patent. 

Of  the  poetic  pieces  which  Brown  was 
in  the  habit  of  receiving,  many  were  close 
imitations  of  the  authors  whose  names 
were  affixed  to  them,  and  evinced  tnat 
the  writers  were  capable  of  better  things. 
One  "  from  Mr.  Coleridge,"  was  a  re- 


1223 


THE  EVEIft-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  7. 


1224 


spectable  burlesque  of  the  "  Ancient  Mar- 
iner," and  began : — 

It  is  a  lion's  trumpeter, 
And  he  stoppeth  one  of  three. 

Another,  "  from  Mr.  Wilson,"  com- 
menced thus  : — 

Poetic  dreams  float  round  me  now, 
My  spirit  where  art  thou  ? 
Oh  !  art  thou  watching  the  moonbeams  smile 
On  the  groves  of  palm  in  an  Indian  isle  ; 
Or  dost  thou  hang  over  the  lovely  main 
And  lisj  to  the  boatswain's  boisterous  strain  ; 
Or  dost  thou  sail  on  sylphid  wings 
Through  liquid  fields  of  air, 
Or,  riding  on  the  clouds  afar, 
Dost  thou  gaze  on  the  beams  of  the  evening 
star 

So  beautiful  and  so  fair. 
O  no  I  O  no  !  sweet  spirit  of  mine 
Thou  art  entering  a  holy  strain  divine 

A  strain  which  is  so  swee!, 
Oh,  one  might  think  'twas  a  fairy  thing, 
A  thing  of  love  and  blessedness, 
Singing  in  holy  tenderness, 
A  lay  of  peaceful  quietness, 

Within  a  fairy  street  1 
But  ah  !  'tis  BROWN,  &c.  &c. 

A  piece  "  from  Walter  Scott"  opened 
with  : — 

The  heath-cock  shrill  his  clarion  blew 
Among  the  heights  of  Benvenue, 
And  fast  the  sportive  echo  flew, 

Adown  Glenavin's  vale. 
But  louder,  louder  was  the  knell, 
Of  Brown's  Northumbrian  penance-bell,* 
The  noise  was  heard  on  Norham  fell, 

And  rung  through  Teviotdale. 

These  burlesques  were  chiefly  produced 
by  the  law  and  medical  students  in  New- 
castle and  Durham,  and  the  young  gentle- 
men of  the  Catholic  College  of  Ushaw, 
near  the  latter  place.  As  the  writer  of 
this  sketch  was  once  congratulating  Mr. 
Brown  on  his  numerous  respectable  cor- 
respondents, the  old  man  said  that  he 
had  an  acquaintance  far  superior  to  any 
of  his  earthly  ones,  and  no  less  a  person- 
age than  the  angel  Gabriel,  who,  he 
stated,  brought  him  letters  from  Joanna 
Southcote,  and  call  to  carry  back  his  an- 
swers !  This  "  Gabriel"  was  a  young 
West  Indian  then  residing  in  Durham, 
who  used  to  dress  himself  in  a  sheet  with 


*  Ringing   the    penance-bell  was  an  expression 
which  frequently  occurred  in  his  writings.     As — 
We  toll'd  the  devil's  penance-bell, 
And  warn'd  you  to  keep  from  hell,  &c. 
The  penance-bell  occurs  three   or  four  times  in 
each  of  His  sevrnl  poems. 


goose  wings  on  his  shoulders  and  visit 
the  poet  at  night,  with  letters  purporting 
to  be  written  to  him  in  heaven  by  the  far- 
famed  prophetess.  After  "  Gabriel"  left 
Durham,  Brown  was  frequently  told  of 
the  deception  which  had  been  practised 
upon  him,  but  he  never  could  be  induced 
to  believe  that  his  nocturnal  visiter  was 
any  other  than  the  angel  himself.  "  Did 
I  not,"  he  once  said,  "  see  him  clearly  fly 
out  at  the  ceiling  !"  Brown  used  to  cor- 
respond with  some  of  Joanna's  followers 
in  London,  on  the  subject  of  these  sup- 
posed revelations,  and  actually  found  (ere- 
dite  poster i]  believers  in  the  genuineness. 

Amongsi  Brown's  strange  ideas,  one 
was  that  he  was  immortal,  and  should 
nevei  die.  Under  this  delusion  when  ill 
he  ref  sed  all  medical  assistance,  and  it 
induced  him  at  the  age  of  90  to  sell  the 
little  property  which  he  acquired  by  mar- 
riage, for  a  paltry  guinea  a  woek,  to  be 
paid  during  the  life  of  himself  and  Mrs. 
Brown,  and  the  life  of  the  survivor.  The 
property  he  parted  from,  in  consideration 
of  ihis  weekly  stipend,  was  a  leasehold 
house  in  Sadler-street,  (the  theatre  having 
been  pulled  down  soon  after  the  erection 
of  the  present  one  opposite  to  it,)  and  the 
house  was  conveyed  to  two  Durham 
tradesmen,  Robinson  Emmerson  and 
George  Slonehouse,  by  whom  the  allow- 
ance was  for  some  time  regularly  paid; 
but  on  the  latter  becoming  embarrassed 
in  his  circumstances,  the  payment  was 
discontinued,  and  poor  Brown  and  his 
aged  wife  were  thrown  on  the  world  with- 
out a  farthing,  at  a  time  when  bodily  and 
mental  infirmities  had  rendered  them  in- 
capable of  gaining  a  livelihood.  Far  be  it 
from  the  writer  of  this  to  cast  any  asper- 
sion on  Messrs.  Emmerson  and  Stone- 
house,  but  it  does  certainly  appear  to  him 
that  their  conduct  to  Brown  was  unkind 
to  say  the  least  of  it.  After  this  calamity 
Brown  became  for  a  few  months  an  inha- 
bitant of  a  poor-house,  which  he  subse- 
quently left  for  a  lodging  at  an  obscure 
inn,  where,  on  the  llth  of  July,  1823,  he 
died  in  a  state  of  misery  and  penury  at 
the  advanced  age  of  92  :  his  wife  shortly 
afterwards  died  in  the  poorhouse.  They 
are  both  interred  in  the  churchyard  of 
St.  Oswald. 

Such  was  James  Brown  the  Durham 
poet,  who  with  all  his  eccentricities  was 
an  honest,  harmless  and  inoffensive  old 
man.  Of  his  personal  appearance,  the 
excellent  portrait  which  accompanies  this 
memoir  from  a  drawing  by  Mr.  Terry 


1225 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  8     P. 


1226 


is  an  exact  resemblance.  All  who  knew 
him  will  bear  testimony  to  its  correctness. 
It  is  indeed  the  only  one  in  existence  that 
gives  a  correct  idea  of  what  he  was.  The 
other  representations  of  him  are  nothing 
better  than  caricatures.  D. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  58  .  45. 


September  8. 

NATIVITY  B.  V.  M. 

The  legend  of  this  festival  retained  in 
the  church  of  England  calendar,  is  re- 
lated in  vol.  i.  col.  1274. 

CHRONOLOGY. 
Fatal  Puppet  Play. 

Extract  from  the  Parish  Register  of 
Burwell,  in  Cambridgeshire,  "  1727,  Sep- 
tember 8.  N.  B.  About  nine  o'clock  in 
the  evening,  a  most  dismal  fire  broke  out 
in  a  barn  in  which  a  great  number  of  per- 
sons were  met  together  to  see  a  puppet- 
show.  In  the  barn  there  were  a  great 
many  loads  of  new  light  straw;  the  barn 
was  thatched  with  straw,  which  was  very 
dry,  and  the  inner  roof  of  the  barn  was 
covered  with  old  dry  cobwebs;  so  that 
the  fire,  like  lightning,  flew  round  the  barn 
in  an  instant,  and  there  was  but  one  small 
door  belonging  to  the  barn,  which  was 
close  nailed  up,  and  could  not  be  easily 
broke  open;  and  when  it  was  opened,  the 
passage  was  so  narrow,  and  every  body 
so  impatient  to  escape,  that  the  door  was 
presently  blocked  up,  and  most  of  those 
that  did  escape,  which  were  but  very  few, 
were  forced  to  crawl  over  the  heads  and 
bodies  of  those  that  lay  on  a  heap  at  the 
door,  and  the  rest,  in  number  seventy-six, 
perished  instantly,  and  two  more  died  of 
their  wounds  within  two  days.  The  fire 
was  occasioned  by  the  negligence  of  a 
servant,  who  set  a  candle  and  lantern  to, 
or  near,  the  heap  of  straw  that  was  in  the 
barn.  The  servant's  name  was  Richard 
Whitaker,  of  the  parish  of  Hadstock,  in 
Essex,  near  Liuton,  in  Cambridgeshire, 
who  was  tried  for  the  fact  at  the  assizes 
held  at  Cambridge,  March  27, 1728,  but 
he  was  acquitted."* 

STAINES  CHURCH,  MIDDLESEX. 

Exhumation. 

In  a  small  apartment  under  the  stair- 
case leading  to  the  gallery  at  the  west 
end  of  the  church,  is  presented  the  sin- 

•  I.yson*. 


gular  and  undesirable  spectacle  of  two 
unburied  coffins,  containing  human  bodies. 
The  coffins  are  covered  with  crimson 
velvet  and  are  otherwise  richly  embellished. 
They  are  placed  beside  each  othei  on 
trestles,  and  bear  respectively  the  follow- 
ing inscriptions  :  — 

"JESSIE  ASPASIA. 

The  most  excellent  and  truly  beloved 
wife  of  F.  W.  Campbell,  Esq.  of  Bar- 
breck,  N.  B.  and  of  Woodlands  in  Surrey. 
Died  in  her  28th  year, 

July  llth,  1812." 

"HENRY  E.  A.  CAULFIEI.D,  ESQ 

Died  Sept.  3,  1808. 

Aged  29  years." 

As  it  was  necessarily  supposed  that 
coffins  thus  open  to  inspection  would 
excite  much  curiosity,  a  card  is  preserved 
at  the  sexton's  house,  which  states,  in 
addition  to  the  intelligence  conveyed  by 
the  above  inscriptions,  that  the  deceased 
lady  was  daughter  of  W.  T.  Caulfield, 
Esq.  of  Rahanduff  in  Ireland,  by  Jessie, 
daughter  of  James,  third  lord  Ruthven  ; 
and  that  she  bore,  with  tranquil  and  ex- 
emplary patience,  a  fatal  disorder  pro- 
duced by  grief  on  the  death  of  her  bro- 
ther, who  removed  from  a  former  place  of 
sepulture,  now  lies  beside  her  in  unburied 
solemnity. 

NATURALIST'S  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  57  •  87. 


THE  SEASON. 
At  this  period  of  the  year  the  fashionable 
people  of  unfashionable  times  were  ac- 
customed to  close  their  sojournments  on 
the  coasts,  and  commence  their  inland 
retreats  before  they  "  came  to  town  for 
good."  In  this  respect  manners  are  al- 
tered. The  salubrity  of  the  ocean-breeze 
is  now  courted,  and  many  families,  in 
defiance  of  gales  and  storms,  spend  the 
greater  part  of  the  winter  at  the  southern 
watering  places.  The  increase  of  this 
remarkable  deviation  deserves  to  be 
noticed,  as  a  growing  accommodation  to 
the  purposes  of  life. 

A  literary  gentleman  on  his  arrival 
from  viewing  the  world  of  waters,  obliges 
the  editor  with  some  original  flowings 
from  his  pen,  so  fresh  and  beautiful,  that 
they  are  submitted  immediately  to  the 
7«?*4er's  enjoyment. 


1327  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  9.  i228 

SONNET. 
Written  in  a  Cottage  by  the  Sea-side.     Hastings. 

Ye,  who  would  flee  from  the  world's  vanities 

From  cities'  riot,  and  mankind's  annoy. 
Seek  this  lone  cot,  and  here  forget  your  sighs, 

For  health  and  rest  are  here— guests  but  too  coy. 
If  the  Vast  ocean,  with  its  boundless  space, 

Its  power  omnipotent,  and  eternal  voice, 

Wean  not  thy  thoughts  from  wearying  folly's  choice, 
And  mortal  trifling,  unto  virtue's  grace, 
To  high  intent,  pure  purpose,  and  sweet  peace, 
Leaving  of  former  bitter  pangs  no  trace ; — 
If  each  unworthy  wish  it  does  not  drown, 

And  free  thee  from  ennui's  unnerving  thrall, 

Then  art  thou  dead  to  nature's  warning  call, 
And  fit  but  for  the  maddening  haunts  of  town. 
August,  182«.  W.T.  M. 

SONNET  STANZA*. 
On  the  Sea. 

I  never  gaze  upon  the  mighty  sea, 

And  hear  its  many  voices,  but  there  steals 
A  host  of  stirring  fancies,  vividly 

Over  my  mind ;  and  memory  reveals 
A  thousand  wild  and  wondrous  deeds  to  me ; 

Of  venturous  seamen,  on  their  daring  keels ; 
And  blood-stain'd  pirates,  sailing  fearlessly ; 

And  lawless  smugglers,  which  each  cave  conceals ; 
In  his  canoe,  the  savage,  roving  free ; 
And  all  I've  read  of  rare  and  strange,  that  be 

On  every  shore,  o'er  which  its  far  wave  peals : 

With  luxuries,  in  which  Imagination  reels, 
Of  bread  fruit,  palm,  banana,  cocoa  tree, 
And  thoughts  of  high  emprize,  and  boundless  liberty  I 

I  ne'er  upon  the  ocean  gaze,  but  I 

Think  of  its  fearless  sons,  whose  sails,  unfurl'd, 
So  oft  have  led  to  Art's  best  victory. 

Columbus  upon  unknown  waters  hurl'd, 
Pursuing  his  sole  purpose,  firm  and  high, 

The  great  discovery  of  another  world ; 
And  daring  Cook,  whose  memory's   bepearled 
With  pity's  tears,  from  many  a  wild  maid's  eye  ; 
Their  Heiva  dance,  in  fancy  I  espy, 

While  still  the  dark  chief's  lip  in  anger  curled  : 
O'er  shipwreck'd  Crusoe's  lonely  fate  I  sigh, 

His  self-form'd  bark  on  whelming  billows  whirled  ; 
And  oft,  in  thought,  I  hear  the  Tritons  cry, 

And  see  the  mermaid  train  light  gliding  bv. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  10. 


1230 


I  never  gaze  upon  the  boundless  deep, 

But  still  I  think  upon  the  glorious  brave, 

Nelson  and  Blake,  who  conquered  but  to 
[  hear  their  thunders  o'er  the  billows  sweep, 

And  think  of  those  who  perish'd  on  the  wave, 
That  Britain  might  a  glorious  harvest  reap ! 

High  hearts  and  generous,  Vain  did  foemen 
Peace  to  their  souls,  and  sweetly  may  they  sleep, 

Entomb'd  within  the  ocean's  lonely  cave ! 

Still  many  a  lovely  eye  for  them  shall  weep, 

Tears,  far  more  precious  than  the  pearls,  that  keep 
Their  casket  there,  or  all  the  sea  e'er  gave, 

To  the  bold  diver's  grasp,  whose  fearless  leap 

With  wealth  enriches,  or  in  death  must  sleep !         W.  T.  A.I. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature    ....  58 


55. 


September  10. 

THE  RAINBOW. 

Behold  yon  bright,  ethereal  bow, 

With  evanescent  beauties  glow ; 

The  spacious  arch  streams  through  the  sky, 

Decked  with  each  tint  of  nature's  dye  : 

Refracted  sunbeams,  through  the  shower, 

A  humid  radiance  from  it  pour  ; 

Whilst  colour  into  colour  lades, 

With  blended  lights  and  softening  shades. 

LUNAR  RAINBOW. 

On  the  10th  of  September,  1802,  a  very 
beautiful  lunar  rainbow  was  observed  at 
Matlock,  in  Derbyshire,  between  the 
hours  of  eight  and  nine  in  the  evening: 
its  effect  was  singularly  pleasing.  The 
colours  of  these  phenomena  are  some- 
times very  well  defined  ;  but  they  have  a 
more  tranquil  tone  than  those  which  ori- 
ginate in  the  solar  beams.  They  are  not 
unfrequent  in  the  vicinity  of  Matlock, 
being  mentioned  by  some  writers  among 
the  natural  curiosities  of  that  delightful 
spot. 

On  Saturday  evening,  September  28, 
1822,  an  extremely  interesting  iris  of  this 
description  was  distinctly  observed  bymany 
persons  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Boston, 
in  Lincolnshire.  It  made  its  appearance 
nearly  north,  about  half-past  eight  in  the 
evening.  This  bow  of  the  heavens  was 
every  way  complete,  the  curvature  entire, 
though  its  span  was  extensive,  and  the 
altitude  of  its  apex  seemed  to  be  about 
20  degrees.  The  darkness  occasioned  by 
some  clouds  pregnant  with  rain,  in  the 
back  ground  of  this  white  arch  of  beauty, 


formed  a  striking  contrast>  while  several 
stars  in  the  constellation  of  Ursa  Major, 
(the  great  bear,)  which  were  for  a  time 
conspicuous,  imparted  additional  grau 
deur  to  the  scene.* 

An  observer  of  a  nocturnal  rainbow  on 
the  17th  of  August  1788,  relates  its 
appearance  particularly.  "  On  Sun- 
day evening,  after  two  days,  on  both 
of  which,  particularly  the  former,  there 
had  been  a  great  deal  of  rain,  together 
with  lightning  and  thunder,  just  as  the 
clocks  were  striking  nine,  three  and 
twenty  hours  after  full  moon,  looking 
through  my  window,  I  was  struck  with 
the  appearance  of  something  in  the  sky 
which  seemed  like  a  rainbow.  Having 
never  seen  a  rainbow  by  night,  I  thought 
it  a  very  extraordinary  phenomenon,  and 
hastened  to  a  place  where  there  were  no 
buildings  to  obstruct  my  view  of  the  he- 
misphere. The  moon  was  truly  'walk- 
ing in  brightness/  brilliant  as  she  could 
be,  not  a  cloud  was  to  be  seen  near  her ; 
and  over-against  her,  toward  the  north- 
west, or  perhaps  rather  more  to  the  north, 
was  a  rainbow,  a  vast  arch,  perfect  in  all 
its  parts,  not  interrupted  or  broken  as 
rainbows  frequently  are,  but  unremittedly 
visible  from  one  horizon  to  the  other.  In 
order  to  give  some  idea  of  its  extent,  it  is 
necessary  to  say,  that,  as  I  stood  toward 
the  western  extremity  of  the  parish  of 
Stoke  Newington,  it  seemed  to  take  its 
rise  from  the  west  of  Hampstead,  and  to 
end,  perhaps,  in  the  river  Lea,  the  eastern 
boundary  of  Tottenham ;  its  colour  was 
white,  cloudy,  or  greyish,  but  a  part  o 
its  western  leg  seemed  to  exhibit  tints  of 

*  Butler's  Chronological  ExereUe*. 


1231 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  10. 


1232 


a  faint,  sickly  green,  I  continued  view- 
ing it  for  some  time,  till  it  began  to  rain  ; 
and  at  length  the  rain  increasing,  and  the 
sky  growing  more  hazy,  I  returned  home 
about  a  quarter  or  twenty  minutes  past 


nine,  and  in  ten  minutes  came  out  again, 
but  by  that  time  all  was  over,  the  moon 
was  darkened  by  clouds,  and  the  rainbow 
of  course  vanished."* 

.     *  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


A  "  walking"  man  should  not  refrain 
To  take  a  saunter  up  Webb's-lane, 
Tow'rds  Shepherd's  bush,  and  see  a  rude 
Old  lumb'ring  pump.     It's  made  of  wood, 
And  pours  its  water  in  a  font 
So  beautiful — that  if  he  do'n't 
Admire  how  such  a  combination 
Was  form'd,  in  such  a  situation, 
He  has  no  power  of  causation, 
Or  taste,  or  feeling ;  but  must  live 
Painless,  and  pleasureless  ;  and  give 
Himself  to  doing  what  he  can  ; 
And  flip  a  sort  of  sort-of-man. 


1233 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  11. 


1234 


Some  persons  walk  the  strait  road  from 
Dan  to  Beersheba,  and  finding  it  firm 
beneath  the  foot,  have  no  regard  to  any 
thing  else,  and  are  satisfied  when  they  get 
to  their  journey's  end.  I  do  not  advise 
these  good  kind  of  people  to  go  to  Ham- 
mersmith ;  but,  here  and  there,  an  out-of- 
the-way  man  will  be  glad  to  bend  his 
course  thitherward,  in  search  of  the  object 
represented.  It  is  fair  to  say  T  have  not 
seen  it  myself:  it  turned  up  the  other  day 
in  an  artist's  sketch-book.  He  had  taken 
it  as  an  object,  could  tell  no  more  than 
that  he  liked  it,  and,  as  I  seemed  struck 
by  its  appearance,  but  could  not  then  go 
to  look  at  it  and  make  inquiries,  he  volun- 
teered his  services,  and  wrote  me  as  fol- 
lows : — "  I  went  to  Hammersmith,  and 
was  some  time  before  I  could  find  the 
place  again :  however,  I  at  length  dis- 
covered it  in  Webb's-lane,  opposite  the 
Thatched-house,  (Mr.  Gowland  is  the  land- 
lord.) There  I  took  some  refreshment, 
and  gained  what  information  I  could, 
which  was  but  little.  The  stone  font 
with  other  things  (old  carved  ornaments, 
&c.,  which  were  used  in  fitting  up  the 
upper  rooms  of  some  cottages  that  the 
pump  belongs  to)  were  purchased  at  a 
sale ;  and  this  was  all  I  could  obtain  at 
the  Thatched-house.  Coming  from  thence 
I  learned  from  a  cobler  at  work  that  there 
was  originally  a  leaden  pump,  but  that  it 
was  doubled  up,  and  rolled  away,  by 
some  thieves,  and  they  attempted  to  take 
the  font,  but  found  it  too  heavy. 
The  Crispin  could  not  inform  me  where 
the  sale  was,  but  he  told  me  where  his 


landlady  lived  and  her  name,  which  was 
Mrs.  Springthorp,  of  Hammersmith,  any 
one  could  tell  me  her  house :  so,  being 
very  tired,  I  took  coach,  and  rode  to 
town  without  inquiry.  Please  to  send  me 
word  whether  I  shall  do  it  for  next  week." 
To  the  latter  inquiry  my  answer  of 
course  was  "  yes ."  but  I  am  as  dark  as 
my  informant,  as  to  the  origin  of  what  he 
calls  the  "  font "  which  forms  the  sink  of 
this  pump.  It  does  not  appear  to  me  to 
be  a  font,  but  a  vase.  I  could  have  wished 
he  had  popped  the  question  to  "  Mrs. 
Springthorp"  respecting  the  place  from 
whence  it  came,  and  concerning  the 
"  other  things,  old  carved  ornaments, 
&c."  I  entreat  some  kind  reader  to 
diligently  seek  out  and  obligingly  ac- 
quaint me  with  full  .  particulars  of 
these  matters.  In  the  mean  time  I  con- 
sole myself  with  having  presented  a  pic- 
turesque object,  and  with  the  hope  of 
being  enabled  to  account  for  the  agreeable 


union. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  07. 


ll. 


WOODLAND  WALKS. 

These  are  delightful  at  any  time.  At 
about  this  season  of  the  year,  1817,  the 
following  poetical  description  appeared  in 
a  newspaper  which  no  longer  exists  :— 


LINES 
BY   Mr.  J  H.  REYNOLDS. 

Whence  is  the  secret  charm  of  this  lone  wood, 
Which  in  the  light  of  evening  sweetly  sleeps  ! — 
I  tread  with  lingering  feet  the  quiet  steeps, 
Where  thwarted  oaks  o'er  their  own  old  age  brood  ;• 
And  where  the  gentler  trees,  in  summer  weather, 
Spring  up  all  greenly  in  their  youth  together ; 
And  the  grass  is  dwelling  in  a  silent  mood, 
And  the  fir-like  fern  its  under  forest  keeps 
In  a  strange  stillness.     My  winged  spirit  sweeps 
Not  as  it  hath  been  wont, — but  stays  with  me 
Like  some  domestic  thing  that  loves  its  home; 
It  lies  a-dreaming  o'er  the  imagery 
Of  other  scenes, — which  from  afar  do  come, 
Matching  them  with  this  indolent  solitude. 
Here, — I  am  walking  in  the  days  gone  by,-.- 
And  under  trees  which  I  have  known  before. 
JVAy  heart  with  feelings  old  is  running  o'er — 


1235  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  12. 

And  I  am  happy  as  the  morning  sky. 
The  present  seems  a  mockery  of  the  past — 
And  all  my  thoughts  flow  by  me,  like  a  stream, 
That  hath  no  home,  that  sings  beneath  the  beam 
Of  the  summer  sun, — and  wanders  through  sweet  meads,— 
In  which  the  joyous  wildflower  meekly  feeds, — 
And  strays, — and  wastes  away  in  wopds  at  last. 
My  thoughts  o'er  many  things  fleet  silently, — 
But  to  this  older  forest  creep,  and  cling  fast. 
Imagination,  ever  wild  and  free, 
With  heart  as  open  as  the  naked  sea, 
Can  consecrate  whate'er  it  looks  upon : — 
And  memory,  that  maiden  never  lone, 
Lights  all  the  dream  of  life.     While  I  can  see 
This  blue  deep  sky, — that  sun  so  proudly  setting 
'In  the  haughty  west, — this  spring  patiently  wetting 
The  shadowy  dell, — these  trees  so  tall  and  fair, 
That  have  no  visiters  but  the  birds  and  air : — 
And  hear  those  leaves  a  gentle  whispering  keep, 
Light  as  young  joy,  and  beautiful  as  sleep, — 
The  melting  of  sweet  waters  in  the  dells, — 
The  music  of  the  loose  flocks'  lulling  bells, 
Which  sinks  into  the  heart  like  spirit's  spells. 
While  these  all  softly  o'er  my  senses  sweep, — 
I  need  not  doubt  that  I  shall  ever  find 
Things,  that  will  feed  the  cravings  of  my  mind. 
My  happiest  hours  were  past  with  those  I  love 
On  steeps ; — in  dells,  with  shadowy  trees  above ; 
And  therefore  it  may  be  my  soul  ne'er  sleeps, 
When  I  am  in  a  pastoral  solitude  : — 
And  such  may  be  the  charm  of  this  lone  wood, 
That  in  the  light  of  evening  sweetly  sleeps. 


CALENDAR.  other  half  of  the  horizon  remained  clear, 

Mean  Temperature  ....  58  .  40.  with   the  sun  shining    bright.      As   the 

black  cloud  approached,  the  sun's   rays 

a-      4.       L         10  tinged  it  of  a  dull  copper  colour,  and  the 

J2>£pl£ttutfr    IS.  reflected  light  caused  all  the  streets  and 

_                -,  houses  to  assume  the  same  lurid  and  me- 

STORM  AT  ENGHIEN.  tallic  hue<    j^  had  a  very  uncommon 

On  the  12th  of  September,  1817,  the  and  impressive  effect.  Before  we  reached 
gentlemen  forming  a  deputation  of  the  the  mayor's  house,  scarce  a  passenger 
"  Caledonian  Horticultural  Society,''  while  was  to  be  seen  in  the  streets;  but  we 
inspecting  Mr.  Parmentier's  gardens  at  remarked  women  at  the  doors,  kneeling, 
Enghein,  were  suddenly  overtaken  by  a  and  turning  their  rosaries  as  they  invoked 
violent  thunder  storm,  and  compelled  to  their  saints.  Meantime  *  thick  and 
flee  for  shelter  to  Mr.  Parmentier's  house,  strong  the  sulphurous  flame  descended  ;' 
"  As  this  thunder  storm  was  of  a  charac-  the  flashes  and  peals  began  to  follow 
ter  different  from  what  we  are  accustomed  each  other  in  almost  instantaneous  sue- 
to  in  Scotland,  and  much  more  striking  cession,  and  the  tout-ensemble  became 
than  what  we  had  witnessed  at  Brussels,  awfully  sublime.  A  sort  of  whirlwind, 
a  short  notice  of  it  may  be  excused. — A  which  even  raised  the  small  gravel  from 
dense,  black  cloud  was  seen  advancing  the  streets,  and  dashed  it  against  the  win- 
fro  m  the  east;  and  as  this  cloud  deve-  dows,  preceded  the  rain,  which  fell  in 
loped  itself  and  increased  in  magnitude,  heavy  drops,  but  lasted  only  a  short  time, 
one-half  of  the  horizon  became  shrouded  The  sun  now  became  obscured,  and  day 
in  darkness,  enlivened  only  by  occasional  seemed  converted  into  night.  Mr.  Par- 
flashes  of  forked  lightning,  while  the  mentier  having  ordered  wine,  his  lady 


1237 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  13, 14,  15. 


1238 


came  to  explain  that  she  could  not  pre- 
vail on  any  of  the  servants  to  venture 
across  the  court  to  the  cellar.  The  mayor, 
hi  spite  of  our  remonstrances,  immedi- 
ately undertook  the  task  himself;  and 
when,  upon  his  return,  we  apologised 
for  putting  him  to  so  much  trouble,  he 
assured  us  that  he  would  not  on  any 
account  have  lost  the  brilliant  sight  he 
had  enjoyed,  from  the  incessant  explo- 
sions of  the  electric  fluid,  in  the  midst  of 
such  palpable  darkness.  Such  a  scene, 
he  added,  had  not  occurred  at  Enghein 
for  many  years;  and  we  reckoned  our- 
selves fortunate  in  having  witnessed  it. 
We  had  to  remain  housed  for  more  than 
two  hours ;  when  the  great  cloud  began 
to  clear  away,  and  to  give  promise  of  a 
serene  and  clear  evening." 

Two  days  before,  on  the  10th,  the  same 
party  had  been  surprised  at  Brussels  by 
a  similar  tempest.  They  were  on  a  visit 
to  the  garden  of  Mr.  Gillet,  and  remark- 
ing on  the  construction  of  his  forcing- 
house.  "  In  this  forcing-house,  as  is 
usual,  the  front  of  the  roof  extends  over 
the  sloping  glass,  till  it  reaches  the  per- 
pendicular of  the  parapet.  Mr.  Gillet 
had  no  doubt,  that  the  object  of  this  sort 
of  structure  is  to  help  to  save  the  glass 
from  the  heavy  falls  of  hail,  which  fre- 
quently accompany  thunder  storms.  Just 
as  he  had  made  this  observation,  we  per- 
ceived menacing  thunder  clouds  approach- 
ing :  the  gardener  hastened  to  secure  his 
glazed  frames;  Mr.  Gillet  took  his  leave; 
and  before  we  could  get  home,  the  whole 
horizon  was  overcast;  lightning  flashed 
incessantly ;  the  streets  seemed  to  have 
been  suddenly  swept  of  the  inhabitants, 
the  shop-doors  were  shut,  and  we  could 
scarcely  find  a  person  of  whom  to  inquire 
the  way." — The  day  had  been  altogether 
sultry  ;  and  at  ten  o'clock  p.  M.  the  mer- 
cury in  the  thermometer  stood  at  seventy- 
two  degrees  Fahrenheit.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  56  •  42. 


13. 


14. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .....  56 


90. 


•  Journal  of  a  Horticultiual  Tour. 


HOLY  CROSS. 

The  origin  of  the  festival  of  "  Holy 
Cross,"  standing  in  the  church  of  Eng- 
land calendar  and  almanacs,  is  related  in 
vol.  i.  col.  1291,  with  some  account  of 
the  rood  and  the  rood-loft  in  churches. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .....  58  •  20. 


September  15. 

"  THE  DEVIL  LOOKING  OVER  LINCOLN." 

On  the  15th  of  September,  1731,  "  the 
famous  devil  that  used  to  overlook  Lin- 
coln college  in  Oxford,  was  taken  down, 
having,  about  two  years  since,  lost  his 
head,  in  a  storm." 

On  the  same  day  in  the  same  year  "  a 
crown,  fixed  on  the  top  of  Whitehall  gate 
in  the  reign  of  king  Charles  II.,  fell  down 
suddenly."* 

The  origin  of  the  statue  of  the  devil 
at  Oxford  is  not  so  certain  as  that  the 
effigy  was  popular,  and  gave  rise  to  the 
saying  of  "  the  devil  looking  over  Lin- 
coln." 


SATANIC  SUPERSTITIONS. 

That  the  devil  has  a  "  cloven  foot," 
which  he  cannot  hide  if  it  be  looked  for 
is  a  common  belief  with  the  vulgar.  "The 
ground  of  this  opinion  at  first,"  says  sir 
Thomas  Browne,  "  might  be  his  frequent 
appearing  in  the  shape  of  a  goat,"  (this 
accounts  also  for  his  horns  and  tail,) 
"  which  answers  this  description.  This 
was  the  opinion  of  the  ancient  Christians, 
concerning  the  apparition  of  panites, 
fauns,  and  satyrs;  and  of  this  form  we 
read  of  one  that  appeared  to  Anthony  in 
the  wilderness."  Mr.  Brand  collects,  re- 
specting this  appearance,  that  Othello 
says,  in  the  "  Moor  of  Venice," 

"  I  look  down  towards  his  feet  ;  but  that's  a 

fable; 
If  that  thou  be'st  a  devil,  I  cannot  kill  thee  j* 

which  Dr.  Johnson  explains  :  "  I  look  to- 
wards his  feet,  to  see,  if,  according  to  the 
common  opinion,  his  feet  be  cloven." 
There  is  a  popular  superstition  both  in 

*  Gentleman's  J'agazine. 


1339 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  15. 


1240 


England  and  Scotland  relative  to  goats : 
that  they  are  never  to  be  seen  for  twenty- 
four  hours  together  ;  and  that  once  in  that 
space,  they  pay  a  visit  to  the  devil  in 
order  to  have  their  beards  combed. 

Baxter,  in  his  "  World  of  Spirits,"  men- 
tions an  anecdote  from  whence  Mr.  Brand 
imagines,  that  "  this  infernal  visitant  was 
in  no  instance  treated  with  more  sang 
froid  on  his  appearing,  or  rather,  perhaps, 
his  imagined  appearance,  than  by  one 
Mr.  White  of  Dorchester."  That  gentle- 
man was  assessor  to  the  Westminster  As- 
sembly at  Lambeth,  and  "  the  devil,  in  a 
light  night,  stood  by  his  bed-side :  he 
looked  awhile  whether  he  would  say  or 
do  any  thing,  and  then  said,  '  If  thou  hast 
nothing  else  to  do,  I  have;  and  so  turned 
himself  to  sleep.'  " 

King  James  I.  told  his  parliament  in  a 
speech  on  a  certain  occasion,  that  "  the 
devil  is  a  busy  bishop"  It  has  been  ob- 
jected to  this  saying  of  "  His  Most  Dread 
Majesty,"  that  it  would  have  sounded 
well  enough  from  a  professed  enemy  to 
the  bench,  "but  came  very  improperly 
from  a  king  who  flattered  them  more,  and 
was  more  flattered  by  them,  than  any 
prince  till  his  time."* 

PRINTERS'  DEVILS. 
As  I  was  going  the  other  day  into  Lin- 
coln's-inn,  (says  a  writer  in  the  "  Grub- 
street  Journal"  of  October  26,  1732,) 
under  a  great  gateway,  I  met  several  lads 
loaded  with  great  bundles  of  newspapers, 
which  they  brought  from  the  stamp-office. 
They  were  all  exceeding  black  and  dirty ; 
from  whence  I  inferred  they  were  "  prin- 
ters' devils,"  carrying  from  thence  the 
returns  of  unfold  newspapers,  after  the 
stamps  had  been  cut  off.  They  stopt 
under  the  gateway,  and  there  laid  down 
their  loads ;  when  one  of  them  made  the 
following  harangue :  **  Devils,  gentlemen, 
and  brethren : — though  I  think  we  have 
no  reason  to  be  ashamed  on  account  of 
the  vulgar  opinion  concerning  the  origin 
of  our  name,  yet  we  ought  to  acknowledge 
ourselves  obliged  to  the  learned  herald, 
who,  upon  the  death  of  any  person  of  title, 
constantly  gives  an  exact  account  of  his 
ancient  family  in  my  London  Evening 
Post.  He  says,  there  was  one  monsieur 
Devile,  or  De  Ville,  who  came  over  with 
William  the  Conqueror,  in  company  with 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


De  Laune,  De  Vice,  De  Val,  D'Ashwood, 
D'Urfie,  D'Umpling,  &c.  One  of  the 
sons  of  a  descendant  of  this  monsieur  De 
Ville,  was  taken  in  by  the  famous  Caxton 
in  1471,  as  an  errand  boy ;  was  afterwards 
his  apprentice,  and  in  time  an  eminent 
printer,  from  whom  our  order  took  their 
name;  but  suppose  they  took  it  from  in- 
fernal devils,  it  was  not  because  they  were 
messengers  frequently  sent  in  darkness, 
and  appeared  very  black,  but  upon  a  re- 
putable account,  viz.,  John  Fust,  or  Faus- 
tus,  of  Mentz,  in  Germany,  was  the  in- 
ventor of  printing,  for  which  he  was  called 
a  conjurer,  and  his  art  the  black  art.  As 
he  kept  a  constant  succession  of  boys  to 
run  on  errands,  who  were  always  very 
black,  these  they  called  devils ;  some  of 
whom  being  raised  to  be  his  apprentices, 
he  was  said  to  have  raised  many  a  devil. 
As  to  the  inferior  order  among  us,  called 
flies,  employed  in  taking  newspapers  off 
the  press,  they  are  of  later  extraction, 
being  no  older  than  newspapers  them- 
selves. Mr.  Bailey  thinks,  their  original 
name  was  lies,  taken  from  the  papers  they 
so  took  off,  and  the  alteration  occasioned 
thus.  To  hasten  these  boys,  the  pressmen 
used  to  cry  flie,  lie,  which  naturally  fell 
into  one  single  word  lie.  This  conjecture 
is  confirmed  by  a  little  corruption  in  the 
true  title  of  the  f Lying  Post ;  since,  there- 
fore, we  are  both  comprehended  under 
the  title  of  devils,  let  us  discharge  our 
office  with  diligence ;  so  may  we  attain, 
as  many  of  our  predecessors  have  done, 
to  the  dignity  of  printers,  and  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  using  others  as  much  like 
poor  devils,  as  we  have  been  used  by 
them,  or  as  they  and  authors  are  used  by 
booksellers.  These  are  an  upstart  profes- 
sion, who  have  engrossed  the  business  of 
bookselling,  which  originally  belonged 
solely  to  our  masters.  But  let  them  re- 
member, that  if  we  worship  Belial  and 
Beelzebub,  the  God  of  flies,  all  the  world 
agrees,  that  their  God  is  mammon." 


The  preceding  is  from  the  "  Gentleman's 
Magazine"  for  October,  1732;  and  it  is 
mentioned,  that  "  at  the  head  of  the  article 
is  a  picture  emblematically  displaying  the 
art  and  mystery  of  printing;  in  which 
are  represented  a  compositor,  with  an  ass's 
head ;  two  pressmen,  one  with  the  head 
of  a  hog,  the  other  of  ahorse,  being  names 
which  they  fix  upon  one  another ;  a  flie 
taking  off  the  sheets,  and  a  devil  hanging 
them  up ;  a  messenger  with  a  grey hou  ' 


1241 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  16,  17,  18. 


1242 


face  kicking  out  tne  «  Craftsman ;"  a.figure 
with  two  faces,  for  the  master,  to  show  he 
prints  on  both  sides;  but  the  reader  is 
cautioned  against  applying  it  to  any  par- 
ticular person,  who  is,  or  ever  was  a 
printer ;  for  that  all  the  figures  were  in- 
tended to  represent  characters  and  not 
persons." 

It  is  a  proverbial  expression,  not  con- 
lined  to  our  country,  that  "  the  devil  is 
not  so  black  as  he  is  painted."  The  French, 
in  their  usual  forms  of  speech,  mention 
him  with  great  honour  and  respect.  Thus, 
when  they  would  commend  any  thing, 
they  break  out  into  this  pious  exclama- 
tion, "  Diable  \  que  cela  est  bon  \"  When 
they  would  represent  a  man  honest,  sin- 
cere, and  sociable,  they  call  him  "  un 
bon  Diable."  Some  of  our  own  country- 
men will  say,  a  thing  is  "  devilish  good ;" 
a  lady  is  "  devilish  pretty."  In  a  mixture 
of  surprise  and  approbation,  they  say, 
"the  devil's  in  this  fellow,  or  he  is  a 
comical  devil."  Others  speak  of  the  apos- 
tate angel  with  abhorrence,  and  nothing 
is  more  common  than  to  say,  "  such  a  one 
is  a  sad  devil."  I  remember  when  I  was 
at  St.  Germains,  a  story  of  a  gentleman, 
who  being  in  waiting  at  the  court  of  king 
James  II.,  and  the  discourse  running  upon 
demons  and  apparitions,  the  king  asked 
him  whether  ever  he  had  seen  any  thing 
of  that  sort.  "  Yes,"  replied  he,  "  last 
night."  His  majesty  asked  him  what  he 
had  seen.  He  answered,  "  the  devil." 
Being  asked  in  what  shape,—"  O  sir," 
said  he,  with  a  sigh,  "  in  his  usual  and 
natural  shape,  that  of  an  empty  bottle."  * 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR, 
Mean  Temperature  ...  59  .  32. 

September  16. 

FRAUDULENT  DEBTOR. 
On  the  16th  of  September,  1735,  Mr. 
Yardley  died  in  the  Fleet  prison,  where 
he  had  been  confined  nearly  ten  years  in 
execution  for  a  debt  of  a  hundred  pounds. 
He  was  possessed  of  nearly  seven  hundred 
a  year,  and  securities  and  other  effects  to 
the  value  of  five  thousand  pounds  were 
found  in  his  room.f 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  59  •  04. 


*  Gentleman's  Magazint. 
t  Ibid. 


17. 

LAMBERT 

There  is  an  account  of  this  saint  of  the 
church  of  England  calendar,  in  vol.  i. 
col.  1295.  , 


REMARKABLE  THIEF. 

On  the  17th  of  September,  1737,  the 
secret  was  discovered  of  some  mysterious 
robberies  committed  in  Gray's-inn,  while 
the  inhabitants  had  been  in  the  country. 

About  a  month  before,  there  died  at  a 
madhouse  near  Red  Lion-square,  one 
Mr.  Rudkins,  who  had  chambers  up  three 
pair  of  stairs,  at  No.  14,  in  Holborn- 
court,  GrayVinn.  His  sister-in  law  and 
executrix,  who  lived  in  Staffordshire,  wrote 
to  Mr.  Cotton,  a  broker,  to  take  care  of 
the  effects  in  her  behalf;  and  he  having 
read  a  Mr.  Warren's  advertisement  of  his 
chambers  having  been  robbed,  found  se- 
veral of  his  writings  there ;  several  things 
of  a  Mr.  Ellis,  who  had  been  robbed  about 
two  years  before  of  above  three  hundred 
pounds,  of  a  Mr.  Lawson's  of  the  Temple, 
and  of  captain  Haughton's,  whose  cham- 
bers were  broken  open  some  years  previ- 
ously, and  two  hundred  pounds'  reward 
offered  for  his  writings,  which  were  a  part 
found  here.  There  were  also  found  books 
to  one  hundred  pounds'  value,  belonging 
to  Mr.  Osborne  the  bookseller  in  Gray's- 
inn. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  when  Mr.  Rud- 
kins had  any  thing  in  view  in  this  way, 
he  would  padlock  up  his  own  door,  and 
take  horse  at  noonday,  giving  out  to  his 
laundress  that  he  was  going  into  the 
country.  His  chambers  consisted  of  five 
rooms,  two  of  which  not  even  his  laun- 
dress was  ever  admitted  into,  and  in  these 
was  found  the  booty,  with  all  his  working 
tools,  picklocks,  &c.  He  had  formerly 
been  a  tradesman  in  King-street,  near 
Guildhall.  It  is  further  remarkable  of 
this  private  house-breaker,  that  he  always 
went  to  Abingdon's  coffee-house,  in  Hoi- 
born,  on  an  execution-day,  to  see  from 
thence  the  poor  wretches  pass  by  to  their 
dismal  end ;  and  at  no  other  time  did  he 
frequent  that  coffee-house. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  95. 

18. 

GEORGE  I.  AND  II.  LANDED. 
The  "  coming  over  "  of  these  two  kings 
of  the  house  of  Brunswick,  is  marked  in 


1243 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  19,  20,  21 


1244 


the  almanacs  on  this  day,  which  is  kept 
as  a  holiday  at  all  the  public  offices,  ex- 
cept the  excise,  stamps,  and  customs. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  97, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  GOTTINGEN. 
In  September,  1737,  a  new  uni- 
versity founded  at  Gottingen,  by  his 
Britannic  majesty,  which  has  since  at- 
tained to  great  eminence,  was  "  opened 
with  a  very  solemn  inauguration.  In 
1788,  the  black  board,  on  the  walls  of  its 
council-house,  bore  three  edicts  for  the 
expulsion  of  three  students  named  West- 
field,  Planch,  and  Bauer.  These  papers 
were  drawn  up  in  Latin  by  the  celebrated 
professor  Heyne,  and  are  printed  in  the 
"  Gentleman's  Magazine"  for  June,  1789. 
King  George  IV.,  when  prince  regent  in 
1814,  sent  a  copy  of  every  important  work 
published  in  England  during  the  ten  pre- 
ceding years,  as  a  present  to  the  library 
of  the  university,  agreeable  to  a  promise 
ne  had  made  to  that  purport. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  57  .  87. 


HEALTH  —  Cholera  Morbus. 
This  is,  of  all  times  of  the  year,  the 
most  productive  -of  epidemical  disorders 
of  the  bowels,  which  are  erroneously 
ascribed  to  fruits,  but  which,  in  reality, 
the  autumnal  fruits  seem  best  calculated 
to  mollify.  If  the  diarrhea  be  very  violent, 
or  accompanied  with  incessant  vomiting, 
as  in  cholera  morbus,  the  best  practice  is, 
after  the  intestinal  canal  has  been  suffered 
copiously  to  evacuate  itself,  to  take  small 
doses  of  chalk,  or  of  some  other  substance 
known  to  check  the  disorder,  with  which 
chemists  are  always  prepared.  But  in 
ordinary  cases,  it  is  a  safer  plan  to  let  the 
disease  spend  itself,  as  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  irritation  of  the  intestines,  which 
the  flux  carries  off.  We  should  avoid 
eating  animal  food,  but  take  tea,  broths, 
gruel,  and  other  diluents,  and  the  disorder 
will  usually  soon  subside  of  itself.  After 
it  has  so  subsided  we  should  guard  against 
its  '  return,  by  taking  great  care  to  keep 
the  bowels  regular,  by  eating  light  and 
vegetable  food  and  fruits,  or  now  and  then 


taking  a  gentle  dose  of  aloes,  gr.  iiii.  The 
pills  which  commonly  go  by  the  name  of 
Hunt's  pills,  if  genuine,  are  very  good 
medicines  to  regulate  the  bowels.  When 
low  spirits  and  want  of  bile  indicate  the 
liver  to  partake  much  of  the  disease,  two 
grains  of  the  pil.  hydrarg.,  commonly 
called  blue  pill,  may  be  used  now  and 
then  with  advantage.* 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  58  •  45. 


September  21. 

THE  SEASON. 

Swallows  and  martins  are  still  very 
numerous,  the  general  migration  not 
having  begun.  They  roost  in  immense 
numbers  on  buildings,  round  about  which 
martins  fly  some  times  in  such  quantities 
as  almost  to  darken  the  air  with  their 
plumes.  Sparrows,  linnets,  various  finches, 
and  also  plovers,  are  now  seen  about  in 
flocks,  according  to  an  annual  habit,  pre- 
valent among  many  kinds  of  birds,  of 
assembling  together  in  autumn.f 


The  accompanying1  stanzas  applicable  to 
the  season,  are  extracted  from  an  original 
poem,  entitled  "  The  Libertine  of  the 
Emerald  Isle,"  which  will,  probably,  be 
published  early  in  the  next  year 

AUTUMN. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  leaves  are  falling,  and  the  hollow  breeze 
At  ev'ning  tide  sweeps  mournfully  along, 

Making  sad  music,  such  as  minor  keys 
Develope  in  a  melancholy  song  : 

The  meadows,  too.  are  losing  by  degrees 
Their  green  habiliments  —  and  now  among 

The  various  works  of  nature  there  appears 

A  gen'ral  gloom,  prophetic  of  the  year's 

Approaching  dissolution : — but  to  me 

These    sombre    traits    are    pregnant  witk 
delight, 

And  yield  my  soul  more  true  felicity 

Than  words  can  justly  picture  : — they  invite 

My  mind  to  contemplation — they  agree 
With  my  heart's  bias,  and  at  once  excite 

Those  feelings,  both  of  love  and  admiration, 

Which  make  this  world  a  glorious  1«\  elation ' 


*  Dr.  Forster's  Perennial  Calenda.. 
t  Ibid. 


1245 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  22. 


Hence  —  not  unfrequently  when  all  is  still, 
And  Cynthia  walks  serenely  through  the 

skr> 

Silv  'ring  the  groves  and  ev'ry  neighb'ring  hill, 
I  sit  and  ponder  on  the  years  gone  by: 

This  is  the  time  when  reason  has  her  fill 
Of  this  world's  good  and  evil,  when  the  eye 

Of  contemplation  takes  a  boundless  range 

Of  spheres*  that  never  vacillate  or  change  ! 

Sweet  Autumn  !  thou'rt  surrounded  with  the 
charms 

Of  reason,  and  philosophy,  and  truth, 
And  ev'ry  "  sound  reflection  "  that  disarms 

This  life  of  half  its  terrors  :  —  in  our  youth 
We  fee!  no  sense  of  danger,  and  the  qualms 

Of  conscience  seldom  trouble  us  forsooth, 
Because  the  splendour  of  its  reign  destroys 
Whatever  checks  our  sublunary  joys? 

But  thou  art  far  too  rigid  and  severe 
To  let  these  errors  triumph  for  a  day, 

Or  suffer  folly,  in  her  mad  career, 

To  sweep  our  reas'ning  faculties  away  ! 

Thou  pointest  out  the  fun'ral  of  the  year, 
The  summer's  wreck  and  palpable  decay, 

Stamping  a  "  moral  lesson  "  on  the  mind, 

To  awe,  restrain,  and  meliorate  mankind  ! 

But  men  are  callous  to  thy  warning  voice, 
And  pass  thee  by,  regardless  of  thy  worth, 

Making  a  false  and  perishable  choice 

Of  all  the  fleeting  pleasures  of  the  earth  : 

They  love  gross  riot,  turbulence,  and  noise, 
The  Bacchanalian's  ebriating  mirth, 

And  when  the  autumn  of  their  lives  creeps  on, 

Their  wit  has  vanish'd,  and  their  strength  is 
gone! 

But  had  they  been  observant  of  thy  pow'rs, 

And  ponder'd  o'er  thy  ruin  and  decay, 
They  might  have  well  applied  them  to  those 

hours 

Which  nothing,  for  an  instant,  can  delay  ; 
But  whilst  health,  strength,  and  competence 

are  our's, 

And  youth  is  basking  in  the  summer's  ray, 
Life's  autumn  scenes  reluctantly  are  view'd, 
And  folly's  visions  joyously  pursued  I 

B.  W.  B, 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  58  .  02. 


22. 

ST.  MAURICE. 

This  saint,  to  whom  and  his  compa- 
nions a  festival  is  celebrated  by  the  Ro- 
mish church  on  this  day,  received  a  simi- 
lar honour  in  England.  They  are  said  to 
have  been  officers  in  the  Theban  legion, 
which  refused  to  sacrifice  to  the  gods  on 
their  march  into  Gaul,  and  were,  there- 


1246 

fore,  ordered  to  be  decimated  by  Maximian. 
Every  tenth  man  was  accordingly  put  to 
death,  and  on  their  continued  resistance, 
a  second  decimation  ordered,  and  Maurice 
and  his  companions  encouraged  them,  and 
the  whole  legion  consisting  of  six  thousand 
six  hundred  men,  well  armed,  being  no 
way  intimidated  to  idolatry  by  cruelty, 
were  slaughtered  by  the  rest  of  the  army, 
and  relics  of  their  bodies  were  gathered 
and  preserved,  and  worked  miracles.* 


BATTLE  OF  THREEKINGHAM. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  village  of  Threekingham,  in  the 
county  of  Lincoln,  was  known  by  the 
name  of  Laundon,  previous  to  this  day, 
A.  D.  870,  when  a  battle  was  fought  be- 
tween the  English  and  Danes,  of  which 
Ingulphus,  a  monk  of  Crowland  abbey, 
has  left  the  following  account. 

The  Danes  entered  England  in  the 
year  879,  and  wintered  at  York ;  and  in 
the  year  880  proceeded  to  the  parts  of 
Lindsey,  in  Lincolnshire,  where  they  com- 
menced their  destructive  depredations  by 
laying  waste  the  abbey  of  Bardney.  In 
the  month  of  September  in  the  latter  year, 
earl  Algar,  with  two  of  his  seneschals, 
(Wibert,  owner  of  Wiberton,  and  Leofric, 
owner  of  Leverton,)  attended  by  the  men 
of  Holland  (Lincolnshire),  Toly,  a  monk 
(formerly  a  soldier),  with  two  hundred 
men  belonging  to  Crowland  abbey,  and 
three  hundred  from  Deeping,  Langtoft, 
and  Boston,  Morcar,  lord  of  Bourn, 
with  his  powerful  family,  and  Osgot^ 
sheriff  of  Lincolnshire,  with  the  forces  of 
the  county,  being  five  hundred  more, 
mustered  in  Kesteven,  on  the  day  of  St. 
Maurice,  and  fought  with  the  Danes,  over 
whom  they  obtained  considerable  advan- 
tage, killing  three  of  their  kings  and  many 
of  their  private  soldiers,  and  pursued  the 
rest  to  their  very  camp,  until  night  ob- 
liged them  to  separate.  In  the  same 
night  several  princes  and  earls  of  the 
Danes,  with  their  followers,  who  had 
been  out  in  search  of  plunder,  came  to 
the  assistance  of  their  countrymen  ;  by 
the  report  of  which  many  of  the  English 
were  so  dismayed  that  they  took  to  flight. 
Those,  however,  who  had  resolution  to 
face  the  enemy  in  the  morning,  went  to 
prayers,  and  were  marshalled  for  battle, 

•  Butler 


1247 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  23. 


Among  the  latter  was  Toly  with  his  five 
hundred  men  in  the  right  wing,  with 
ivlorcar  and  his  followers  to  support  them; 
and  Osgot  the  sheriff,  with  his  five  hun- 
dred men,  and  with  the  stout  knight, 
Harding  de  Riehall,  and  the  men  of 
Stamford.  The  Danes,  after  having  bu- 
ried the  three  kings  whom  they  had  lost 
the  day  before,  at  a  place  there  called 
Laundon,  but  since,  from  that  circum- 
stance, called  Three-king-ham,  marched 
out  into  the  field.  The  battle  began,  and 
the  English,  though  much  inferior  in  num- 
bers, kept  their  ground  the  greater  part  of 
the  day  with  steadiness  and  resolution, 
until  the  Danes  feigning  a  flight,  were 
rashly  pursued  without  attention  to  order. 
The  Danes  then  took  advantage  of  the 
confusion  of  the  English,  returned  to  the 
charge,  and  made  their  opponents  pay 
dearly  for  their  temerity ;  in  fine,  the 
Danes  were  completely  victorious.  In 
this  battle,  earl  Algar,  the  monk  Toly, 
arid  many  other  valiant  men,  were  slain 
on  the  part  of  the  English ;  after  which 
the  Danes  proceeded  to  the  destruction 
of  the  abbeys  of  Crowland,  Thorney, 
Ramsey  and  Hamstede  (Peterborough) 
and  many  other  places  in  the  neighbour- 
hood.— Thus  far  is  from  Ingulphus  the 
monk. 

A  fair,  said  to  have  arisen  from  the 
above  circumstance,  is  annually  held  at 
Three-king-ham,  on  a  remarkable  piece  of 
ground,  called  Stow  Green  Hill,  reported 
to  be  the  spot  whereon  the  battle  was 
principally  contested,  and  Domesday- 
book  in  some  degree  corroborates  the 
statement ;  for  in  the  Conqueror's  time, 
A.  D.  1080,  when  that  survey  was  taken, 
we  find  that  there  was  then  a  fair  held 
here,  which  yielded  forty  shillings,  ac- 
coanted  for  to  Gilbert  de  Gand,  lord  of 
Foldingham.  This  fair,  however,  is  not 
held  now  in  the  month  of  September,  but 
commences  on  the  15th  of  June,  and  con- 
tinues till  the  fourth  of  July,  and  was 
very  probably  changed  in  the  fifty-second 
year  of  the  reign  of  king  Henry  III.,  who 
according  to  Tanner's  "Notitia  Monas- 
tica,'*  granted  a  charter  for  a  fair  at  this 
place  to  the  monastery  of  Sempririgham. 


September  8,  1826 


SLEAFORDENSIS. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  57  •  70. 


September  23. 

OPENING  OF  THE  WINTER  THEATRES. 
For  the  Every- Day  Book. 

To  cultivate  pleasant  associations,  may 
well  be  deemed  a  part  and  parcel  of  the 
philosophy  of  life.  Now  that  spring,  that 
sweet  season  redolent  of  flowers  and  buds 
hath  passed  away,  and  summer  mellow- 
ing into  autumn,  has  well  nigh  fallen  into 
the  "  sere  the  yellow  leaf,"  we  in  "  popu- 
lous city  pent,"  gladly  revert  lo  those  so- 
cial enjoyments  peculiar  to  a  great  me- 
tropolis, and  among  which  stand  con- 
spicuous, the  amusements  of  the  acted 
drama. 

The  opening  of  the  winter  theatres  may 
be  reckoned  as  one  of  the  principal  fasti 
of  cockney  land,  an  epoch  which  distinctly 
marks  the  commencement  of  a  winter  in 
London.  How  changed  from  the  auspi- 
cious season,  when  the  bright  sun  glancing 
into  our  gloomy  retreats,  tantalizes  us 
with  visions  of  the  breathing  sweets  of 
nature,  and  when  we  in  our  very  dreams 
"  babbled  of  green  fields," — to  the  period 
when  even  the  thronged  and  dirty  streets 
are  endurable,  as  we  wend  our  way  per- 
chance through  a  fog,  (a  London  parti- 
cular,) towards  the  crowded  and  gaily 
lighted  theatre,  by  contrast  made  more 
brilliant. 

"  My  first  play"  forms  an  era  to  most 
young  persons,  and  is  generally  cherished 
among  our  more  agreeable  juvenile  remi- 
niscences :  but  the  subject  has  been  re- 
cently expatiated  upon  so  delightfully 
and  in  so  genial  a  spirit  by  ELIA,  as  al- 
most to  make  further  comment  "a  wasteful 
and  ridiculous  excess."  I  well  remember 
the  vast  and  splendid  area  of  old  Drury- 
lane  theatre,  where  the  mysterious  green 
curtain  portico,  to  that  curious  microcosm 
the  stage,  first  met  my  youthful  gaze.  The 
performances  were,  the  "  Stranger"  and 
Blue  Beard,"  both  then  in  the  very  bloom 
of  their  popularity :  and  whatever  differ- 
ence of  opinion  may  exist  as  to  the  moral 
tendency  of  the  first,  all  must  allow  that 
never  piece  was  more  effective  in  the  re- 
presentation, when  aided  by  the  unrivalled 
talents  of  Kemble,  and  Mrs.  Siddons,  af 
that  time  in  the  zenith  of  their  powers.  ] 
confess,  that  to<ny  unsophisticated  boyislj 
feelings,  subdued  by  the  cunning  of  the 
scene,  it  seemed  quite  natural,  that  the 
sufferings  of  bitter  remorse  and  repent, 
ance  should  suffice  to  ensure  the  pity  and 
forgiveness  of  outraged  society. — Happy 
age,  when  the  generous  impulses  of  our 


1349 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  28. 


1250 


nature  are  not  yet  blunted  by  the  stern 
experience  of  after  life ! 

This  brings  me  to  record  a  remarkable 
and  disastrous  event  in  theatrical  annals, 
and  one  which  in  a  great  measure  sug- 
gested the  present  communication.  It 
was  my  fortune  to  be  present  at  the  last 
performances  ever  given  on  the  boards  of 
Old  Drury — and  which  took  place  on 
Thursday  evening  the  23rd  of  February, 
1809 — when  was  acted  for  the  first,  and 
as  it  proved,  the  last  time,  a  new  opera 
composed  by  Bishop,  called  the  "  Circas- 
sian Bride."  The  next  night  this  magni- 
ficent theatre  was  a  pile  of  burning  ruins. 
The  awful  grandeur  of  the  conflagration 
defies  description,  but  to  enlarge  upon 
a  circumstance  so  comparatively  recent 
would  be  purely  gratuitous ;  it  was,  how- 
ever, an  event  which  might  be  truly  said, 
"to  eclipse  the  harmless  gaiety  of  na- 
tions,"— for  the  metropolis  then  presented 
the  unprecedented  spectacle  of  the  na- 
tional drama  without  a  home, — the  two 
sister  theatres  both  prostrate  in  the  dust ! 

Annexed  is  a  copy  of  the  play-bill, 
which  at  this  distance  of  time,  may  per- 
haps be  valued  as  an  interesting  relic, 
illustrative  of  dramatic  history.  J.  H. 


NEVER  ACTED. 
Theatre  Royal,  Drury-lane. 

This  present  THURSDAY,  FEBRUARY  23, 

1809. 

Their  Majesties  Servants  will  perform  a 
New  Opera,  in  Three  Acts,  called  the 

CIRCASSIAN  BRIDE. 

With  New  Scenery,  Dresses,  and  Decor- 
ations. 

The  OVERTURE  and  Music  entirely  new, 
composed  by  Mr.  BISHOP, 

CIRCASSIANS. 

Alexis,  Mr.  BRAHAM, 

Rhindax,  Mr.  DE  CAMP, 

Demetrio,   Mr.  MARSHALL, 

Basil,  Mr.  RAY, 

Officers,  Mr.  GIBBON,  Mr.  MILLER, 

Chief  Priest,  Mr.  MADDOCKS, 

Erminia,  Miss  LYON. 

ENGLISH. 
Ben  Blunt,  Mr.  BANNISTER, 

Tom  Taffrel,  Mr.  SMITH, 
Rachael,    Mrs.    MOUNTAIN. 

TARTARS, 
Usberg,  (the  Khan,)  Mr.  J.  SMITH, 

Barak,  Mr.  MATHEWS, 
VOL.  II.— 92. 


Kerim,  Mr.  FISHER,  Hassan,  Mr.  COOKE, 
Slaves,  Messrs.  WEBB,  EVANS, 

CHATTERLEY, 
Anna,  Mrs.  BLAND. 

The  DANCE  by 

Mesds.   GREEN,  TWAMLEY,  DAVIS,   H. 
and  F.  DENNET. 

Chorus  of  Circassians,  Tartars,  fyc. 
By  Messrs.  Danby,  Cook,  Evans,  Caul- 

field,  Bond,  Dibble,  Jones, 
Mesds.    Stokes,    Chatterley,    Menage, 

Maddocks,  Wells,  Butler. 
The  New  Scenes  designed  by 

Mr.  GREENWOOD, 
And  executed  by  him,  Mr.  BANKS,  and 

Assistants. 
The  Dresses  and  Decorations,  by 

Mr.  JOHNSTON, 
and  executed    by  him,  Mr.  BANKS  and 

Mr.  UNDERWOOD. 

The   Female   Dresses  designed   and  ex- 
ecuted by  Miss  REIN. 
Books  of  the  Songs  to  be  had  in  the 
Theatre. 

To  which  will  be  added  the  Farce  of 

FORTUNE'S  FROLIC. 

Robin  Roughhead,  Mr.  MATHEWS, 

Rattle,  Mr.  PALMER,  Nancy  Miss  LACY 

Margery,  Mrs. '  SPARKS, 

Dolly,  Mrs.  HARLOWE. 

Places  for  the  Boxes  to  be  taken  of  Mr. 

SPRING,  at  the  Box-Office,  Russel-street. 

No  money  to  be  returned. 

Vivant  Rex  et  Regina  I  (Lowndes  and  Hobhi, 

Printers,  Marquis-court,  Drury-lane.) 


"  ELI  A.'* — Why  should  J.  H.  pop  on 
me  with  his  mention  of  ELIA,  just  as  I 
was  about  to  write  "  an  article  ?"  Write  ! 
— it's  impossible.  I  have  turned  to  "  My 
First  Play  " — I  cannot  get  it  out  my 
head:  the  reader  must  take  the  consequence 
of  my  inability,  and  of  the  fault  of  J.  H., 
and  read  what  I  shall  never  approach  to, 
in  writing,  were  I  to  "  grind  my  quill 
these  hundred  years" 

MY  FIRST  PLAY 
BY  ELIA. 

At  the  north  end  of  Cross-court  there 
yet  stands  a  portal,  of  some  architectural 
pretensions,  though  reduced  to  humble 
use,  serving  at  present  for  an  entrance 
to  a  printing-office.  This  old  dooi-^ay 
if  you  are  young,  reader,  you  may  not 
know  was  the  identical  pit  entrance  to 
Old  Drury— Garrick's  Drury— all  of  it 


1251 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  23. 


1252 


that  is  left.  I  never  pass  it  without  shak- 
ing some  forty  years  from  off  my  shoul- 
ders, recurring  to  the  evening  when  I 
gassed  through  it  te  see  my  first  play. 
The  afternoon  had  been  wet,  and  the  con- 
dition of  our  going  (the  elder  folks  and 
myself)  was,  that  the  rain  should  cease. 
With  what  a  beating  heart  did  I  watch 
from  the  window  the  puddles,  from  the 
stillness  of  which  I  was  taught  to  prog- 
nosticate the  desired  cessation  !  1  seem 
to  remember  the  last  spurt,  and  the  glee 
with  which  I  ran  to  announce  it. 

We  went  with  orders,  which  my  god- 
father F.  had  sent  us.  He  kept  the  oil 
shop  (now  Davies's)  at  the  corner  of  Fea- 
therstone-building,  in  Holborn.  F.  was 
a  tall  grave  person,  lofty  in  speech,  and 
had  pretensions  above  his  rank.  He  as- 
sociated in  those  days  with  John  Palmer, 
the  comedian,  whose  gait  and  bearing  he 
seemed  to  copy;  if  John  (which  is  quite 
as  likely)  did  not  rather  borrow  somewhat 
of  his  manner  from  my  godfather.  He 
was  also  known  to,  and  visited  by,  She- 
ridan. It  was  to  his  house  in  Hoiborn, 
that  young  Brinsley  brought  his  first  wife 
on  her  elopement  with  him  from  a  board- 
ing school  at  Bath — the  beautiful  Maria 
Linley.  My  parents  were  present  (over  a 
quadrille  table)  when  he  arrived  in  the 
evening  with  his  harmonious  charge. — 
From  either  of  these  connections,  it  may 
be  inferred  that  my  godfather  could  com- 
mand an  order  for  the  then  Drury-lane 
theatre  at  pleasure — and,  indeed,  a  pretty 
liberal  issue  of  those  cheap  billets,  in 
Brinsley's  easy  autograph,  I  have  heard 
him  say  was  the  sole  remuneration  which 
he  had  received  for  many  years'  nightly 
illumination  of  the  orchestra,  and  various 
avenues  of  that  theatre — and  he  was  con- 
tent that  it  should  be  so.  The  honour  of 
Sheridan's  familiarity — or  supposed  fami- 
liarity— was  better  to  my  godfather  than 
money. 

F.  was  the  most  gentlemanly  of  oilmen; 
grandiloquent,  yet  courteous.  His  de- 
livery of  the  commonest  matters  of  fact 
was  Ciceronian.  He  had  two  Latin  words 
almost  constantly  in  his  mouth,  (how  odd 
sounds  Latin  from  an  oilman's  lips !) 
•which  my  better  knowledge  since,  has 
enabled  me  to  correct.  In  strict  pronun- 
ciation they  should  have  been  sounded 
vice  versd — but  in  those  young  years  they 
impressed  me  with  more  awe  than  they 
would  now  do,  read  aright  from  Seneca 
or  Varro— -an  his  own  peculiar  pronun- 
ciation, monosyllabically  elaborated,  or 


anglicized,  into  something  like  verse  verse. 
By  an  imposing  manner,  and  the  help  of 
these  distorted  syllables,  he  climbed  (but 
that  was  little)  to  the  highest  parochial 
honours  which  St.  Andrew's  has  to  bestow. 
He  is  dead,  and  thus  much  I  thought 
due  to  his  memory,  both  for  my  first  or- 
ders (little  wondrous  talismans  ! — slight 
keys,  and  insignificant  to  outward  sight, 
but  opening  to  me  more  than  Arabian 
paradises  !)  and  moreover,  that  by  his 
testamentary  beneficence  I  came  into  pos- 
session of  the  only  landed  property  which 
I  could  ever  call  my  own — situate  near 
the  road-way  village  of  pleasant  Puck- 
eridge,  in  Hertfordshire.  When  I  jour- 
nied  down  to  take  possession,  and 
planted  foot  on  my  own  ground,  the 
stately  habits  of  the  donor  descended 
upon  me,  and  I  strode  (shall  I  confess 
the  vanity  ?)  with  larger  paces  over  my 
allotment  of  three  quarters  of  an  acre, 
with  its  commodious  mansion  in  the  midst 
with  the  feeling  of  an  English  freeholder, 
that  all  betwixt  sky  and  centre  was  my 
own.  The  estate  has  passed  into  more 
prudent  hands,  and  nothing  but  an  agra- 
rian can  restore  it. 

In  those  days  were  pit  orders.  Beshrew 
the  uncomfortable  manager  who  abolished 
them  ! — with  one  of  these  we  went.  I 
remember  the  waiting  at  the  door — hot 
that  which  is  left — but  between  that  and 
an  inner  door  in  shelter — O  when  shall  I 
be  such  an  expectant  again ; — with  the 
cry  of  nonpareils,  an  indispensable  play- 
house accompaniment  in  those  days.  As 
near  as  I  can  recollect,  the  fashionable 
pronunciation  of  the  theatrical  fruiteresses 
then  was,  "  Chase  some  oranges,  chase 
some  numparels,  chase  a  bill  of  the  play  ;" 
— chase  pro  chuse.  But  when  we  got  in, 
and  I  beheld  the  green  curtain  that  veiled 
a  heaven  to  my  imagination,  which  was 
soon  to  be  disclosed — the  breathless  anti- 
cipations I  endured  !  I  had  seen  some- 
thing like  it  in  the  plate  prefixed  to  "  Troilus 
and  Cressida,"  in  Rowe's  "Shakspeare" — 
the  ten$  scene  with  Diomede — and  a  sight 
of  that  plate  can  always  bring  back  in  a 
measure  the  feeling  of  that  evening. — 
The  boxes  at  that  time,  full  of  well-dressed 
women  of  quality,  projected  over  the  pit 
and  the  pilasters  reaching  down  were 
adorned  with  a  glistering  substance  ( 
know  not  what)  under  glass  (as  it  seemed 
resembling — a  homely  fancy  —  but  I 
judged  it  to  be  sugar-candy — yet,  to  my 
raised  imagination,  divested  of  its  home- 
lier qualities,  it  appeared  a  glorified  candy ! 


1253 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  23. 


1254 


— The  orchestra  lights  at  length  arose, 
those  "  fair  Auroras !"  Once  the  bell 
sounded.  It  was  to  ring  out  yet  once 
again — and,  incapable  of  the  anticipation, 

reposed  my  shut  eyes  in  a  sort  of  re- 
signation upon  the  maternal  lap.  It  rang 
the  second  time.  The  curtain  drew  up — 
I  was  not  past  six  years  old — and  the 
play  was  Artaxerxes ! 

I  had  dabbled  a  little  in  the  Universal 
History — the  ancient  part  of  it — and  here 
was  the  court  of  Persia.  It  was  being 
admitted  to  a  sight  of  the  past.  I  took 
no  proper  interest  in  the  action  going  on, 
for  I  understood  not  its  import — but  I 
heard  the  word  Darius,  and  I  was  in  the 
midst  of  Daniel.  All  feeling  was  absorbed 
in  vision.  Gorgeous  vests,  gardens,  pa- 
laces, princesses,  passed  before  me.  I 
knew  not  players.  I  was  in  PersepoUs 
for  the  time;  and  the  burning  idol  of 
their  devotion  almost  converted  me  into 
a  worshipper.  I  was  awe-struck,  and 
believed  those  significations  to  be  some- 
thing more  than  elemental  fires.  It  was 
all  enchantment  and  a  dream.  No  such 
pleasure  has  since  visited  me  but  in 
dreams. — Harlequin's  Invasion  followed  ; . 
where,  I  remember,  the  transformation  of 
the  magistrates  into  reverend  beldams 
seemed  to  me  a  piece  of  grave  historic 
justice,  and  the  tailor  carrying1  his  own 
head  to  be  as  sober  a  verity  as  the  legend 
of  St.  Denys. 

The  next  play  to  which  I  was  taken 
was  the  "  Lady  of  the  Manor,"  of  which, 
with  the  exception  of  some  scenery,  very 
faint  traces  are  left  in  my  memory.  It 
was  followed  by  a  pantomime,  called 
"  Lun's  Ghost" — a  satiric  touch,  I  appre- 
hend, upon  Rich,  not  long  since  dead — 
but  to  my  apprehension  (too  sincere  for 
satire)  "  Lun"  was  as  remote  a  piece  of 
antiquity  as  "  Lud" — the  father  of  a  line 
of  Harlequins — transmitting  his  dagger 
of  lath  (the  wooden  sceptre)  through 
countless  ages.  I  saw  the  primeval  Mot- 
ley come  from  his  silent  tomb  in  a  ghastly 
vest  of  white  patch-work,  like  the  appa- 
rition of  a  dead  rainbow.  So  harlequins 
(thought  I)  look  when  they  are  dead. 

My  third  play  followed  in  quick  suc- 
cession. It  was  the  "  Way  of  the  World." 
I  think  I  must  have  sat  at  it  as  grave  as  a 
judge  ;  for,  I  remember,  the  hysteric  af- 
fectations of  good  lady  Wishfort  affected 
me  like  some  solemn  tragic  passion. 
'*  Robinson  Crusoe"  followed ;  in  which 
Crusoe,  man  Friday,  and  the  parrot,  were 
as  good  and  authentic  as  in  the  story. — 


The  clownery  and  pantaloonery  of  these 
pantomimes  have  clean  passed  out  of  my 
head.  I  believe,  I  no  more  laughed  at 
them,  than  at  the  same  age  I  should  have 
been  disposed  to  laugh  at  the  grotesque 
Gothic  heads  (seeming  to  me  then  replete 
with  devout  meaning)  that  gape,  and  grin, 
in  stone  around  the  inside  of  the  old 
round  church  (my  church)  of  the  Tem- 
plars. 

I  saw  these  plays  in  the  season  1781-2, 
when  I  was  from  six  to  seven  years  old. 
After  the  intervention  of  six  or  seven 
other  years  (for  at  school  all  play-going 
was  inhibited)  I  again  entered  the  doors 
of  a  theatre.  That  old  Artaxerxes  even- 
ing had  never  done  ringing  in  my  fancy. 
I  expected  the  same  feelings  to  come  again 
with  the  same  occasion.  But  we  differ 
from  ourselves  less  at  sixty  and  sixteen, 
than  the  latter  does  from  six.  In  that  in- 
terval what  had  I  not  lost !  At  the  first 
period  I  knew  nothing,  understood  no- 
thing, discriminated  nothing.  I  felt  all, 
loved  all,  wondered  all — 

Was  nourished,  I  could  not  tell  how. — 

I  had  left  the  temple  a  devotee,  and  was 
returned  a  rationalist.  The  same  things 
were  there  materially ;  but  the  emblem, 
the  reference,  was  gone  ! — The  green  cur- 
tain was  no  longer  a  veil,  drawn  between 
two  worlds,  the  unfolding  of  which  was  to 
bring  back  past  ages,  to  present  "  a  royal 
ghost," — but  a  certain  quantity  of  green 
baize,  which  was  to  separate  the  audience 
for  a  given  time  from  certain  of  their  fel- 
low-men who  were  to  come  forward  and 
pretend  those  parts.  The  lights — the  or- 
chestra lights — came  up  a  clumsy  ma- 
chinery. The  first  ring,  and  the  second 
ring,  was  now  but  a  trick  of  the  prompter's 
bell — which  had  been,  like  the  note  of  the 
cuckoo,  a  phantom  of  a  voice,  no  hand 
seen  or  guessed  at  which  ministered  to 
its  warning.  The  actors  were  men  and 
women  painted.  I  thought  the  fault  was 
in  them  ;  but  it  was  in  myself,  and  the 
alteration  which  those  many  centuries — of 
six  short  twelvemonths — had  wrought  in 
me.  Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  for  me  that 
the  play  of  the  evening  was  but  an  indif- 
ferent comedy,  as  it  gave  me  time  to  crop 
some  unreasonable  expectations,  which 
might  have  interfered  with  the  genuine 
emotions  with  which  I  was  soon  after  en- 
abled to  enter  upon  the  first  appearance 
to  me  of  Mrs.  Siddons  in  "  Isabella." 
Comparison  and  retrospection  soon  yielded 
to  the  present  attraction  of  the  scene ;  am2 


1255 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  24. 


1  2  6d 


the  theatre  became  to  me,  upon  a  new 
stock,  the  most  delightful  of  recreations. 

After  this  robbery  of  "  ELIA,"  my  con- 
science forces  me  to  declare  that  I  wish 
every  reader  would  save  me  from  the 
shame  of  further  temptation  to  transgress, 
by  ordering  "  ELIA"  into  his  collection. 
There  is  no  volume  in  our  language  so  full 
of  beauty,  truth,  and  feeling,  as  the  volume 
of  "  ELIA."  I  am  convinced  that  every 
person  who  has  not  seen  it,  and  may  take 
the  hint,  will  thank  me  for  acquainting 
him  with  a  work  which  he  cannot  look 
nto  without  pleasure,  nor  lay  down  with- 
out regret.  It  is  a  delicious  book. 


SHERBORNE  BELLS. 

On  this  day  it  is  a  custom  to  exercise 
the  largest  bell  of  one  of  our  country 
churches,  in  the  manner  described  in  the 
following  communication. 

TOLLING  DAY. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  23d  of  September  has  obtained  in 
Sherborne,  Dorset,  the  name  of  "  tolling- 
day,"  in  commemoration  of  the  death  of 
John  Lord  Digby,  baron  Digby  of  Sher- 
borne, and  earl  of  Bristol,  in  the  year 
MDCXCYIII.  and  in  conformity  with  the 
following  wish  expressed  in  a  codicil  an- 
nexed to  his  lordship's  will. 

"  Item,  I  give  and  bequeath  out  of  my 
said  estate  to  the  parish  church,  the  yearly 
sum  of  ten  pounds,  to  be  paid  by  my  suc- 
cessors, lords  of  the  said  manor  for  the 
time  being,  at  and  upon,  or  within  forty 
days  after,  the  feast  days  of  St.  Michael 
the  archangel,  and  of  the  annunciation  of 
our  blessed  lady  St.  Mary  the  virgin,  by 
equ  al  portions  yearly  and  for  ever,  and  to 
be  employed  and  bestowed  by  the  church- 
wardens of  the  said  parish  for  the  time 
being,  with  the  consent  of  the  lord  of 
the  said  manor  for  the  time  being,  in 
keeping  in  good  repair  the  chancel, 
and  towards  the  reparations  of  the 
-est  of  the  said  church,  yearly  and  for 
ever;  provided  that  my  successors,  the 
lord  or  lords  of  the  said  manor  for  the 
time  being,  shall  have  and  enjoy  a  con- 
venient pew,  or  seat,  in  the  said  chancel 
for  himself  and  family  for  ever ;  and  pro- 
vided that  the  said  churchwardens  for  the 
time  being,  shall  cause  the  largest  bell  in 
the  tower  of  the  said  church,  to  be  tolled 
six  full  hours,  that  is  to  say,  from  five  to 
nme  of  the  clock  in  the  forenoon,  and 


from  twelve  o'clock  till  two  in  the  after- 
noon, on  that  day  of  the  said  month 
whereon  it  shall  be  my  lot  to  depart  this 
life,  every  year  and  for  ever ;  otherwise 
this  gift  of  ten  pounds  per  annum  shall 
determine  and  be  void.'' 

This  custom  is  annually  observed,  but  not 
to  the  extent  above  intended,  the  tolling  of 
the  bell  being  limited  to  two  hours  instead 
of  six.  It  begins  to  toll  at  six  o'clock  and 
continues  till  seven  in  the  morning,  when 
six  men,  who  toll  the  bell  for  church  ser- 
vice, repair  to  the  mansion  of  the  present 
earl  Digby,  with  two  large  stonejars,  which 
are  there  filled  with  some  of  his  lordship's 
strong  beer,  and,  with  a  quantity  of  bread 
and  cheese,  taken  to  the  church  by  the 
tollers  and  equally  divided  amongst  them, 
together  with  a  small  remuneration  in 
money  paid  by  the  churchwardens  as  a 
compensation  for  their  labour.  At  twelve 
o'clock  the  bell  is  again  tolled  till  one, 
and  in  the  evening  divine  service  is  per- 
formed at  the  church,  and  a  lecture  suited 
to  the  occasion  delivered  from  the  pulpit ; 
for  which  lecture  or  sermon  the  vicar  is 
paid  thirty  pounds,  provided  by  the  will 
of  the  above  donor. 

R.  T. 

Bow  BELLS. 

Who  has  not  heard  of  "  Bow  Bells  ?" 
Who  that  has  heard  them  does  not  feel  an 
interest  in  their  sounds,  or  in  the  recol~ 
lection  of  them  ?  The  editor  is  prepar- 
ing an  article  on  "  Bow  Bells,"  and  for 
that  purpose  particularly  desires  com- 
munications. Accounts  relative  to  their 
present  or  former  state,  or  any  facts  or 
anecdotes  respecting  them  at  any  time, 
are  earnestly  solicited  from  every  reader 
as  soon  as  possible. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     56  •  02. 

September  24. 

A  GOOD  TENANT. 

In  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  for 
September,  1775,  Mr.  Clayton,  a  wealthy 
farmer  of  Berkshire,  is  related  to  have 
died  at  the  extraordinary  age  of  a  hun- 
dred and  fifteen  years,  and  retained  his 
faculties  to  the  last ;  he  is  further  remark- 
able, for  having  rented  one  farm  ninety 
years.  An  occupancy  of  so  great  dura- 
tion, by  one  individual,  is  perhaps  ur- 
equalled  in  the  history  of  landlord  and 
tenant. 


1257 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  25. 


1256 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  £5  •  40. 

September  25. 

SEA  SIDE  SPORTS. 

There  is  an  exhilarating  effect  in  the 
sea-air  and  coast  scenery,  which  inland 
views  or  atmosphere,  however  fine,  fail 
to  communicate. 

On  the  25th  of  September,  1825,  a 
gentleman  and  lady  came  out  of  one  of 
the  hotels  near  the  Steyne,  and  after 
taking  a  fair  start,  set  off  running  round 
the  Steyne.  They  both  ran  very  swiftly, 
but  the  young  lady  bounded  forward  with 
the  agility  of  the  chamois  and  the  fleet, 
ness  of  the  deer,  and  returned  to  the  spot 
from  whence  they  started  a  considerable 
distance  before  the  gentleman.  She  ap- 
peared much  pleased  with  her  victory. 
There  were  but  few  persons  on  the 
Steyne  at  the  time,  but  those  who  were 
there,  expressed  their  admiration  at  the 
swiftness  of  this  second  Atalanta.* 


BRIGHTON. 

In  Mr.  Hazlitt's  "  Notes  of  a  Journey 
through  France  and  Italy,"  he  mentions 
the  place  from  whence  he  sailed  for  the 
continent : — 

"  Brighton  stands  facing  the  sea,  on 
the  bare  cliffs,  with  glazed  windows  to 
reflect  the  glaring  sun,  and  black  pitchy 
bricks  shining  like  the  scales  of  fishes. 
The  town  is  however  gay  with  the  influx 
of  London  visiters — happy  as  the  con- 
scious abode  of  its  sovereign  !  Every 
thing  here  appears  in  motion — coming  or 
going.  People  at  a  watering-place  may 
be  compared  to  the  flies  of  a  summer ;  or 
to  fashionable  dresses,  or  suits  of  clothes, 
walking  about  the  streets.  The  only 
idea  you  gain  is,  of  finery  and  motion. 
The  road  between  London  and  Brighton, 
presents  some  very  charming  scenery ; 
lieigate  is  a  prettier  English  country- 
town  than  is  to  be  fckjjnd  anywhere — out 
of  England  !  As  we  entered  Brighton  in 
the  evening,  a  Frenchman  was  playing 
and  singing  to  a  guitar. — The  genius  of 
the  south  had  come  out  to  meet  us." 

When  Mr.  liazlitt  arrived  at  Brighton, 
it  was  in  the  full  season.  He  says, 
'"  A  lad  offered  to  conduct  us  to  an  inn. 


*  Did  he  think  there  was  room?'  He 
was  sure  of  it.  «  Did  he  belong  to  the 
inn  ? '  «  No,'  he  was  from  London.  In 
fact,  he  was  a  young  gentleman  trom 
town,  who  had  been  stopping  some  time 
at  the  White-horse  hotel,  and  who  wished 
to  employ  his  spare  time  (when  he  was 
not  riding  out  on  a  blood-horse)  in  serv- 
ing the  house,  and  relieving  the  perplexi- 
ties of  his  fellow-travellers.  No  one  but 
a  Londoner  would  volunteer  his  assist- 
ance in  this  way.  Amiable  land  of 
Cockayne,  happy  in  itself,  and  in  making 
others  happy !  Blest  exuberance  of  self- 
satisfaction,  that  overflows  upon  others ! 
Delightful  impertinence,  that  is  forward 
to  oblige  them !" 


It  is  here  both  in  place  and  season, 
to  quote  a  passage  of  remarkably  fine 
thought : — 

"  There  is  something  in  being  near  the 
sea,  like  the  confines  of  eternity.  It  is  a 
new  element,  a  pure  abstraction.  .  The 
mind  loves  to  hover  on  that  which  is  end- 
less, and  forever  the  same.  People  won- 
der at  a  steam-boat,  the  invention  of  man, 
managed  by  man,  that  makes  its  liquid 
path  like  an  iron  railway  through  the  sea 
— I  wonder  at  the  sea  itself,  that  vast  Le- 
viathan, rolled  round  the  earth,  smiling 
in  its  sleep,  waked  into  fury,  fathomless, 
boundless,  a  huge  world  of  water-drops. 
— Whence  is  it,  whither  goes  it,  is  it  of 
eternity  or  of  nothing  ?  Strange  ponder- 
ous riddle,  that  we  can  neither  penetrate 
nor  grasp  in  our  comprehension,  ebbing 
and  flowing  like  human  life,  and  swallow- 
ing it  up  in  thy  remorseless  womb, — what 
art  thou  ?  What  is  there  in  common  be- 
tween thy  life  and  ours,  who  gaze  at  thee  ? 
Blind,  deaf  and  old,  thou  seest  not,  hear- 
est  not,  understandest  not ;  neither  do 
we  understand,  who  behold  and  listen 
to  thee  !  Great  as  thou  art,  unconscious 
of  thy  greatness,  unwieldy,  enormous, 
preposterous  twin-birth  of  matter,  rest  in 
thy  dark,  unfathomed  cave  of  mystery, 
mocking  human  pride  and  weakness. 
Still  is  it  given  to  the  mind  of  man  to 
wonder  at  thee,  to  confess  its  ignorance, 
and  to  stand  in  awe  of  thy  stupendous 
might  and  majesty,  and  of  its  own  being, 
that  can  question  thine  !"* 

In  Mr.  Hazlitt's  "  Journey  through 
France  and  Italy,"  there  are  *  thoughts 


*  Brighton  paper. 


*  Mi.HailiU's  Journey. 


12.59 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  26. 


126C 


that  breathe  and  words  that  burn."  His 
conceptions  of  beauty  and  grandeur,  are 
at  ail  times  simple  and  vast.  His  works 
are  pervaded  by  the  results  of  profound 
thinking.  His  sentences  have  the  power 
of  elevating  things  that  are  deemed  little 
remarkable,  and  of  lowering  those  which 
successive  submissions  to  over  praise, 
have  preposterously  magnified.  Many  of 
the  remarks  on  works  of  art,  in  his  "  Notes 
of  a  Journey  through  France  and  Italy/' 
will  be  wholly  new  to  persons  who  never 
reflected  on  the  subjects  of  his  criti- 
cism, and  will  not  be  openly  assented  to 
by  others  thinking  as  he  does,  who,  for 
the  first  time,  has  ventured  to  publicly 
dissent  from  received  notions.  If  any 
of  his  opinions  be  deemed  incorrect,  the 
difference  can  easily  be  arbitrated.  Taking 
the  originals,  whether  corporeal  or  imagi- 
nary existences,  as  the  standard,  our  pure 
sight  and  feeling  may  be  relied  on  as  un- 
erring judges  of  the  imitations. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR 
Mean  Temperature  .  .     .54-27. 


ST.  CYPRIAN. 


26. 

OLD  HOLY  ROOD. 


For  these  remembrances  in  the  church 
of  England  calendar  and  almanacs,  see 
vol.  i.  p.  1324. 


Communications  of  local  customs  are 
always  received  and  inserted  with  satis- 
faction. It  is  with  peculiar  pleasure  that 
the  editor  submits  the  following,  from  a 
gentleman  with  respect  to  whom  he  has 
nothing  to  regret,  but  that  he  is  not  per- 
mitted to  honour  the  work,  by  annexing 
the  name  of  the  respectable  writer  to  the 
letter. 


PAISLEY  HALLOW-EVE  FIRES. 
SHEFFIELD  SCOTLAND  FEAST. 

Paisley,  September  21,  1826. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — Having  been  a  subscriber  to  your 
Every-Day  Booh  from  its  first  appear- 
ance in  this  town,  up  to  the  present  time, 
I  reproach  myself  with  neglect,  in  not 
having  sent  you  before  now,  an  account 
of  a  rather  singular  custom  prevalent 
here,  and,  as  it  should  seem,  of  ancient 
date. 

The  river  White  Cart,  on  which  Paisley 


stands,  although  affected  by  the  tide,  and 
navigable  to  the  town  for  vessels  not  ex- 
ceeding fifty  tons'  burden,  is  often  re- 
. mark  ably  shallow  at  low  water.  This  is 
especially  the  case  between  the  highest 
and  the  lowest  of  three  stone  bridges,  by 
which  the  old  town  or  burgh  is  connected 
with  the  new  town.  In  this  shallow  part 
of  the  stream,  parties  of  boys  construct, 
on  Hallow-eve, — the  night  when  varied 
superstitions  engross  most  of  old  Scotia's 
peasantry, — circular  raised  hearths,  if  I 
may  so  term  them,  of  earth  or  clay  ;  bor- 
dered by  a  low  round  wall  composed  of 
loose  stones,  sods,  &c.  Within  these  en- 
closures, the  boys  kindle  on  their  hearths, 
bonfires,  often  of  considerable  size.  From 
the  bridges,  the  appearance  of  these  bon- 
fires, after  nightfall,  is  singular;  and  at- 
tracts, as  spectators,  many  of  the  grown- 
up inhabitants  of  the  place.  The  number 
and  glare  of  the  fires,  their  tremulous  re- 
flection in  the  surrounding  water,  the 
dark  moving  figures  of  the  boys  that 
group  around  them,  and  the  shouts  and 
screams  set  up  by  the  youthful  urchins  in 
testimony  of  enjoyment,  might  almost 
make  one  fancy  that  the  rites  and  incan- 
tations of  magic,  or  of  wizardry,  were 
taking  place  before  one's  very  eyes.  What 
is  the  origin  of  this  custom,  or  how  long 
it  has  prevailed,  I  do  not  know. 

Ere  I  relinquish  my  pen,  allow  me  to 
describe  to  you  another  singular  custom, 
which  obtains  in  the  largest  town  of  Eng- 
land, north  of  the  Trent.*  No  one  is 
better  acquainted  than,  Mr.  Hone,  are 
you,  with  the  existence  of  the  wake  or 
feast,  still  held  annually  in  some  of  the 
towns,  and  nearly  all  the  parochial  vil- 
lages of  the  midland  and  nortnern 
counties.  In  many  of  the  larger  towns, 
the  traces  of  the  ancient  wake  are,  in- 
deed, nearly  worn  out,  and  this  is  pretty 
much  the  case  with  that  particular  town, 
to  which  reference  has  just  been  made, 
namely,  Sheffield ;  our  great  national  em- 
porium for  cutlery,  files,  edge-tools,  and 
the  better  kinds  of  plated  goods.  Only 
in  a  few  ancient  and  primitive  families, 
do  roast  beef,  plum-pudding,  and  an  extra 
allowance  of  Yorkshire  stingo,  gracing,  OB 
Trinity  Sunday,  a  large  table,  begirt  with 
some  dozen  of  happy,  and  happy-faced 

*  I  speak  advisedly.  As  a  town,  Sheffield,  the 
place  here  referred  to,  is  larger  and  more  populous 
than  Leeds.  In  1821  it  contained  with  its  suburb* 
hut  without  including  either  out-hamlels,  or  lh« 
country  part  of  the  parish,  at  least  £8,000  inhabi. 
i«uits5— Leeds  n»  more  than  48,000. 


1261 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  26. 


126* 


town  and  country  cousins,  show,  that  the 
venerable  head  of  the  family,  and  his  an- 
tique dame,  have  not  forgotten  Sheffield 
feast-day.  But  if  the  observance  of  Shef- 
field feast  itself  be  thus  partial,  and 
verging  towards  disuse,  amends  is  made 
for  the  circumstance,  in  the  establishment, 
and  pretty  vigorous  keeping  up  of  sundry 
local  feasts,  held  on  different  days,  within 
the  town,  or  in  its  suburbs.  Besides 
those  of  the  Wicker  and  little  Sheffield, 
which  are  suburban,  Broad-lane  and 
Scotland-street,  in  the  town  itself,  have 
their  respective  feasts  too.  At  Little 
Sheffield  and  in  Broad-lane,  the  zest  of 
the  annual  festivity  is  often  heightened 
by  ass-races  ;  foot-races,  masculine,  for  a 
hat ;  foot-races,  feminine,  for  a  chemise  ; 
grinning-matches;  and,  though  less  fre- 
quently, the  humours  and  rattle  of  a 
mountebank  and  his  merry  andrew.  Oc- 
casionally too  changes,  in  imitation  of 
those  on  the  church  bells,  are  rung,  by 
striking  with  a  hammer,  or  a  short  piece 
of  steel,  on  six,  eight,  or  ten  long  bars 
each  suspended  by  twine  from  the  roof  of 
a  workshop,  and  the  entire  set  chosen  so 
as  to  resemble  pretty  nearly,  a  ring  of 
bells,  both  in  diversity  and  in  sequence 
of  tone.* 

Scotland  feast,  however,  in  point  of  in- 
terest, bears  away  the  bell  from  all  the 
other  district  revels  of  Sheffield.  It  is  so 
called  from  Scotland-street,  already  men- 
tioned ;  a  longj  hilly,  and  very  populous 
one,  situated  in  the  northern  part  of  the 
town.  On  the  eve  of  tne  feast,  which  is 
yearly  held  on  the  29th  of  May,  the  an- 
niversary of  the  restoration  of  our  second 
Charles,  parties  of  the  inhabitants  repair 
into  the  neighbouring  country;  whence, 
chiefly  however  from  Walkley-bank, 
celebrated'  as  Sheffield  schoolboys  too 
well  know  for  birch  trees,  they  bring 
home,  at  dead  of  night,  or  morning's 
earliest  dawn,  from  sixteen  to  twenty 
well-sized  trees,  besides  a  profusion  of 
branches.  The  trees  they  instantly  plant 
in  two  rows  ;  one  on  each  side  of  the 
street,  just  without  the  kirbstone  of  the 
flagged  pavement.  With  the  branches, 
they  decorate  the  doors  and  windows  of 
houses,  the  sign-boards  of  drinking-shops, 

»  When  the  period  for  which  an  apprentice  is 
bound  (seven  years)  expires,  his  "loosing"  is  held 
by  himself,  and  shopmates.  Then  are  these  steel 
bells  made  to  jangle  all  day.  At  night  the  loosing 
is  farther  celebrated  by  a  supper  and  booze.  The 
parochial  ringers  frequently  attend  festivities  with 
a  set  of  hand-bells,  which,  in  the  estimation  of  their 
auditors,  thtv  mate  "  discourse  mont  eloquent 
rn»wic." 


and  so  on.  By  five  or  six  in  the  morning 
Scotland-street,  which  is  not  very  wide, 
has  the  appearance  of  a  grove.  And 
soon,  from  ropes  stretched  across  it,  three, 
four,  or  five,  superb  garlands  delight  the 
eyes,  and  dance  over  the  heads  of  the 
feast-folk.  These  garlands  are  composed 
of  hoops,  wreathed  round  with  foliage 
and  flowers,  fluttering  with  variously 
coloured  ribands,  rustling  with  asidew,* 
and  gay  with  silver  tankards,  pints, 
watches,  &c.  Before  the  door  of  the  prin- 
cipal alehouse,  the  largest  tree  is  always 
planted.  The  sign  of  this  house  is,  if 
memory  do  not  deceive  me,  the  royal  oak.-f' 
But  be  this  as  it  may,  certain  it  is,  that 
duly  ensconced  among  the  branches  of 
the  said  tree,  may  always  be  seen  the  ef- 
figy, in  small,  of  king  Charles  the  Second  : 
to  commemorate  indeed  the  happy  con- 
cealment and  remarkable  escape  of  the 
merry  monarch,  at  Boscobel,  should  seem 
to  be  the  object  of  creating  a  sylvan  scene 
at  "Scotland  feast ;"  while  that  of  holding 
the  feast  itself  on  the  anniversary  of  his 
restoration  is,  there  can  be  little  doubt, 
to  celebrate  with  honour  the  principal 
event  in  the  life  of  him,  after  whose  an- 
cient and  peculiar  kingdom  the  street  it- 
self is  named.  To  the  particulars  already 
given, *it  needs  scarcely  be  added,  that 
dancing,  drinking,  and  other  merry-mak- 
ing are,  as  a  Scotsman  would  say,  ri/5?,J 
at  the  annual  commemoration  thus  briefly 
described. 

Thanking  you  for  much  instruction,  as 
well   as   entertainment,   already  derived 
from  your  book,  and  wishing  you  success 
from  its  publication,  I  remain,  Sir, 
Your  obedient  servant, 

GULIELMU8 


In  vol.  i.  col.  1213,  arsedine  is  noticed 
as  having  been  in  use  at  Bartholomew 
fair,  and  Mr  Archdeacon  Nares's  suppo- 
sition is  mentioned,  that  arsedine,  arsadine, 
or  orsden,  as  it  was  variously  called,  was 
a  corruption  of  arsenic,  or  orpiment.  The 
editor  then  ventured  to  hazard  a  different 
suggestion,  and  show  that  the  word  might 
be  saxon,  and  expressive  of  "  pigments 

*  Asidew.  The  orthography  of  this  word  may  be 
wrong.  I  never,  to  my  knowledge,  saw  it  written. 
It  is  used  in  Sheffield  to  express  a  thin,  very  thin 
brass  leaf,  of  a  high  gold  colour. 

t  In  my  boyish  days,  one  Ludlain  kept  it.    Wat 
it  he  to  whom  belonged  the  dog  which  gave  occa- 
sion to  this  proverbial  saying  ?  "  At  HI-  as  l.udlam 
dog,  that  lay  down  to  bark  ?" 

t  Abundant. 


1263 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  27. 


1204 


obtained  from  minerals  and  metals."  Since 
then,  a  note  in  Mr.  Sharp's  remarkably 
interesting  "Dissertation  on  the  Country 
Mysteries,"  seems  to  favour  the  notion. 

Mr.  Sharp  says,  "At  the  end  of  Gent's 
'History  of  York,  1730,' is  an  advertise- 
ment of  numerous  articles,  sold  by  Ham- 
mond, a  bookseller  of  that  city,  and 
amongst  the  rest  occurs  '  Assidue  or  horse- 
gold,'  the  very  next  article  to  which,  is 
'  hobby-horse-bells/ — A  dealer  in  Dutch 
metal,  Michael  Oppenheim,  27,  Mansell- 
street,  Goodman's-fields,  thus  described 
himself  in  1816 — 'Importer  of  bronze 
powder,  Dutch  metal,  and  OR-SEDEW/ 
and  upon  inquiry  respecting  the  last  ar- 
ticle, it  proved  to  be  that  thin  yellow 
metal,  generally  known  by  the  name  of 
tinsel,  much  used  for  ornamenting  child- 
ren's dolls,  hobby-horses,  and  some  toys, 
as  well  as  manufactured  into  various 
showy  articles  of  dress.  The  word  orse- 
dew  is  evidently  a  corruption  of  oripeau 
t.  e.  leaf  (or  skin)  gold,  afterwards  brass. 
The  Spaniards  call  it  oropoel,  gold-skin, 
and  the  Germans  flitter-gold."* 

Through  Mr.  Sharp  we  have,  at  length, 
attained  to  a  knowledge  of  this  substance 
as  the  true  arsedine  of  onr  forefathers,  and 
the  asidew  of  the  Sheffield  merry-makers 
at  present. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR,. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  55  •  57. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  27th  of  September,  1772,  died 
at  Turnhurst,  in  Staffordshire,  James 
Brindley,  a  man  celebrated  for  extra- 
ordinary mechanical  genius  and  skilful 
labours  in  inland  navigation.  He  was 
born  at  Tunsted,  in  the  parish  of  Worm- 
hill,  Derbyshire,  in  1716,  where  he  contri- 
buted to  support  his  parents'  family  till  he 
was  nearly  seventeen  years  of  age,  when 
he  bound  himself  apprentice  to  a  wheel- 
wright named  Bennet,  near  Macclesfield, 
in  Cheshire.  In  the  early  period  of  his 
apprenticeship,  he  performed  several  parts 
of  the  business  without  instruction,  and 
so  satisfied  the  millers,  that  he  was  always 
Consulted  in  preference  to  his  master,  and 
nefore  the  expiration  of  his  servitude, 
when  Mr.  Bennet,  by  his  age  and  infmni- 

*  Mr.  Sharp's  Dimrution,  p.  29. 


ties,  became  unable  to  work,  h*>  carried 
on  the  business,  and  provided  a  comfort- 
able suosistence  for  the  old  man  and  his 
family-. 

About  this  time  Bennet  was  employed 
in  constructing  an  engine  paper-mill,  the 
first  of  the  kind  that  had  been  attempted 
in  these  parts ;  but,  as  he  was  likely  to 
fail  in  the  execution  of  it,  Mr.  Brindley, 
without  communicating  his  design,  set  out 
on  Saturday  evening  after  the  business  of 
the  day  was  finished,  and  having  inspected 
the  work,  returned  home  on  Monday 
morning,  after  a  journey  of  fifty  miles, 
informed  his  master  of  its  defects,  and 
completed  the  engine  to  the  entire  satis- 
faction of  the  proprietors.  He  afterwards 
engaged  in  the  mill-wright  business  on  his 
own  account.  The  fame  of  his  inventions 
in  a  little  while  spread  far  beyond  his  own 
neighbourhood.  In  1752,  he  was  em- 
ployed to  erect  a  curious  water-engine  at 
Clifton,  in  Lancashire,  for  the  purpose  of 
draining  coal-mines,  which  had  before 
been  performed  at  an  enormous  expense. 
The  water  for  the  use  of  this  engine  was 
conveyed  from  the  river  Irwell  by  a  sub- 
terraneous channel,  nearly  six  hundred 
yards  long,  which  passed  through  a  rock; 
and  the  wheel  was  fixed  thirty  feet  below 
the  surface  of  the  ground. 

In  1755,  he  constructed  a  new  silk- 
mill  at  Congleton,  in  Cheshire,  according 
to  the  plan  proposed  by  the  proprietors, 
after  the  execution  of  it  by  the  original 
undertaker  had  failed  ;  and  in  the  com- 
pletion of  it  he  added  many  new  and  use- 
ful improvements.  He  introduced  one 
contrivance  for  winding  the  silk  upon  the 
bobbins  equally,  and  not  in  wreaths ;  and 
another  for  stopping,  in  an  instant,  not 
only  the  whole  of  this  extensive  system,  in 
all  its  various  movements,  but  any  indi- 
dual  part  of  it  at  pleasure.  He  likewise 
invented  machines  for  cutting  the  tooth 
and  pinion  wheels  of  the  different  engines, 
in  a  manner  that  produced  a  great  saving 
of  time,  labour,  and  expense.  He  also 
introduced  into  the  mills,  used  at  the  pot- 
teries in  Staffordshire  for  grinding  flint- 
stones,  several  valuable  additions,  which 
greatly  facilitated  the  operation. 

In  1756,  he  constructed  a  steam-engine 
at  Newcastle-under-Line,  upon  a  new 
plan.  The  boiler  was  made  with  brick 
and  stone,  instead  of  iron  plates,  and  the 
water  was  heated  by  fire-pi  acos,  so  con- 
structed as  to  save  the  consumption  of 
fuel.  He  also  introduced  cylinders  of 
wood  instead  of  those  of  iron,  and  substi- 


1265 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. —SEPTEMBER  27. 


1200 


tuted  wood  for  iron  in  the  chains  which 
worked  at  the  end  of  the  beam.  But  from 
these  and  similar  contrivances  for  the  im- 
provement of  this  useful  engine,  his  at- 
tention was  diverted  by  the  great  national 
object  of  "  inland  navigation."  In  plan- 
ning and  executing  canals  his  mechanical 
genius  found  ample  scope  for  exercise, 
and  formed  a  soit  of  distinguishing  era 
in  the  history  of  our  country. 

Envy  and  prejudice  raised  a  variety  of 
obstacles  to  the  accomplishment  of  his 
designs  and  undertakings ;  and  if  he  had 
not  been  liberally  and  powerfully  pro- 
tected by  the  duke  of  Bridgwater,  his 
triumph  over  the  opposition  with  which 
he  encountered  must  have  been  consider- 
ably obstructed.  The  duke  possessed 
an  estate  at  Worsley,  about  seven  miles 
from  Manchester,  rich  in  mines  of  coal, 
from  which  he  derived  little  or  no  advan- 
tage, on  account  of  the  expense  attending 
the  conveyance  by  land  carriage  to  a  suit- 
able market.  A  canal  from  Worsley  to 
Manchester,  Mr.  Brindley  declared  to  be 
practicable.  His  grace  obtained  an  act 
for  that  purpose  ;  and  Brindley  was  em- 
ployed in  the  conduct  and  execution  of 
this,  the  first  undertaking  of  the  kind  ever 
attempted  in  England,  with  navigable 
subterraneous  tunnels  and  elevated  aque- 
ducts. At  the  commencement  of  the  bu- 
siness it  was  determined,  that  the  level  of 
the  water  should  be  preserved  without  the 
usual  obstruction  of  locks,  and  to  carry 
the  canal  over  rivers  and  deep  vallies.  It 
was  not  easy  to  obtain  a  sufficient  supply 
of  water  for  completing  the  navigation, 
but  Brindley,  furnished  with  ample  re- 
sources, persevered,  and  conquered  all 
the  embarrassments,  occasioned  by  the 
nature  of  the  undertaking,  and  by  the 
passions  and  prejudices  of  individuals. 
Having  completed  the  canal  as  far  as 
Barton,  where  the  river  Irwell  is  navigable 
for  large  vessels,  he  proposed  to  carry  it 
over  that  river  by  an  aqueduct  thirty-nine 
feet  above  the  surface  of  the  water.  This 
was  considered  as  a  chimerical  and  ex- 
travagant project;  and  an  eminent  en- 
gineer said,  "  I  have  often  heard  of  castles 
in  the  air,  but  never  before  was  shown 
where  any  of  them  were  to  be  erected." 
The  duke  of  Bridgwater,  confiding  in  the 
judgment  of  Brindley,  empowered  him  to 
prosecute  the  work  ;  and  in  about  ten 
months  the  aqueduct  was  completed. 
This  astonishing  work  commenced  in 
September,  1 760,  and  the  first  boat  sailed 
over  it  the  1  7th  of  July,  1 761 .  The  canal 


was  then  extended  to  Manchester,  where 
Mr.  Brindley's  ingenuity  in  diminishing 
labour  by  mechanical  contrivances,  was 
exhibited  in  a  machine  for  landing  coals 
upon  the  top  of  a  hill. 

The  duke  of  Bridgwater  extended  his 
views  to  Liverpool ;  and  obtained,  in 
1762,  an  act  of  parliament  for  branching 
his  canal  to  the  tide-way  in  the  Mersey. 
This  part  is  carried  over  the  river  Mersey 
and  Bollan,  and  over  many  wide  and 
deep  vallies.  Over  the  vallies  it  is  con- 
ducted without  a  single  lock  ;  and  across 
the  valley  at  Stretford,  through  which  the 
Mersey  runs,  a  mound  of  earth,  raised  for 
preserving  the  water,  extends  for  nearly  a 
mile.  In  the  execution  of  every  part  of 
the  navigation,  Mr.  Brindley  displayed 
singular  skill  and  ingenuity ;  and  in  order 
to  facilitate  his  purpose,  he  produced 
many  valuable  machines.  His  economy 
and  forecast  are  peculiarly  discernible  in 
the  stops,  or  flood-gates,  fixed  in  the 
canal,  where  it  is  above  the  level  of  the 
land.  They  are  so  constructed,  that  if  any 
of  the  banks  should  give  way  and  occa- 
sion a  current,  the  adjoining  gates  will 
rise  merely  by  that  motion,  and  prevent 
any  other  part  of  the  water  from  escaping 
than  that  which  is  near  the  breach  between 
the  two  gates. 

Encouraged  by  the  success  of  the  duke 
of  Bridgwater's  undertakings,  a  subscrip- 
tion was  entered  into  by  a  number  of 
gentlemen  and  manufacturers  in  Stafford- 
shire, for  constructing  a  canal  through 
that  county.  In  1766,  this  canal,  "The 
Grand  Trunk  Navigation,"  was  begun ; 
and  it  was  conducted  with  spirit  and  suc- 
cess, under  the  direction  of  Brindley,  as 
long  as  he  lived. 

After  this,  Brindley  constructed  a  canal 
from  the  Grand  Trunk,  near  Haywood,  in 
Staffordshire,  to  the  river  Severn  near 
Bewdley,  connecting  Bristol  with  Liver- 
pool and  Hull.  This  canal,  about  forty- 
six  miles  in  length,  was  completed  in 
1772.  His  next  undertaking  was  a  canal 
from  Birmingham,  which  should  unite 
with  the  Staffordshire  and  Worcestershire, 
canal  near  Wolverhampton.  It  is  twenty 
six  miles  in  length,  and  was  finished  in 
about  three  years.  To  avoid  the  incon- 
venience of  locks,  and  for  the  more  effec- 
tual supply  of  the  canal  with  water,  he 
advised  a  tunnel  at  Smethwick ;  his  ad- 
vice was  disregarded  ;  and  the  managers 
were  afterwards  under  the  necessity  of 
erecting  two  steam  engines.  He  executed 
the  canal  fron  Droitwich  to  the  Severn, 


1267 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  27. 


1268 


for  the  conveyance  of  salt  and  coals  ;  and 
planned  the  Coventry  navigation,  which 
was  for  some  time  under  his  direction ; 
but  a  dispute  arising,  he  resigned  his 
office.  Some  short  time  before  his  death, 
he  began  the  Oxfordshire  canal,  which, 
uniting  with  the  Coventry  canal,  serves  as 
a  continuation  of  the  Grand  Trunk  navi- 
gation to  Oxford,  and  thence  by  the 
Thames  to  London. 

Mr.  Brindley's  last  undertaking  was 
the  canal  from  Chesterfield  to  the  river 
Trent  at  Stock  with.  He  surveyed  and 
planned  the  whole,  and  executed  some 
miles  of  the  navigation,  which  was  finished 
five  years  after  his  death  by  his  brother-in- 
law,  Mr.  Henshall,  in  1777.  Such  was 
Mr.  Brindley's  established  reputation,  that 
few  woiks  of  this  kind  were  undertaken 
without  his  advice.  They  are  too  numer- 
ous to  be  particularized,  but  it  may  be 
added  that  he  gave  the  corporation  of 
Liverpool  a  plan  for  clearing  their  docks 
of  mud,  which  has  been  practised  with 
success ;  and  proposed  a  method,  which 
has  also  succeeded,  of  building  walls 
against  the  sea  without  mortar.  The  last 
of  his  inventions  was  an  improved  machine 
for  drawing  water  out  of  mines,  by  a 
losing  and  gaining  bucket,  which  he  after- 
wards employed  with  advantage  in  raising 
coals. 

When  difficulties  occurred  in  the  exe- 
cution of  any  of  Mr.  Brindley's  works,  he 
had  no  recourse  to  books,  or  to  the  labours 
of  other  persons.  All  his  resources  were 
m  his  own  inventive  mind.  He  generally 
retired  to  bed,  and  lay  there  one,  two,  or 
three  days,  till  he  had  devised  the  expe- 
dients which  he  needed  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  his  objects ;  he  then  got  up, 
and  executed  his  design  without  any 
drawing  or  model,  which  he  never  used, 
except  for  the  satisfaction  of  his  employ- 
ers. His  memory  was  so  tenacious,  that 
he  could  remember  and  execute  all  the 
parts  of  the  most  complex  machine,  pro- 
vided he  had  time,  in  his  previous  survey, 
to  settle,  in  his  mind,  the  several  depart- 
ments, and  their  relations  to  each  other. 
In  his  calculations  of  the  powers  of  any 
machine,  he  performed  the  requisite  oper- 
ation by  a  mental  process,  in  a  manner 
which  none  knew  but  himself,  and  which, 
perhaps,  he  was  not  able  to  communicate 
to  others.  After  certain  intervals  of  con- 
sideration, he  noted  down  the  result  in 
figures ;  and  then  proceeded  to  operate 
upon  that  result,  until  at  length  the  com- 
plete solution  was  obtained,  which  was 


generally  right.  His  want  of  literature, 
indeed,  compelled  him  to  cultivate,  in  an 
extraordinary  degree,  the  art  of  memory  ; 
and  in  order  to  facilitate  the  revival,  in  his 
mind,  of  those  visible  objects  and  their 
properties,  to  which  his  attention  was 
chiefly  directed,  he  secluded  himself  from 
the  external  impressions  of  other  objects, 
in  the  solitude  of  his  bed. 

Incessant  attention  to  important  and  in- 
teresting objects,  precluded  Mr.  Brind- 
ley  from  any  of  the  ordinary  amuse- 
ments of  life,  and  indeed,  prevented  his 
deriving  from  them  any  pleasure.  He 
was  once  prevailed  upon  by  his  friends  in 
London  to  see  a  play,  but  he  found  his 
ideas  so  much  disturbed,  and  his  mind 
rendered  so  unfit  for  business,  as  to  in- 
duce him  to  declare,  that  he  would  not  on 
any  account  go  to  another.  It  is  not  im- 
probable, however,  that  by  indulging  an 
occasional  relaxation,  remitting  his  appli- 
cation, and  varying  his  pursuits,  his  life 
might  have  been  prolonged.  The  multi- 
plicity of  his  engagements,  and  the  con- 
stant attention  which  he  bestowed  on 
them,  brought  on  a  hectic  fever,  which  con- 
tinued, with  little  or  no  intermission,  for 
some  years,  and  at  last  terminated  his 
useful  and  honourable  career,  in  the  56th 
year  of  age.  He  was  buiied  at  New 
Chapel,  in  the  same  county. 

Such  was  the  enthusiasm  with  which 
this  extraordinary  man  engaged  in  all 
schemes  of  inland  navigation,  that  he 
seemed  to  regard  all  rivers  with  contempt, 
when  compared  with  canals.  It  is  said, 
that  in  an  examination  before  the  house 
of  commons,  when  he  was  asked  for  what 
purpose  he  apprehended  rivers  were 
created,  he  replied,  after  some  delibera- 
tion, •*  to  feed  navigable  canals."  Those 
who  knew  him  well,  highly  respected  him 
"  for  the  uniform  and  unshaken  integrity 
of  his  conduct ;  for  his  steady  attachment 
to  the  interest  of  the  community  ;  for  the 
vast  compass  of  his  understanding,  which 
seemed  to  have  a  natural  affinity  with  all 
grand  objects ;  and,  likewise,  for  many 
noble  and  .beneficial  designs,  constantly 
generating  in  his  mind,  and  which  the 
multiplicity  of  his  engagements,  and  the 
shortness  of  his  life,  prevented  him  from 
bringing  to  maturity."* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  55  •  50 

Ree»'»  Cyclopaedia.  Biog.  Brit. 


1269 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  28. 


1270 


28. 


MADAME  GENEVA  LYING  IN  STATE. 

On  the  28th  of  September,  1736,  when 
the  "  Gin  Act,"  which  was  passed  to  pre- 
vent the  retailing  of  spirituous  liquors  in 
small  quantities  was  about  to  be  enforced, 
it  was  deemed  necessary  to  send  a  de- 
tachment of  sixty  soldiers  from  Kensing- 
ton to  protect  the  house  of  sir  Joseph 
Jekyl,  the  master  of  the  rolls  in  Chancery- 
lane,  from  the  violence  threatened  by  the 
populace  against  that  eminent  lawyer  for 
his  endeavours  in  procuring  the  obnoxious 
statute. 

The  keepers  of  the  gin-shops  testified 
their  feelings  by  a  parade  of  mock  cere- 
monies for  "  Madame  Geneva  lying-in- 
state," which  created  a  mob  about  their 
shops,  and  the  justices  thought  proper  to 
commit  some  of  the  chief  mourners  to 
prison.  On  this  occasion,  the  signs  of  the 
punch-houses  were  put  in  mourning  ;  and 
lest  others  should  express  the  bitterness  of 
their  hearts  by  committing  violences,  the 
horse  and  foot-guards  and  trained  bands 
were  ordered  to  be  properly  stationed. 
Many  of  the  distillers,  instead  of  spending 
their  time  in  empty  lamentations,  betook 
themselves  to  other  branches  of  industry. 
Some  to  the  brewing  trade,  which  raised 
the  price  of  barley  and  hops  ;  some  took 
taverns  in  the  universities,  which  nobody 
could  do  before  the  "  Gin  Act,"  without 
leave  of  the  vice-chancellor  ;  others  set  up 
apothecaries'  shops.  The  only  persons  who 
took  out  fifty  pound  licenses  were  one 
Gordon,  Mr.  Ashley  of  the  London  punch- 
house,  and  one  more.  Gordon,  a  punch- 
seller  in  the  Strand,  devised  a  new  punch 
made  of  strong  Madeira  wine,  and  called 
Sangre.* 

COUNTY  CUSTOMS. 

It  may  be  hoped  that  our  readers  who 
live  in  the  apple  districts  will  communi- 
cate the  usages  of  their  neighbourhoods 
to  the  Every-Day  Book.  For  the  present 
we  must  thank  "  an  old  correspondent.'' 

GRIGOLING. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Dear  Sir,  —  The  more  I  read  of  your 
Every-Day  Book,  the  stronger  my  recol- 
lection returns  to  my  boyhood  days. 
There  is  not  a  season  wherein  I  felt 
greater  delight  than  during  the  gathering 
in  of  the  orchards'  produce.  The  cider 

•  G^nt'-man's  Magazine. 


barrels  cleaned  and  aired  from  the  cellar 
— the  cider-mill  ready — the  baskets  and 
press,  the  vats,  the  horse-hair  cloths,  and 
the  loft,  fitted  for  the  process  and  com- 
pletion of  making  cider — the  busy  people 
according  to  Philips,  seek — 

The  pippin,  burnish'd  o'er  with  gold, 
Of  sweetest  honey'd  taste,  the  fair  permain, 
Temper'd  like  comeliest  nymph,  with  white 
and  red. 

Let  every  tree  in  every  garden  own, 

The   redstreak   as   supreme,   whose    pulpous 

fruit, 

With  gold  irradiate,  and  vermillion  shines. 
Hail  Herefordian  plant !  that  dost  disdain 
AH  other  fields. 

The  Herefordshire  cider  is  so  exquisite, 
that  when  the  earl  of  Manchester  was 
ambassador  in  France,  he  is  said  fre- 
quently to  have  passed  this  beverage  on 
their  nobility  for  a  delicious  wine. 

Leasing  in  the  corn-fields  after  the 
sheaves  are  borne  to  the  garner,  is  per- 
formed by  villagers  of  all  ages,  that  are 
justly  entitled  to  glean,  like  ants,  the  little 
store  against  a  rainy  day.  But  after  the 
orchard  is  cleared,  (and  how  delightful  a 
shower — he  shaking  the  Newton  instruct- 
ing apples  down,)  the  village  (not  chimney- 
sweepers) climbing  boys  collect  in  a 
posse",  and  with  poles  and  bags,  go  into 
the  orchard  and  commence  griggling. 

The  small  apples  are  called  griggles. 
These,  the  farmers  leave  pretty  abun- 
dantly on  the  trees,  with  an  understanding 
that  the  urchins  will  have  mercy  on  the 
boughs,  which,  if  left  entirely  bare,  would 
suffer.  Suspended  like  monkeys,  the  best 
climbers  are  the  ring-leaders ;  and  less 
boys  pick  up  and  point  out  where  an  apple 
still  remains.  After  the  trees  are  cleared, 
a  loud  huzza  crowns  the  exertion ;  and 
though  a  little  bickering  as  to  the  quality 
and  quantity  ensues,  they  separate  with 
their  portion,  praising  or  blaming  the 
owner,  proportionate  to  their  success.  It 
he  requests  it,  which  is  often  the  case  be- 
fore they  depart,  the  head  boy  stands  be- 
fore the  house,  and  uncovered,  he  recites 
the  well-known  fable  in  the  "  Universal 
Spelling  Book"—"  A  rude  boy  stealing 
apples." — Then  the  hostess,  or  her 
daughter,  brings  a  large  jug  of  cider  and 
a  slice  of  bread  and  cheese,  or  twopence, 
to  the  great  pleasure  of  the  laughing  reci- 
pients of  such  generous  bounty. 

Down  to  the  present  month  the  custom 
of  griggling  is  continued  with  variation 
in  the  western  hamlets,  though  innova^ 
tion,  whicb  is  the  abuse  of  privilege,  has 


1271 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  29. 


127 


prevented  many  orchard-owners  allowing 
»ha  boys  their  griggling  perambulations. 
With  much  respect,  I  am,  &c. 

P. T. *,     *,     P. 

September  20,  1826. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     ....  53  •  37. 


29. 


ST.  MICHAEL. 

In  the  former  volume,  there  are  parti- 
culars of  St.  Michael,  at  col.  500,  629, 
and  1325.  To  the  latter  article,  there  is 
a  print  of  this  archangel,  with  six  others 
of  his  order  :  on  the  present  page  he  ap- 
pears with  other  characteristics. 


This  print  from  a  large  engraving  on 
copper,  by  one  of  the  Caracci  family  in 
1582,  after  a  picture  by  Lorenzo  Sabba- 
tini  of  Bologna,  represents  the  holy 
family,  and  St.  John,  and  St.  Michael 
standing  on  the  devil,  and  presenting  souls 
to  the  infant  Jesus  from  a  pair  of  scales. 
The  artist  has  adopted  this  mode  to  con- 
vey a  notion  of  the  archangel,  in  quality 


of  his  office,  as  chief  of  the  guardian  an- 
gels, and  judge  of  the  claims  of  departed 
spirits.  In  vol.  i.  p.  630,  there  are 
notices  relative  to  St.  Michael  in  this 

capacity.  

The  church  of  Notre  Dame,  at  Paris, 
rebuilt  by  "  devout  king  Robert,"  was 
conspicuously  honoured  by  a  statue  of  the 
chief  of  the  angelic  hierarchy,  with  hit 


1273 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  30. 


1274 


scales.  "  On  the  top,  and  pinnacle  before 
the  said  church,"  says  Favine,  "  is  yet  to 
he  seene  the  image  of  the  arch-angell  St. 
Michael,  the  tutelaric  angell,  and  guardian 
of  the  most  Christian  monarchic  of  France, 
ensculptured  after  the  antique  forme,  hold- 
ing a  ballance  in  the  one  hand,  and  a 
crosse  in  the  other;  on  his  head,  and 
toppe  of  his  wings,  are  fixed  and  cram- 
ponned  strong  pikes  of  iron  to  keepe  the 
birds  from  pearching  thereon." 

Favine  proceeds  to  mention  a  popular 
error  concerning  these  "  pikes  of  iron," 
to  defend  the  statue  from  the  birds.  "The 
ignorant  vulgar  conceived  that  this  was  a 
crowne  of  eares  of  corne,  and  thought  it 
to  be  the  idole  of  the  goddesse  Ceres" 
He  says  this  is  "  a  matter  wherein  they 
are  much  deceived;  for  Isis  and  Ceres 
being  but  one  and  the  same,  her  temple 
was  at  S.  Ceour  and  S.  Germain  des 
Prez."* 

*  Theater  of  Honour,  Lond.  1623,  fol. 


Louis  XI.  instituted  an  order  in  honour 
of  St.  Michael,  the  arch-angel,  on  occasion 
of  an  alleged  apparition  of  the  saint  on 
the  bridge  at  Orleans,  when  that  city  was 
besieged  by  the  English  in  1428. 


ST.  GEORGE. 

It  has  been  intimated  in  vol.  i.,  col.  500, 
that  there  are  grounds  to  imagine  "  that 
St.  George  and  the  dragon  are  neither 
more  rior  less  than  St.  Michael  contend- 
ing with  the  devil.''  The  reader  who  de- 
sires further  light  on  this  head,  will  de- 
rive it  from  a  dissertation  by  Dr.  Pet- 
tin  gall,  expressly  on  the  point.  It  may 
here,  perhaps,  be  opportune  to  introduce 
the  usual  representation  of  St.  George 
and  the  dragon,  by  an  impression  from 
an  original  wood-block,  obligingly  pre- 
sented to  this  work  by  Mr.  Horace  Rodd. 


anti  tfct  Bragmu 


To-morrow  morning  we  shall  have  you  look, 

For  all  your  great  words,  like  St.  George  at  Kingston, 

Running  a  footback  from  the  furious  dragon, 

That  with  her  angrie  tail  belabours  him 

For  being  ia^ie.  Woman'*  Prize. 


So  say  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  from 
whence  we  learn  that  the  prowess  of  "  St. 
George  for  England,"  was  ludicrously 
travestied. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  55  •  27. 


30. 


THE  SEASON 

It  is  noted  under  the  present  day  in 
the  "  Perennial  Calendar,"  that  at  "this 
time  the  heat  of  the  middle  cf  the  days  is 
stiP  sufficient  to  warm  the  earth,  ana 
cause  a  large  ascent  of  vapour  :  that  the 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  30 


chilling  frosty  nights,  which  are  also  ge- 
nerally very  calm,  condense  into  mists ; 
differing  from  clouds  only  in  rem  lining 
on  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

Now  by  the  cool  declining  year  condensed, 
Descend  the  copious  exhalations,  check'd 
As  up  the  middle  sky  unseen  they  stole, 
And  roll  the  doubling  fogs  around  the  hill. 

Thence  expanding  far, 

The  huge  dusk  gradual  swallows  up  the  plain 
Vanish  the  woods  ;  the  dimsecn  river  seems 
Sullen  and  slow  to  roll  the  misty  wave. 
Even  in  the  height  of  noon  oppressed,  the  sun 
Sheds  weak  and  blunt  his  wide  refracted  ray  ; 
Whence  glaring  oft,  with  many  a  broadened  orb, 
He  frights  the  nations.     Indistinct  on  earth, 
Seen  through  the  turbid  air,  beyond  the  life 
Objects  appear,  and  wildered  o'er  the  waste, 
The  shepherd  stalks  gigantic. 


"  EXTRAORDINARY  NEWS  1" 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Evenj-Day  Book. 
Sir, — The  character  and  manners  of  a 
people  may  be  often  correctly  ascertained 
by  an  attentive  examination  of  their  fami- 
liar customs  and  sayings.  The  investiga- 
tion of  these  peculiarities,  as  they  tend  to 
enlarge  the  knowledge  of  human  nature, 
and  illustrate  national  history,  as  well  as  to 
mark  the  fluctuation  of  language,  and  to 
explain  the  usages  of  antiquity,  is,  theie- 
fore,  deserving  of  high  commendation; 
and,  though  occasionally,  in  the  course  of 
those  inquiries,  some  whimsical  stories 
are  related,  and  some  very  homely  phrases 
and  authorities  cited,  they  are  the  occur- 
rences of  every  day,  and  no  way  seem  to 
disqualify  the  position  in  which  several 
amusing-  and  popular  customs  are  brought 
forward  to  general  view.  Under  this  im- 
pression, it  will  not  be  derogatory  to  the 
Every-Day  Book,  to  observe  that  by  such 
communications,  it  will  become  an  assem- 
Dlage  of  anecdotes,  fragments,  remarks, 
and  vestiges,  collected  and  recollected : — 

Various, — that  the  mind 

Of  desultory  man,  studious  of  change, 
And  pleas'd  with  novelty,  may  be  indulged. 

Cowper. 

Should  the  following  extract,  from  a  vo- 
lume of  Miscellaneous  Poems,  edited  by 
Elijah  Fenton,  and  printed  by  Bernard 
Lintot,  without  date,  but  anterior  to  1720, 
in  octavo,  be  deemed  by  you,  from  the  fore- 
going observations,  deserving  of  notice,  it 
is  at  your  service. 

Old  Bennet  was  an  eccentric  person, 
at  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  who 
appears  to  have  excited  much  noise  in 
London. 


On  the  Death  of  OLD  BONNET,  the  News 

Cryer. 
**  One  evening,  when  the  sun  was  just  gone 

down, 

As  I  was  walking  thro'  the  noisy  town, 
A  sudden  silence  through   each   street   was 

spread, 

As  if  the  soul  of  London  had  been  fled. 
Much  I  inquired   the  cause,  but  could  not  ^ 

hear,  ( 

Till  fame,  so  frightened,  that  she  did  not  dare  f 
To  raise  her  voice,  thus  whisper'd  in  my  ear :  J 
Bennet,  the  prince  of  hawkers,  is  no  more, 
Bennet,  my  Herald  on  the  British  shore  j 
Bennet,  by  whom,  I  own  myself  outdone, 
Tho'  I  a  hundred  mouths,  he  had  but  one. 
He,  when  the  list'ning  town  he  would  amuse, 
Maae  echo  tremole  with  his  '  bloody  news.11 
^No  niure  snail  Ecno.  now  his  voice  return, 
Ecno  lor  ever  must  m  siience  mourn. — 
Lamer*.,  ye  neroes,  wno  !requent  the  wars, 
The  great  orociaimer  oi  vour  dreadful  scars. 
Thus  wept  the  conqueror,  ".vho  the  world  o'er- 

came, 

Homer  was  wanting  to  enlarge  his  fame 
Homer,  the  first  of  hawkers  that  is  known, 
Great  news  from  Troy,  cried  up  and  down  the 

town. 

None  like  him  has  there  been  for  ages  past, 
Till  our  stentorian  Bennet  came  at  last. 
Homer  and  Bennet  were  in  this  agreed, 
Homer  was   blind,    and    Bennet  could  not 

read." 

"  Bloody  News ! "  "  Great  Victory  ! " 
or  more  frequently  "Extraordinary  Ga- 
zette!" were,  till  recently,  the  usual  loud 
bellowings  of  fellows,  with  stentorian 
lungs,  accompanied  by  a  loud  blast  of  a 
long  tin-horn,  which  announced  to  the 
delighted  populace  of  London,  the  martial 
achievements  of  the  modern  Marlborough. 
These  itinerants,  for  the  most  part,  were  the 
link-men  at  the  entrances  to  the  theatres  ; 
and  costermongers,  or  porters,  'assisting 
in  various  menial  offices  during  the  day. 
A  copy  of  the  "  Gazette,"  or  newspaper 
they  were  crying,  was  generally  affixed 
under  the  hatband,  in  front,  and  their 
demand  for  a  newspaper  generally  one 
shilling. 

Those  newscriers  are  spoken  off  in  the 
past  sense,  as  the  further  use  of  the  horn 
is  prohibited  by  the  magistracy,  subject 
to  a  penalty  of  ten  shillings  for  a  tirst 
offence,  and  twenty  shillings  on  the  con- 
viction of  repeating  so  heinous  a  crime. 
"  Oh,  dear  !"  as  Crockery  says,  I  think  in 
these  times  of  "  modern  improvement," 
every  thing  is  changing,  and  in  many  in- 
stances, much  for  the  worse. 

I  suspect  that  you,  Mr.  Editor,  possess 
a  fellow-feeling  on  the  subject,  and  shall 


1277 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  30. 


1278 


no  further  trespass  on  your  time,  or  on 
the  reader's  patience,  than  by  expressing 
a  wish  that  many  alterations  were  actuated 
by  manly  and  humane  intentions,  and 
that  less  of  over-legislation  and  selfishness 
were  evinced  in  these  pretended  endea- 
vours to  promote  the  good  of  society. 
I  am,  &c. 

J.  H.  B. 


The  present  month  can  scarcely  be 
better  closed  than  with  some  exquisite 
stanzas  from  the  delightful  introduction  to 
the  "  Forest  Minstrel  and  other  Poems, 
by  William  and  Mary  Howitt."  Mr.  Howitt 
speaks  of  his  "  lightly  caroll'd  lays,"  as — 

never,  surely,  otherwise  esteem'd 

Than  a  bird  s  song,   that,  fill'd  with  sweet 

amaze 
At  the   bright  opening  of  the  young,  green 

spring, 
Pours  out  its  simple  joy  in  instant  warbling. 

For  never  yet  was  mine  the  proud  intent 

To  give  the  olden  harp  a  thrilling  sound, 
Like  those  great  spirits  who  of  late  have  sent 
Their  wizard  tones  abroad,  and  all  around 
This   wond'rous  world  have  wander'd ;    and 

have  spent, 
In  court  and  camp,  on  bann'd  and   holy 

ground, 

Their  gleaning  glances  ;  and,  in  hall  and  bower, 
Have  learn'd  of  mortal  life  the  passions  and 
the  power : 

Eyeing  the  masters  of  this  busy  earth, 
In  all  the  changes  of  ambition's  toil, 
From  the  first  struggles  of  their  glory's  birth, 
Till  robed  in  power — till  wearied  with  the 

spoil 
Of  slaughter'd  realms,  and  dealing  woe  and 

dearth 

To  miserable  men — and  then  the  foil 
To  this  great  scene,  the  vengeance,  and  the 

frown 

With   which   some  mightier  hand  has  pulfd 
those  troublers  down : 

Eyeing  the  passages  of  gentler  life, 

A  nd  different  persons,  of  far  different  scenes ; 

The  boy,  the  beau — the  damsel,  and  the  wife — 

Life's  lowly  loves — the  loves  of  kings  and 

queens  ; 
Each  thing  that  binds  us,  and  each  thing  that 

weans 
Us  from  this  state,  with  pains  and  pleasures 

rife  ; 
The  wooings,  winnings,  weddings,  and    dis- 

dainings 

Of  changeful  men,  their  fondness  and   their 
feignings : 


And  then  have  brought  us  home  strange sghts 

and  sounds 

From  distant  lands,  of  dark  and  awful  deeds; 

And  fair  and  dreadful  spirits ;  and  gay  rounds 

Of  mirth  and  music;  and   then   mourning 

weeds; 

And  tale  of  hapless  love  that  sweetly  wounds 
The  gentle  heart,   and  its  deep   fondness 

feeds ; 

Lapping  it  up  in  dreams  of  sad  delight 
From  its  own  weary  thoughts,  in  visions  wild 
and  bright : — 

Oh  !  never  yet  to  me  the  power  or  will 

To  match  these  mighty  sorcerers  of  the  soul 

Was  given  ;  but  on  the  bosom,  lone  and  still, 
Of  nature  cast,  I  early  wont  to  stroll 

Through  wood  and  wild,  o'er  forest,  rock,  and 

hill, 
Companionless  ;  without  a  wish  or  goal, 

Save  to  discover  every  shape  and  voice 

Of  living  thing  that  there  did  fearlessly  re- 
joice. 

And  every  day  that  boyish  fancy  grew ; 

And  every  day  those  lonely  scenes  became 
Dearer  and  dearer,  and  with  objects  new, 

All  sweet  and   peaceful,   fed    the    young 

spirit's  flame 
Then  rose  each  silent  woodland  to  the  view, 

A  glorious  theatre  of  joy !  then  came 
Each  sound  a  burst  of  music  on  the  air, 
That  sank  rnto  the  soul  to  live  for  ever  there  ! 

Oh,  days  of  glory  !  when  the  young  soul  drank 
Delicious  wonderment  through  every  sense  I 

And  every  tone  and  tint  of  beauty  sank 

Into  a  heart  that  ask'd  not  how,  or  whence 

Came   the   dear  influence:   from  the  dreary 

blank 
Of  nothingness  sprang  forth  to  an  existence 

Thrilling  and  wond'rous  ;  to  enjoy — enjoy 

The  new  and  gloripus  blessing — was  its  sole 
employ. 

To  roam  aoroad  amidst  the  mists,  and  dews, 
And  brightness  of  the  early  morning  sky, 
When  rose  and  hawthorn  leaves  wore  tenderest 

hues : 

To  watch  the  mother  linnet's  stedfas?  eye, 
Seated  upon  her  nest ;  or  wondering  muse 
On  her  eggs's  spots,  and  bright  and  delicate 

dye; 

To  peep  into  the  magpie  s  thorny  hall, 
Or  wren's  green   cone  in  some  hoar  mossy 
wall; 

To  hear  of  pealing  bells  the  distant  charm, 
As  slow  I  wended  down  some  lonely  dale, 

Past  many  a  bleating  flock,  and  many  a  farm 
And  solitary  hall  ;  and  in  the  vale 

To  meet  of  eager  hinds  a  hurrying  swarrn, 
With  staves  and  terriers  hastening  to  assail 

Polecat,  or  badger,  in  their  secret  dens, 

Or  otter  lurking  in  the  deep  and  reedy  fens 


1279 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— SEPTEMBER  30. 


128C 


To  pass  through  villages,  and  catch  the  hum 

Forth  bursting  from  some  antiquated  school, 
Endow'd   long    since   by   some  old    knight, 

whose  tomb 
Stood  in  the  church  just  by  ;  to  mark  the 

dool 

Of  light-hair'd  lads  that  inly  rued  their  doom, 
Prison'd  in  that  old  place,  that  with  the 

tool, 

Stick-knife  or  nail,  of  many  a  sly  offender, 
Was  carved  and  figured  over,  wall,  and  desk, 
and  window ; 

To  meet  in  green  lanes  happy  infant  bands, 
Full  of  health's  luxury,  sauntering  and  sing- 
ing* 

A  childish,  wordless  melody ;  with  hands 
Cowslips,    and    wind-flowers,    and    green 

brook-lime  bringing ; 
Or  weaving  caps  of  rushes  ;  or  with  wands 

Guiding  their  mimic  teams  ;  or  gaily  swing- 
On  some  low  sweeping  bough,  and  clinging  all 
One  to  the  other  fast,  till,  laughing,  down 
fhey  fail ; 

To  sit  down  by  some  solitary  man, 

Hoary  with  years,  and  with  a  sage's  look, 

In  some  wild  dell  where  purest  waters  ran, 
And  see   him   draw  forth  his  black-letter 
book, 

Wond'ring,  and  wond'ring  more,  as  he  began, 
On  it,  and  then  on  many  an  herb  to  look, 

That  he  had  wander'd  wearily  and  wide, 

To  pluck  from  jutting  rocks,  and  woods,  and 
mountain  side ; 

And  then,  as  he  would  wash  his  healing  roots 
In  the  clear  stream,  that  ever  went  singing 

on, 
Through    banks    o'erhung    with    herbs    and 

flowery  shoots, 

Leaning  as  if  they  loved  its  gentle  tune, 
To  hear  him  tell  of  many  a  plant  that  suits 
Fresh  wound,  or  fever'd-  frame  ;  and  of  the 

moon 

Shedding  o'er  weed  and  wort  her  healing  power 
For  gifted  wights  to  cull  in  her  ascendant  hour ; 

To  lie  abroad  on  nature's  lonely  breast, 
Amidst  the  music  of  a  summer's  sky, 

Where  tall,  dark  pines  the  northern  bank  invest 
Of  a  still  lake  ;  and  see  the  long  pikes  lie 

Basking  upon  the  shallows  ;  with  dark  crest, 
And  threat'ning  pomp,  the  swan  go  sailing  by; 

And  many  a  wild  fowl  on  its  breast  that  shone, 

Flickering  like  liquid  silver,  in  the  joyous  sun  : 

The  duck,  deep  poring  with  his  downward  head, 
Like  a  buoy  floating  on  the  ocean  wave ; 

The  Spanish  goose,  like  drops  of  crystal,  shed 
The  water  o'er  him,  his  rich  plumes  to  lave  ; 

The   beautiful    widgeon,    springing    upward, 

spread 

His   clapping   wings;   the  heron,  stalking 
grave, 

Into  the  stream  ;  the  coot  and  water-hen 

Vanish  into  the  flood,  then,  far  off,  rise  again; 


And  when  warm  summer's  holiday  was  o'er, 
And  the  bright  acorns  patter'd  from  the  trees 

When  fires  were  made,  and  closed  was  ever? 

door , 
And  winds  were  loud,  or  else  a  chilling  breeze 

Came  comfortless,  driving  cold  fogs  before  : 
On  dismal,  shivering  evenings,  such  as  these, 

To  pass  by  cottage  windows,  and  to  see, 

Round  a  bright  hearth,  sweet   faces  shining 
happily ; 

These  were  the  days  of  boyhood  !  Oh  !  such  days 
Shall  never,  never  more  return  again — 

When  the  fresh  heart,  all  witless  of  the  ways, 
The  sickening-,  sordid,  selfish  ways  of  men, 

Danced  in  creation's  pure  and  placid  blaze, 
Making  an  Eden  of  the  loneliest  glen ! 

Darkness  has  follow'd  fast,  and  few  have  b«en 

The  rays  of  sunlight  cast  upon  life's  dreary 
scene. 

For  years  of  lonely  thought,  in  morning-tide 
Of  life,  will  make  a  spirit  all  unfit 

To  brook  of  men  the  waywardness  and  pride ; 
Too  proud  itself  to  woo,  or  to  submit ; 

Scorning,  as  vile,  what  all  adore  beside, 
And  deeming  only  glorious  the  soul  lit 

With  the  pure  flame  of  knowledge,  and  the  eye 

Filled  with  the  gentle  love  of  the  bright  earth 
and  sky. 

Fancy's  spoil'd  child  will  ever  surely  be 
A  thing  of  nothing  in  the  worldly  throng : 

Wrapp'd  up  in  dreams  that  they  can  never  see  j 
Listening  to  fairy  harp,  or  spirit's  song, 

Where  all  to  them  is  stillest  vacancy : 
For  ever  seeking,  as  he  glides  along, 

Some  kindred  heart,  that  feels  as  he  has  felt, 

And  can  read  each  thought  that  with  him  long 
has  dwelt. 

But  place  him  midst  creation ! — let  him  stand 
Where  wave  and  mountain  revel  in  his  sight, 

Then  shall  his  soul  triumphantly  expand, 
With  gathering  power,  and  majesty,   and 
light ! 

The  world  beneath  him  is  the  temple  plann'd 
For  him  to  worship  in ;  and,  pure  and  bright, 

Heaven's  vault  above,  the  proud  eternal  dome 

Of  his  Almighty  Sire,  and  his  own  future  home  I 

With  such  inspiring  fancies,  mortal  pride 

Shrinks  into  nothing ;  and  all  mortal  things 
He  casts,  as  weeds  cast  by  the  ocean  tide, 
From  its  embraces;    the  world's  scorn  he 

flings 
Back  on  itself,  disdaining  to  divide, 

With  its  low  cares,  that  sensitive  spirit  that 

brings 

Home  to  his  breast  all  nature's  light  and  glee, 
Holding  with  sunshine,  clouds,  and  gales,  un- 
earthly revelry. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature ...  54  •  I1 


THE  F.VERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER. 


OCTOBER. 


Then,  for  "  October  Month,"  they  put 
A  rude  illuminated  cut — 
Reaching  ripe  grapes  from  off  the  vine. 
Or  pressing  them,  or  tunning  wine  ; 
Or,  something  to  denote  that  there 
Was  vintage  at. this  time  of  year. 

Wo  nave   "  hopes  and  fears  "  for  the     selves  "  in  infancy    and  throughout  lite 
vear  at  all  seasons,  as  v-re  have  for  our-     After  the  joyousn^ss  of  summer  comes  the 
VOL  II.— &3. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER. 


1234 


reason  of  foreboding,  for  "  the  year  has 
reached  its  grand  climacteric,  and  is  fast 
falling  *  into  the  sere,  the  yellow  leaf.* 
Every   day  a  flower  drops  from  out  the 
wreath  that  binds  its  brow — not  to  be  re- 
newed.     Every  hour  the  sun  looks  more 
and  more  askance  upon  it,  and  the  winds, 
those  summer  flatterers,  come  to  it  less 
fawningly.      Every  breath  shakes  down 
showers   of    its  leafy    attire,    leaving   it 
gradually  barer  and  barer,  for  the  blasts  of 
winter  to  blow  through  it.      Every  morn- 
ing and  evening  takes  away  from  it  a  por- 
tion of  that  light  which  gives  beauty  to  its 
life,  and  chills  it  more  and  more  into  that 
torpor  which  at  length  constitutes  its  tem- 
porary death.  And  yet  October  is  beauti- 
ful still,  no  less  '  for  what  it  gives  than 
what  it  takes  away ;'  and  even  for  what 
it  gives  during   tlie  very  act   of  taking 
away. — The  whole  year  cannot  produce  a 
sight  fraught  with  more  rich  and  harmo- 
nious beauty  than  that  which  the  woods 
and  groves   present  during   this  month, 
notwithstanding,  or  rather  inconsequence 
of,  the  daily  decay  of  their  summer  attire ; 
and  at  no  other  season  can  any  given  spot 
of  landscape  be  seen  to  much  advantage 
as  a  mere  picture. — An  extensive  planta- 
tion of  forest  trees  presents  a  variety  of 
colours  and  of  tints  that  would  scarcely  be 
considered  as  natural  in  a  picture,  any 
more  than  many  of  the  sunsets  of  Sep- 
tember would.    Among  those  trees  which 
retain  their  green  hues,  the  fir  tribe  are  the 
principal ;  and  these,  spiring  up  among 
the  deciduous  ones,  now  differ  from  them 
no  less  in  colour  than  they  do  in  form. 
The  alders,  too,  and  the  poplars,  limes, 
and  horse-chestnuts,  are  still  green, — the 
hues  of  their  leaves  not  undergoing  much 
change  as  long  as   they  remain  on  the 
branches.      Most  of  the  other  forest  trees 
have  put  on  each  its  peculiar  livery ;  the 
planes  and   sycamores   presenting  every 
variety  of  tinge,   from  bright  yellow  to 
brilliant  red ;  the  elms  being,  for  the  most 
part,  of  a  rich  sunny  umber,  varying  ac- 
cording to  the  age  of  the  tree  and   the 
circumstances  of  its  soil,  &c. ;  the  beeches 
Vaving   deepened   into  a  warm  glowing 
Drown,  which  the  young  ones  will  retain 
all  the  winter,  and  till  the  new   spring 
leaves  push  the  present  ones  off;  the  oaks 
varying  from  a  dull  dusky  green  to  a  deep 
russet,  according  to  their  ages ;  and  the 
Spanish  chestnuts,  with  their  noble  em- 
bowering heads,  glowing  like  clouds  of 
fold. — As    for    the  hedge-rows,  though 
they  have  lost  nearly  at'  their  flowers,  the 


various  fruits  that  are  spread  out  upon 
them  for  the  winter  food  of  the  birds, 
make  them  little  less  gay  than  they  were 
in  spring  and  summer.     The  most  con- 
spicuous of  these  are  the  red  hips  of  the 
wild  rose  ;  the  dark  purple  bunches  of  the 
luxuriant  blackberry  ;  the  brilliant  scarlet 
and  green  berries  of  the  nightshade  ;  the 
wintry-looking  fruit  of  the  hawthorn  ;  the 
blue  sloes,  covered  with  their  soft  tempt- 
ing-looking bloom ;  the  dull  bunches  of 
the  woodbine ;  and  the  sparkling  holly- 
berries. — We  may  also  still,  by  seeking 
for   them,   find  a  few  flowers  scattered 
about  beneath  the  hedge-rows,  and  the 
dry  banks  that  skirt  the  woods,  and  even 
in    the   woods    themselves,   peeping  up 
meekly  from  among  the  crowds  of  newly 
fallen  leaves.     The  prettiest  of  these  is 
the  primrose,  which  now  blows  a  second 
time.     But  two  or  three  of  the  persicaria 
tribe  are  still  in  flower,  and  also  some  of 
the  goosefoots.      And    even   the  elegant 
and  fragile  heathbell,  or  harebell,  has  not 
yet  quite  disappeared  ;  while  some  of  the 
ground  flowers  that  have   passed    away 
have  left  in  their  place  strange  evidences 
of  their  late  presence ;  in  particular,  the 
singular  flower  (if  it  can  be  called  one)  of 
the  arums,  or  lords  and  ladies,  has  changed 
into  an  upright  bunch,  or  long  cluster,  of 
red    berries,   starting   up   from    out   the 
ground  on  a  single  stiff  stem,  and  looking 
almost  like  the  flower  of  a  hyacinth. — 
The  open  fields  during  this  month,  though 
they  are  bereaved  of  much  of  their  actual 
beauty  and    variety,  present   sights  that 
are  as  agreeable  to  the  eye,  and  even  more 
stirring   to   the  imagination,   than  those 
which  have  passed  away.     The  husband^" 
man  is  now  ploughing  up  the  arable  land, 
and  putting  into  it  the  seeds  that  are  to 
produce  the  next  year's  crops ;  and  there 
are   not,  among   rural  occupations,  two 
more  pleasant  to  look  upon  than  these  : 
the  latter,  in  particular,  is  one  that,  while 
it  gives  perfect  satisfaction  to  the  eye  as  a 
mere  picture,  awakens  and  fills  the  imag- 
ination with  the  prospective  views  which 
it  opens. — It  is  not  till  this  month  that 
we    usually    experience    the   equinoxial 
gales,  those  fatal  visitations  which  may 
now  be  looked  upon  as  the   immediate 
heralds  of  the  coming  on  of  winter  ;  as  in 
the  spring  they  were  the  sure  signs  of  its 
having  passed  away.      Bitter-sweet  is  it, 
now,  to  lie  awake  at  night,  and  listen 
wilfully  (as  if  we   would   not  let    them 
escape  us)  to  the  fierce  howlings  of  the 
winds,  each  accession  of  which  gives  new 


1285 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  1 . 


1286 


vividness  to  the  vision  of  some  tall  ship, 
illumined  by  every  flash  of  lightning — 
illumined,  but  not  rendered  visible — for 
there  are  no  eyes  within  a  hundred  leagues 
to  look  upon  it;  and  crowded  with  hu- 
man beings — (not '  souls'  only,  as  the  sea- 
phrase  is,  for  then  it  were  pastime — but 
bodies}  every  one  of  which  sees,  in 
imagination,  its  own  grave  a  thousand 
fathom  deep  beneath  the  dark  waters  that 
roar  around,  and  feels  itself  beforehand."* 


THE  WIND. 

The  wind  has  a  language,  I  would  I  could 

learn ! 
Sometimes  'tis  soothing,  and  sometimes  'tis 

stern, 

— Sometimes  it  comes  like  a  low  sweet  song, 
And  all  things  grow  calm,  as  the  sound  floats 

along, 

And  the  forest  is  lulled  by  the  dreamy  strain, 
And  slumber  sinks  down  on  the  wandering 

main, 

And  its  crystal  arms  are  folded  in  rest, 
And  the  tall  ship  sleeps  on  its  heaving  breast. 

Sometimes  when,  autumn  grows  yellow  and 

sere, 

And  the  sad  clouds  weep  for  the  dying  year, 
It  comes  like  a  wizard,  and  mutters  its  spell, 
— I  would  that  the  magical  tones  I  might 

tell— 
And  it  beckons  the  leaves  with  its  viewless 

hand, 

And  they  leap  from  their  branches  at  its  com- 
mand, 

And  follow  its  footsteps  with  wheeling  feet, 
Like  fairies  that  dance  in  the  moonlight  sweet. 

Sometimes  it  comes  in  the  wintry  night, 
And  I  hear  the  flap  of  its  pinions  of  might, 
And  I  see  the  flash  of  its  withering  eye, 
As  it  looks  from  the  thunder-cloud  sailing  on 

high, 

And  pauses  to  gather  its  fearful  breath, 
And  lifts  up  its  voice  like  the  angel  of  death — 
And  the  billows  leap  up  when  the  summons 

they  hear 
And  the  ship  flies  away,  as  if  winged  with 

fear, 
And  the  uncouth  creatures  that  dwell  in  the 

deep, 

Start  up  at  the  sound  from  their  floating  sleep, 
And  career  through  the   water,   like   clouds 

through  the  night, 

To  share  in  the  tumult  their  joy  and  delight, 
And  when  the  moon  rises,  the  ship  is  no 

more, 
*ts  joys  and  its  sorrows  are  vanish 'd  and  o'er, 


•  Mirror  of  the  Months. 


And  the  fierce  storm  that  Jlew  it  has  failed 

away, 
Like  the  dark  dream  that  flies  from  the  light 

of  the  day. 

The  Improviia  trice. 


1. 


LAWLESS  COURT. 

This  is  the  season  of  holding  a  remark- 
able court,  which  we  are  pleasantly  intro- 
duced to  by  the  relation  of  a  good  old 
writer.* 

"  Ryding  from  Ralegh  towards  Roch- 
ford,  I  happened  to  haue  the  good  com- 
panie  of  a  gentleman  of  this  countrey, 
who,  by  the  way,  shewed  me  a  little  hill, 
which  he  called  the  Kings  Hill;  and  told 
me  of  a  strange  customarie  court,  and  of 
long  continuance,  there  yearely  kept,  the 
next  Wednesday  after  Michaelmas  day 
in  the  night,  upon  the  first  cock  crowing 
without  any  kinde  of  light,  saue  such  as 
the  heavens  will  affoard  :  The  steward  of 
the  court  writes  onely  with  coales,  and 
calleth  all  such  as  are  bound  to  appeare, 
with  as  low  a  voice  as  possiblie  he  may, 
gluing  no  notice  when  he  goeth  to  execute 
his  office.  Howsoever,  he  that  gives  not 
answer  is  deeply  amerced  ;  which  servile 
attendance  (saith  he)  was  imposed  at  the 
first  ypon  certaine  tenants  of  divers  man- 
ners hereabouts,  for  conspiring  in  this 
place,  at  such  an  vnseasonable  time,  to 
raise  a  commotion.  The  title  of  the  en- 
trie  of  the  court  hee  had  in  memory,  and 
writ  it  downe  for  me  when  we  came  to 
Rochford."  Fuller  speaks  of  its  running 
"  in  obscure  barbarous  rimes,"  which  he 
inserts  nearly  in  the  words  of  the  legal 
authorities  who  give  the  following  ac- 
count :  — 

"  Hafol*£tt  Court.  On  Kingston  at 
Rochford  in  Essex,  on  Wednesday  morn- 
ing next,  after  Michaelmas  day,  at  Cocks- 
crowing,  Is  held  a  Court,  vulgarly  called 
'  The  Lawless  Court'  They  whisper 
and  have  no  Candle,  nor  any  Pen  and  Ink 
but  a  Coal  ;  and  he  that  ows  Suit  or  Ser- 
vice, and  appears  not,  forfeits  double  his 
rent  every  hour  he  is  missing.  This 
Court  belongs  to  the  Honor  of  Ralegh, 
and  to  the  Earl  of  ffarivick;  and  is 
called  l  Lawless,'  because  held  at  an  un- 
lawful or  lawless  hour,  or  Quia  dicta  sine 
lege.  The  Title  of  it  in  the  Court  Rolls, 
runs  thus,  — 

*  Fuller. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  1. 


1288 


Kingshi  an")       /^1  Vria  de Domino  Rege, 
Rochford.   J     '\^s     Dicta  sine  Lege. 

Tenta  est  ibidem 

Per  ejusdem  consuetudinem, 

Ante  ortum  solis, 

Luceat  nisi  polus, 

Senescallns  solus 

Nil  scribit  nisi  colis, 

Toties  voluerit, 

Gallus  ut  cantaverit, 

Per  cujns  soli  sonitus, 

Curia  est  summonita, 

Clamat  clam  pro  Rege, 

In  Curia  sine  Lege, 

Et  nisi  cito  venerint, 

Citiits  pcenituerint, 

Et  nisi  clam  accedantr 

Curia  non  attendat, 

Qui  venerit  cum  luminc, 

Errnt  in  regimine : 

Et  dum  snnt  sine  luminc, 

Capti  sunt  in  crimine  : 

Curia  sine  euro, 

Jurati  de  injuria, 

Tenta  ibidem  die  Mercurii  (anto  Diem) 
proximi  post  Festum  Sancti  Mi- 
chaelis  Arch-angeli,  Anno  regni 
Regis,"  fyc. 

This  Court  is  mentioned  in  Cam.  Britan, 
though  imperfectly ;  who  says  this  servile 
attendance  was  imposed  on  the  Tenants, 
for  conspiring  at  the  like  unseasonable 
time  to  raise  a  Commotion.* 


ORDER  OF  FOOLS. 

We  are  already  acquainted  with  so 
many  whimsies  of  our  forefathers,  that  any 
thing  related  of  their  doings  ceases  to 
surprise;  we  might  otherwise  be  asto- 
nished by  the  fact,  that  Folly  had  an 
order  of  merit,  and  held  its  great  court 
every  year  on  the  first  Sunday  after  Mi- 
chaelmas-day. 

An  inquiring  antiquaiy  gives  some 
particulars  of  this  institution,  with  a 
translation  of  the  document  for  its  foun- 
dation, which  is  preserved  in  Von  Bug- 
genhagen's  "  Account  of  the  Roman  and 
National  Antiquities"  discovered  at  Cleves. 
He  relates  of  it  as  follows  :— 

To  this  document  are  affixed  thirty -six 
seals,  all  imprinted  on  green  wax,  with 
the  exception  of  that  of  the  founder,  which 
is  on  red  wax,  and  in  the  centre  of  the 
rest ;  having  on  its  right  the  seal  of  the 
count  de  Meurs,  and  on  its  left  that  of 

«'  Towel.    Blount. 


Diedrich  van  Eyl.  The  insignium  borne 
by  the  knights  of  this  order  on  the  left 
side  of  their  mantles  consisted  of  a  fool 
embroidered  in  a  red  and  silver  vest,  with 
a  cap  on  his  head,  intersected  barlequin- 
wise  with  red  and  yellow  divisions,  and 
gold  bells  attached,  with  yellow  stockings 
and  black  shoes ;  in  his  right  hand  was  a 
cup  filled  with  fruits,  and  in  his  left  a 
gold  key,  symbolic  of  the  affection  sub- 
sisting between  the  different  members. 

Tt  is  uncertain  when  this  order  ceased, 
althoughit  appears  to  have  been  in  existence 
at  the  commencement  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  when,  however,  its  pristine  spirit 
had  become  totally  extinct.  The  latest 
mention  that  has  hitherto  been  found  of 
it  occurs  in  some  verses  prefixed  by  Ono- 
frius  Brand  to  the  German  translation  of 
his  father  Sebastian  Brand's  celebrated 
"  Navis  Stultifera  Mortalium"  by  the 
learned  Dr.  Geiler  von  Kaisersberg, 
which  was  published  at  Strasburg  in  the 
year  1520. 

Two-told  was  the  purpose  of  the  noble 
founders  of  this  order ;  to  relieve  the  wants 
and  alleviate  the  miseries  of  their  suffering 
fellow-creatures ;  and  to  banish  ennui  dur- 
ing the  numerous  festivals  observed  in 
those  ages,  when  the  unceasing  routine 
of  disports  and  recreations,  which  modern 
refinement  has  invented  in  the  present, 
were  unknown.  During  the  period  of  its 
meeting,  which  took  place  annually,  and 
lasted  seven  days,  all  distinctions  of  rank 
were  laid  aside,  and  the  most  cordial 
equality  reigned  throughout.  Each  had 
his  particular  part  allotted  to  him  on  those 
occasions,  and  those  who  supported  their 
characters  in  the  ablest  manner,  contri- 
buted most  to  the  conviviality  and  gaiety 
of  the  meeting.  Indeed  we  cannot  but 
be  strongly  prepossessed  in  its  favour, 
when  we  recur  to  the  excellent  regulations 
which  accompanied  its  institution,  and 
were  admirably  calculated  to  preserve  it, 
at  least  for  a  great  length  of  time,  from 
degenerating  into  absurdity  and  extra- 
vagance. 

We  must  not  confound  this  laudable 
establishment  with  the  vulgar  and  absurd 
practices  which,  till  of  late  years,  existed 
in  many  places  under  the  names  of  feasts 
of  fools  and  of  the  ass,  &c.  These  were 
only  national  festivals,  intended  for  the 
occasional  diversion,  or,  as  in  those  days 
they  were  termed,  rites  to  promote  the 
pious  edification  of  the  lower  classes, 
which,  "  no.  unfrequently  introduced  by 
a  superstition  of  the  lowest  and  i»,ost  illi- 


1283 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBEK  1. 


beral  species,"  soon  became  objects  of 
depravity  and  unbridled  licentiousness. 
Of  a  totally  different  nature  also,  and 
analagous  only  in  quaintness  of  appella- 
tion, were  the  societies  established  by 
men  of  letters  in  various  parts  of  Italy, 
such  as  the  society  of  the  "  Insensate," 
at  Perugia,  of  the  "  Stravaganti,"  at  Pisa, 
and  the  "  Eteroclyti,"  at  Pesaro.  Nor 
can  I  allow  myself  to  pass  over  in  silence 
on  the  present  occasion  the  order  or 
society  of  Fools,  otherwise  denominated 
"  Respublica  Binepsis,"  which  was 
founded  towards  the  middle  of  the  four- 
teenth century  by  some  Polish  noblemen, 
and  took  its  name  from  the  estate  of  one 
Psomka,  the  principal  instigator,  near 
Leublin.  Its  form  was  modelled  after 
that  of  the  constitution  of  Poland  ;  like 
this,  too,  it  had  its  king,  its  council,  its 
chamberlain,  its  master  of  the  hunt,  and 
various  other  offices.  Whoever  made 
himself  ridiculous  by  any  singular  and 
foolish  propensity,  on  him  was  conferred 
an  appointment  befitting  it.  Thus  he, 
who  carried  his  partiality  to  the  canine 
species  to  a  ridiculous  extreme,  was  cre- 
ated master  of  the  hunt ;  whilst  another, 
who  constantly  boasted  of  his  valorous 
achievements,  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of 
field  marshal.  No  one  dared  to  refuse 
the  acceptance  of  such  a  vocation,  unless 
he  wished  to  become  a  still  greater  object 
of  ridicule  and  animadversion  than  before. 
This  order  soon  experienced  so  rapid  an 
increase  of  numbers  that  there  were  few 
at  court  who  were  not  members  of  it.  At 
the  same  time  it  was  expressly  forbidden 
that  any  lampooner  should  be  introduced 
amongst  them.  The  avowed  object  of 
this  institution  was  to  prevent  the  rising 
generation  from  the  adoption  of  bad  habits 
and  licentious  manners ;  and  ridiculous 
as  was  its  outward  form,  is  not  its  design 
at  least  entitled  to  our  esteem  and  vene- 
ration ? 

Patent  of  Creation  of  the  Order  of  Fools. 

"  We  all,  who  have  hereunto  affixed  our 
seals,  make  known  unto  all  men,  and  de- 
clare, that  after  full  and  mature  consider- 
ation, both  on  our  own  behalf  and  on 
account  of  the  singular  goodwill  and 
friendship  which  we  all  bear,  and  will 
continue  to  bear  towards  one  another,  we 
have  instituted  a  society  of  fools,  accord- 
jng  to  the  form  and  manner  hereunto 
subjoined : — 

**  Be  it  therefore  known,  that  each  mem- 
oer  shall  wear  a  fool,  either  made  of  silver, 


or  embroidered,  on  his  coat.  And  such 
member  as  shall  not  daily  wear  this  fool, 
him  shall  and  may  any  one  of  us,  as  often 
as  he  shall  see  it,  punish  with  a  mulct  of 
three  old  great  tournois,  (livres  tournois, 
about  four-pence  halfpenny,)  which  three 
tournois  shall  be  appropriated  to  the 
Belief  of  the  poor  in  the  Lord ! 

"  Further,  will  we  fools  yearly  meet,  and 
hold  a  conventicle  and  court,  and  assem- 
ble ourselves,  to  wit  at  Cleves,  every  year 
on  the  Sunday  after  Michaelmas-day ; 
and  no  one  of  us  shall  depart  out  of  the 
city,  nor  mount  his  horse  to  quit  the 
place  where  we  may  be  met  together, 
without  previous  notice,  and  his  having 
defrayed  that  part  of  the  expenses  of  the 
court  which  he  is  bourid  to  bear.  And 
none  of  us  shall  remain  away  on  any  pre- 
tence or  for  any  other  reason  whatsoever 
than  this,  namely,  that  he  is  labouring 
under  very  great  infirmity ;  excepting 
moreover  those  only  who  may  be  in  a 
foreign  country,  and  at  six  days'  journey 
from  their  customary  place  of  residence. 
If  it  should  happen  that  any  one  of  the 
society  is  at  enmity  with  another,  then 
must  the  whole  society  use  their  utmost 
endeavours  to  adjust  their  differences  and 
reconcile  them ;  and  such  members  and 
all  their  abettors  shall  be  excluded  from 
appearing  at  the  court  on  the  Friday 
morning  when  it  commences  its  sitting  at 
sun-rise,  until  it  breaks  up  on  the  same 
Friday  at  sun-set. 

"And,  we  will  further,  at  the  royal  court 
yearly  elect  one  of  the  members  to  be 
king  of  our  society,  and  six  to  be  coun- 
sellors ;  which  king  with  his  six  counsel- 
lors shall  regulate  and  setHe  all  the  con- 
cerns of  the  society,  and  in  particular 
appoint  and  fix  the  court  of  the  ensuing 
year ;  they  shall  also  procure,  and  cause 
to  be  procured,  all  things  necessary  for 
the  said  court,  of  which  they  shall  keep 
an  exact  account.  These  expenses  shall 
be  alike  both  to  knights  and  squires,  and 
a  third  part  more  shall  fall  upon  the  lords 
than  upon  the  knights  and  squires ;  but 
the  counts  shall  be  subject  to  a  third  part 
more  than  the  lords. 

"  And  early  on  the  Tuesday  morning 
(during  the  period  of  the  court's  sitting) 
all  of  us  members  shall  go  to  the  church 
of  the  Holy  Virgin  at  Cleves,  to  pray  for 
the  repose  of  all  those  of  the  society  who 
may  have  died ;  and  there  shall  each 
bring  his  separate  offering. 

'•  And- each  of  us  has  mutually  pledged 
his  good  faith,  and  solemnly  engaged  to 


1291 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  1. 


fulfil  faithfully,  undeviatinjly,  and  invio- 
lably, all  things  which  are  above  enume- 
rated, &c. 

"  Done  at  Cleves,  1381,  on  the  day  of 
St.  Cunibert." 

H.  W.  S  * 


STAGE  ACCIDENT. 

On  (he  evening  of  Friday  the  1st  of 
October,  1736,  during  the  performance  of 
an  entertainment  called  Dr.  Faustus,  at 
Co  vent-garden  theatre,  one  James  Todd 
•who  represented  the  miller's  man,  fell 
from  the  upper  stage,  in  a  flying  machine, 
by  the  breaking  of  the  wires.  He  frac- 
tured his  scull,  and  died  miserably ;  three 
others  were  much  hurt,  but  recovered. 
Some  of  the  audience  swooned,  and  the 
whole  were  in  great  confusion  upon  this 
sad  accident. f 


MOUNTEBANKS  AND  MR.  MERRIMAN. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Little  inferior  to  Mr.  Punch,  Mr.  Mer- 
riman  has  stood  eminently  high  at  fairs, 
figured  in  market-places,  and  scarcely  a 
village  green  in  England,  that  has  not  felt 
the  force  of  his  irresistible  appeals.  He 
does  not  often  approach  the  over-grown 
metropol-is;  his  success  here  is  less  cer- 
tain, and  the  few  patrons  that  remain, 
love  to  feast  their  eyes  and  risible  faculties 
without  sparing  a  modicum  from  their 
pockets  :  the  droll  simpleton  might  crack 
his  jokes  without  finding  the  kernel — 
cash. 

A  company  of  mountebanks,  however, 
appeared  on  a  green,,  north  of  White  Con- 
duit-house, several  evenings  last  week. 
On  Saturday  the  performance  commenced 
at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  per- 
formers consisted  of  the  master,  a  short, 
middle  aged  person,with  a  florid  complex- 
ion, dressed  in  decent  half  mourning.  He 
possessed  a  sound  pair  of  lungs,  fair  elo- 
quence, and  a  good  portion  of  colloquial 
ability.  By  the  assistance  of  a  little  whip 
he  kept  in  order  a  large  ring,  formed  of 
boys,  girls,  and  grown  persons  of  both 
sexes.  His  eye,  gray  as  a  falcon's, 
watched  the  reception  he  received,  and 
seemed  to  communicate  with  his  "  mind's 
eye,"  as  to  his  subscribers.  The  rosy- 
faced  maid  servants,  glad  of  the  oppor- 
tunity of  gazing  at  the  exhibitors,  were 
rejoiced  by  the  pretence  of  holding  the 

*  From  Dr.  Aikin  s  Athenaeum. 
1  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


•'  nursery  treasures"  to  see  all  that  could 
be  seen.  Here  the  calculator  looked  for 
patronage  and  encouragement.  "  Mr.Mer- 
rirhan,"  a  young  man  with  his  face  and 
clothes  duly  coloured,  a  la  Gnmaldi, 
raised  laughter  by  his  quaint  retorts,  by 
attempts  at  tumbling  to  prove  he  could 
tumble  well,  and  by  drilling  with  a  bugle- 
horn  a  dozen  volunteer  boys  in  many 
whimsical  exercises,  truly  marvellous  to 
simpering  misses  and  their  companions. 
The  next  performer  was  a  short  man  with 
sharp  features,  sunburnt  face,  and  shrill 
goat-like  voice  : — he  tumbled  in  a  clever, 
but,  I  think,  dangerous  manner.  Then 
Mr.  Merriman's  "  imitations"  followed  ; 
not  to  say  any  thing  of  those  inimitable 
imitators,  Mathews,  Reeve,  and  Yates, 
he  suited  his  audience  to  the  very  echo  of 
the  surrounding  skeletons  in  brick  and 
mortar.  The  tumbler  then  reposed  by 
putting  a  loose  coat  over  his  party- 
coloured  habit,  and  playing  a  pandenn- 
pipe  while  "  Mr.  Merriman  "  sat  on  a 
piece  of  carpet  spread  on  the  ground,  and 
tossed  four  gilt  balls  in  the  air  at  the  same 
time,  to  the  variations  of  the  music.  A 
drum  was  beat  by  a  woman  about  forty, 
with  a  tiara  on  her  head,  who  afterwards 
left  the  beating  art  and  mounting  the 
slack-wire,  which  was  supported  by  three 
sticks,  coned  at  each  end  to  a  triangle  ; 
she  danced  and  vaulted  a  la  Gouffe.  A 
table  was  put  on  the  wire,  which  she 
balanced,  and  bore  a  glass  full  of  liquor 
on  the  rim  as  she  twirled  it  on  her  finger. 
This  was  the  acme  of  the  display.  Tic- 
kets at  one  shilling  each  were  now  handed 
round  with  earnestness  and  much  promise, 
for  a  lottery  of  prizes,  consisting  of  tea- 
pots, waiters,  printed  calico,  and  two 
sovereigns  thrown  on  the  grass  instead  of 
a  sheep.  These  temptations  held  out  to 
many  a  Saturday  night  labourer  the 
hope  of  increasing  his  week's  wages. 
The  "  conductor "  of  his  company  no 
doubt  profited  by  the  experience  of 
which  he  was  possessed.  Many  tickets 
were  sold;  expectation  breathed — fancy- 
pictured  a  teapot — or  some  token  of  for- 
tune's performance.  The  decision  made, 
the  die  cast,  now  the  laughing  winner 
walked  hurriedly  away,  hugging  his  prize, 
while  the  losers  hid  their  chagrin,  and 
were  quietly  dispersed  by  the  "  blank"  in- 
fluence, with  secret  wishes  that  their 
money  was  in  their  pockets  again. 

When  I  reflect  upon  this  kind  of  amuse- 
ment for  the  labouring  classes,  I  see 
nothing  to  prevent  its  occasional  appear* 


1293 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. -OCTOBER  2,  3. 


1294 


ance.  The  wit  scattered  about,  though 
in  a  blundering  way,  is  often  smart. 

In  spite  of  decorum,  of  my  better  in- 
struction in  gentility,  and  Chesterfield's 
axioms,  I  love  to  stand  and  shake  my 
human  system,  if  it  be  only  to  remind  me 
of  past  observation,  and  to  see  the  child- 
ren so  happy,  who  ring  out  music,  in 
every  responsive  applause  of  the  tricks  so 
plausibly  represented  to  their  view.  While 
"  Mr.  Merriman"  does  not  invade  the 
peace  of  society,  I  hope  he  will  be  allowed 
his  precarious  reign,  as  he  promised  "  that 
he  would  forfeit  fifty  guineas  if  he  came 
into  the  parish  again  at  least  for  a  twelve- 
month." 

It  is  within  my  remembrance  when 
former  mountebanks  distributed  packets 
instead  of  blanks,  containing  nostrums 
against  toothache,  corns,  bunions,  warts, 
witchcraft  and  the  ague.  Doctor  Bolus 
strutted  and  fretted  his  hour  upon  tfi'e 
stage,  and  gave  as  much  wit  for  sixpence 
as  kept  the  village  alehouse  in  a  roar  for 
many  weeks.  But,  I  suppose,  the  mounte- 
bank profession,  like  every  other,  feels 
the  changes  of  the  times,  and  retrench- 
ment cries, — 

"  Ubi  vos  requiram,  cum  dies  advenerit?" 

*,  *,  P- 
September  29,  1826. 

Please  to  make  the  following  correc- 
tion, page  1270  ;  for  "  he  shaking,"  read 
"  the  shaking." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  52  •  85. 


©ctofor  2. 

EXTRAORDINARY  WALKING. 

October  2,  1751,  a  man,  for  a  wager  of 
twenty  guineas,  walked  from  Shored  itch 
church,  to  the  twenty  mile  stone  near 
Ware,  and  back  again,  in  seven  hours  I* 

EXTRAORDINARY  RIDING. 
In  October,  1754,  lord  Powerscourt 
having  laid  a  wager  with  the  duke  of  Or- 
le  ans,  that  he  would  ride  on  his  own  horses 
from  Fountainbleau  to  Paris,  which  is 
forty-two  English  miles,  in  two  hours,  for 
one  thousand  louis  d'ors,  the  king's  guards 
cleared  the  way,  which  was  lined  with 
crowds  of  Parisians.  He  was  to  mount 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


only  three  horses,  but  he  performed  the 
task  on  two,  in  one  hour,  thirty-seven 
minutes,  and  twenty-two  seconds.  The 
horses  through  whom  the  wager  was  won, 
were  both  killed  by  the  severity  of  the 
feat* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  53  •  75. 


EXTRAORDINARY  HORSE. 

On  the  3d  of  October,  1  737,  a  cart- 
gelding  belonging  to  Mr.  Richard  Fendall, 
of  the  Grange,  Southwark,  died  by  an 
accidental  cut  in  his  knee  with  a  garden- 
mellon  bell-glass  ;  which  is  taken  notice 
of,  because  this  gelding  was  forty-four 
years  in  his  possession.  It  was  bought 
Michaelmas,  1693,  at  Uxbridge,  was 
never  sick  nor  lame  all  the  time,  and 
within  the  fifteen  years  preceding,  drew 
his  owner  and  another  in  a  chaise,  fifty 
miles  in  one  day.f 

BIRDS  AND  MISTS. 

It  is  observed  that  —  "  Among  the  mis- 
cellaneous events  of  October,  one  of  the 
most  striking  and  curious  is  the  intei- 
change  which  seems  to  take  place  between 
our  country,  and  the  more  northern  as 
well  as  the  more  southern  ones,  in  regard 
to  the  birds.  The  swallow  tribe  now  all 
quit  us  :  the  swift  disappeared  wholly, 
more  than  a  month  ago  ;  and  now  the 
house  swallow,  house  martin,  and  bank 
or  sand  martin,  after  congregating  for 
awhile  in  vast  flocks  about  the  banks  of 
rivers  and  other  waters,  are  seen  no  more 
as  general  frequenters  of  the  air.  If 
one  or  two  are  seen  during  the  warm 
days  that  sometimes  occur  fcr  the  next 
two  or  three  weeks,  they  are  to  be  looked 
upon  as  strangers  and  wanderers  ;  and 
the  sight  of  them,  which  has  hitherto  been 
so  pleasant,  becomes  altogether  different 
in  its  effect  :  it  gives  one  a  feeling  of  de- 
solateness,  such  as  we  experience  on 
meeting  a  poor  shivering  lascar  in  our 
winter  streets.  —  In  exchange  for  this  tribe 
of  truly  summer  visiters,  we  have  now 
great  flocks  of  the  fieldfares  and  redwings 
come  back  to  us  ;  and  also  wood  pigeons, 
snipes,  woodcocks,  and  several  of  the 
numerous  tribe  of  water-fowl. 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 
tlbid 


1295 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  3. 


1*290 


'*  Now,  occasionally,  we  may  observe 
the  singular  effects  of  a  mist,  corning  gra- 
dually on,  and  wrapping  in  its  dusky 
cloak  a  whole  landscape  that  was,  the 
moment  before,  clear  and  bright  as  in  a 
spring  morning.  The  vapour  rises  visibly 
(from  the  face  of  a  distant  river  perhaps) 
like  steam  from  a  boiling  caldron ;  and 
climbing  up  into  the  blue  air  as  it  ad- 
vances, rolls  wreath  over  wreath  till  it 
reaches  the  spot  on  which  you  are  stand- 
ing ;  and  then,  seeming  to  hurry  past  you, 
its  edges,  which  have  hitherto  been  dis- 
tinctly denned,  become  no  longer  visible, 
and  the  whole  scene  of  beauty,  which  a 
few  moments  before  surrounded  you,  is 
as  it  were  wrapt  from  your  sight  like  an 
unreal  vision  of  the  air,  and  you  seem 
(and  in  fact  are)  transferred  into  the 
bosom  of  a  cloud."* 


SWALLOWS. 

A  provincial  paperf  says,  "  It  is  a  fact, 
which  has  not  been  satisfactorily  ac- 
counted for  by  ornithologists,  that  the 
number  of  swallows  which  visit  this  island 
are  not  near  so  numerous  as  they  formerly 
were ;  and  this  is  the  case,  not  only  in 
this  neighbourhood,  but  throughout  the 
country.  The  little  that  is  satisfactorily 
known  concerning  the  parts  to  which 
they  emigrate,  and  the  many  statements 
respecting  their  anuual  migration,  not 
only  serves  to  show  that  something  re- 
mains to  be  discovered  respecting  these 
interesting  visiters,  but  perhaps  prevents 
us  from  ascertaining  the  causes  of  the  de- 
crease in  their  numbers.  In  the  month 
of  September,  1815,  great  numbers  of 
these  birds  congregated  near  Rotherham, 
previous  to  their  departure  for  a  more 
genial  climate.  Their  appearance  was 
very  extraordinary,  and  attracted  much 
attention.  We  extract  some  account  of 
this  vast  assemblage  of  the  feathered  race, 
from  an  elegantly  written  little  work, 
published  on  the  occasion,  by  the  rev. 
Thomas  Blackley,  vicar  of  Rotherham, 
containing  '  Observations  and  Reflections' 
on  this  circumstance  : — 

"  «  Early  in  the  month  of  September, 
1815,  that  beautiful  and  social  tribe  of 
the  feathered  race  began  to  assemble  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Rotherham,  at  the 
Willow-ground,  near  the  Glass-house,  ore- 
paratory  to  their  migration  to  a  a  warmer 
climate;  and  their  numbers  were  daily 

•  Mirror  ol  the  Months. 
t  Sheffield  Mercury. 


augmented,  until  they  became  a  vast  flock 
which  no  man  could  easily  number — thou- 
sands upon  thousands,  tens  of  thousands, 
and  myriads — so  great,  indeed,  that  the 
spectator  would  almost  have  concluded 
that  the  whole  of  the  swallow  race  were 
there  collected  in  one  huge  host.  It  was 
their  manner,  while  there,  to  rise  from 
the  willows  in  the  morning,  a  little  before 
six  o'clock,  when  their  thick  columns 
literally  darkened  the  sky.  Their  divi- 
sions were  formed  into  four,  five,  and 
sometimes  six  grand  wings,  each  of  these 
filing  off  and  taking  a  different  route — 
one  east,  another  west,  another  south,  and 
so  on ;  as  if  not  only  to  be  equally  dis- 
peised  throughout  the  country,  to  provide 
food  for  their  numerous  troops ;  but  also 
to  collect  with  them  whatever  of  their 
fellows,  or  straggling  parties,  might  be 
still  left  behind.  Just  before  the  respect- 
iv%  columns  arose,  a  few  birds  might  be 
observed  first  in  motion  at  different  points, 
darting  through  their  massy  ranks — these 
appeared  like  officers  giving  the  word  of 
command.  In  the  evening,  about  five 
o'clock,  they  began  to  return  to  their  sta- 
tion, and  continued  coming  in,  from  all 
quarters,  until  nearly  dark.  It  was  here 
that  you  might  see  them  go  through  their 
various  aerial  evolutions,  in  many  a  sport- 
ive ring  and  airy  gambol — strengthening 
their  pinions  in  these  playful  feats  for 
their  long  etherial  journey;  while  con- 
tentment and  cheerfulness  reigned  in 
every  breast,  and  was  expressed  in  their 
evening  song  by  a  thousand  pleasing- 
twitters  from  their  little  throats,  as  they 
cut  the  air  and  frolicked  in  the  last  beams 
of  the  setting  sun,  or  lightly  skimmed  the 
surface  of  the  glassy  pool.  The  notes  of 
those  that  had  already  gained  the  willows 
sounded  like  the  murmur  of  a  distant  wa- 
terfall, or  the  dying  roar  of  the  retreating 
billow  on  the  sea  beach. 

"  'The  verdant  enamel  of  summer  had 
already  given  place  to  the  warm  and  mel- 
low tints  of  autumn,  and  the  leaves  were 
now  fast  falling-  from  their  branches, 
while  the  naked  tops  of  many  of  the  trees 
appeared — the  golden  sheaves  were  safely 
lodged  in  the  barns,  and  the  reapers  had, 
for  this  year,  shouted  their  harvest  home 
— frosty  and  misty  mornings  now  suc- 
ceeded, the  certain  presages  of  the  ap- 
proach of  winter.  These  omens  were 
understood  by  the  swallows  as  the  route 
for  their  march ;  accordingly,  on  the 
morning  of  the  7th  of  October,  their 
mighty  army  broke  up  their  encampment 


129' 


Till:  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  4,  *,- 


1298 


debouched  from  their  retreat,  and,  rising, 
covered  the  heavens  with  their  legions ; 
thence,  directed  by  an  unerring  guide, 
they  took  their  trackless  way.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  their  going,  when  they  ascended 
from  their  temporary  abode,  they  did  not, 
as  they  had  been  wont  to  do,  divide  into 
different  columns,  and  take  each  a  differ- 
ent route,  but  went  off  in  one  vast  body, 
bearing  to  the  south.  It  is  said  that  they 
would  have  gone  sooner,  but  for  a  con- 
trary wind  which  had  some  time  pre- 
vailed ;  that  on  the  day  before  they  took 
their  departure,  the  wind  got  round,  and 
the  favourable  breeze  was  immediately 
embraced  by  them.  On  the  day  of  their 
flight,  they  left  behind  them  about  a  hun- 
dred of  their  companions ;  whether  they 
were  slumberers  in  the  camp,  and  so 
had  missed  the  going-  of  their  troops,  or 
whether  they  were  left  as  the  rear-guard, 
it  is  not  easy  to  ascertain  ;  they  remained, 
however,  till  the  next  morning,  when  the 
greater  part  of  them  mounted  on  their 
pinions,  to  follow,  as  it  should  seem,  the 
celestial  route  of  their  departed  legions. 
After  these  a  few  stragglers  only  re- 
mained ;  these  might  be  too  sick  or  too 
young-  to  attempt  so  great  an  expedition  ; 
whether  this  was  the  fact  or  not,  they  did 
not  remain  after  the  next  day.  If  they 
did  not  follow  their  army,  yet  the  dreary 
appearance  of  their  depopulated  camp 
and  their  affection  for  their  kindred,  might 
influence  them  to  attempt  it,  or  to  explore 
a  warmer  and  safer  retreat.'  " 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR 

Mean  Temperature  ....  50  •  00. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  4th  of  October,  1749,*  died  at 
Paris,  John  Baptist  Du  Halde,  a  Jesuit, 
who  was  secretary  to  father  Le  Tellier, 
confessor  to  Louis  XIV.  Du  Halde  is 
celebrated  for  having  compiled  an  elabo- 
rate history  and  geography  of  China  from 
the  accounts  of  the  Romish  missionaries 
in  that  empire  ;  he  was  likewise  editor  of  the 
'*  Lettres  edifiantes  et  curieuses,"  from 
the  ninth  to  the  twenty-sixth  collection, 
and  the  author  of  several  Latin  poems 
and  miscellaneous  pieces.  He  was  born 
in  the  city  wherein  he  died,  in  1674,  re- 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


markable  for  piety,  mildness,  ana  patient 
industry.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  54  •  92. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  55  •  12. 


6. 


ST.  FAITH. 

Of  this  saint  in  the  church  of  England 
calendar,  there  is  an  account  in  vol.  i. 
col.  1362. 


SOMNAMBULISM. 

On  Sunday  evening,  vne  6th  of  October, 
1823,  a  lad  named  George  Davis,  sixteen 
and  a  half  years  of  age,  in  the  service  of 
Mr.  Hewson,  butcher,  of  Bridge-road, 
Lambeth,  at  about  twenty  minutes  after 
nine  o'clock,  bent  forward  in  his  chair, 
and  rested  his  forehead  on  his  hands.  In 
ten  minutes  he  started  up,  fetched  his 
whip,  put  on  his  one  spur,  and  went 
thence  to  the  stable ;  not  finding  his  own 
saddle  in  tha  proper  place,  he  returned  to 
the  house,  and  asked  for  it.  Being  asked 
what  he  wanted  with  it,  he  replied,  to  go 
his  rounds.  He  returned  to  the  stable, 
got  on  the  horse  without  the  saddle,  and 
was  proceeding  to  leave  the  stable  ;  it  was 
with  much  difficulty  and  force  that  Mr.  / 
Hewson  junior,  assisted  by  the  other  lad, 
could  remove  him  from  the  horse;  his 
strength  was  great,  and  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty he  was  brought  in  doors.  Mr.  Hew- 
son senior,  coming  home  at  this  time,  sent 
for  Mr.  Benjamin  Ridge,  an  eminent 
practitioner,  in  Bridge-road,  who  stood  by 
him  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  during 
which  time  the  lad  considered  himself 
stopped  at  the  turnpike  gate,  and  took 
sixpence  out  of  his  pocket  to  be  changed  ; 
and  holding  out  his  hand  for  the  change, 
the  sixpence  was  returned  to  him.  He 
immediately  observed,  "  None  of  your 
nonsense — that  is  the  sixpence  again,  give 
me  my  change."  When  threepence  half- 
penny was  given  to  him,  he  counted  it 
overhand  said,  "None  of  your  gammon; 
that  is  not  right,  I  want  a  penny  more ;" 

*  A  General  Biographical  Dictionary,  (Hunt  and 
Clarke,)  vol.  ii. 


1299 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  6. 


1300 


making  the  fourpence  halfpenny,  which 
was  his  proper  change.  He  then  said, 
"  give  me  my  castor,"  (meaning  his  hat,) 
which  slang  terms  he  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  using,  and  then  began  to  whip 
and  spur  to  get  his  horse  on ;  his  pulse  at 
this  time  was  one  hundred  and  thirty-six, 
full  and  hard ;  no  change  of  countenance 
could  be  observed,  nor  any  spasmodic 
affection  of  the  muscles,  the  eyes  remain- 
ing close  the  whole  of  the  time.  His  coat 
was  taken  off  his  arm,  his  shirt  sleeve 
stripped  up,  and  Mr.  Ridge  bled  him  to 
thirty-two  ounces  ;  no  alteration  had  taken 
place  in  him  during  the  first  part  of  the 
time  the  blood  was  flowing ;  at  about 
twenty-four  ounces,  the  pulse  began  to 
decrease;  and  when  the  full  quantity 
named  above  had  been  taken,  it  was  at 
eighty,  with  a  slight  perspiration  on  the 
forehead.  During  the  time  of  bleeding 
Mr.  Hewson  related  the  circumstance  of 
a  Mr.  Harris,  optician  in  Holborn,  whose 
son  some  years  before  walked  out  on  the 
parapet  of  the  house  in  his  sleep.  The 
boy  joined  the  conversation,  and  observed 
he  lived  at  the  corner  of  Brownlow-street. 
After  the  arm  was  tied  up,  he  unlaced  one 
boot,  and  said  he  would  go  to  bed.  In 
three  minutes  from  this  time  he  awoke, 
got  up,  and  asked  what  was  the  matter, 
(having  then  been  one  hour  in  the  trance,) 
not  having  the  slightest  recollection  of  any 
thing  that  had  passed,  and  wondered  at 
his  arm  being  tied  up,  and  at  the  blood, 
&c.  A  strong  aperient  medicine  was  then 
administered,  he  went  to  bed,  slept  sound, 
and  the  next  day  apperaed  perfectly  well, 
excepting  debility  from  the  bleeding  and 
operation  of  the  medicine,  and  had  no  re- 
collection whatever  of  what  had  taken 
place.  None  of  his  family  or  himself  were 
ever  affected  in  this  way  before.* 


REMARKABLE  STORM. 
The  following  remarkable  letter  in  the 
"  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  relates  to  the 
present  day  seventy  years  ago. 

Mr  URBAN,       Wigton,  Oct.  23,  1756. 

ON  the  6th  inst.  at  night,  happened  a 
most  violent  hurricane  ;  such  a  one 
perhaps  as  has  not  happened  in  these 
parts,  in  the  memory  of  man.  It  lasted 
full  4  hours  from  about  11  till  3.  The 
damage  it  has  done  over  the  whole  county 
is  very  deplorable.  The  corn  has  suffered 

*  The  Times,  October,  1823. 


prodigiously. — Houses  were  not  only 
unroofed,  but  in  several  places  overturned 
by  its  fury. — Stacks  of  hay  and  corn  were 
entirely  swept  away. — Trees  without  num- 
ber torn  up  by  the  roots.  Others,  snapt 
off  in  the  middle,  and  scattered  in  frag- 
ments over  the  neighbouring  fields.  Some 
were  twisted  almost  round  ;  bent,  or  split 
to  the  roots,  and  left  in  so  shattered  a  cor* 
dition  as  cannot  be  described. 

The  change  in  the  herbage  was  alsc 
very  surprising;  its  leaves  withered 
shrivelled  up,  and  turned  black.  The 
leaves  upon  the  trees,  especially  on  the 
weather  side,  fared  in  the  same  manner. 
The  Evergreens  alone  seem  to  have 
escaped,  and  the  grass  recovered  in  a  day 
or  two. 

I  agreed,  at  first,  with  the  general  opin- 
ion, that  this  mischief  was  the  effect  of 
Lightning ;  but,  when  I  recollected  that, 
in  some  places,  very  little  had  been  taken 
notice  of;  in  others  none  at  all;  and  that 
the  effect  was  general,  I  begun  to  think 
of  accounting  for  it  from  some  other  cause. 
I  immediately  examined  the  dew  or  rain 
which  had  been  left  on  the  grass,  win- 
dows, &c.  in  hopes  of  being  enabled,  by 
its  taste,  to  form  some  better  judgment  of 
the  particles  with  which  the  air  had  been 
impregnated,  and  I  found  it  as  salt  as 
any  sea  water  I  had  ever  tasted.  The 
several  vegetables  also  were  all  saltish 
more  or  less,  and  continued  so  for  5  or  6 
days,  the  saline  particles  not  being  then 
washed  off;  and  when  the  moisture  was 
exhaled  from  the  windows,  the  saline 
chrystal  sparkled  on  the  outside,  when  the 
sun  shined,  and  appeared  very  brilliant. 

This  salt  tvater,  I  conceive,  has  done 
the  principal  damage,  for  I  find  upon  ex- 
periment, that  common  salt  dissolved  in 
fresh  water  affected  some  fresh  vegetables, 
when  sprinkled  upon  them,  in  the  very 
same  manner,  except  that  it  did  not  turn 
them  quite  so  black, — but  particles  of  a 
sulphurous,  or  other  quality,*  may  have 
been  mixed  with  it. 

I  should  be  glad  to  see  the  opinions  of 
some  of  your  ingenious  correspondents 
on  this  wonderful  phenomenon  ; — whe- 
ther they  think  this  salt  water  was  brought 
from  the  sea,-|-  and  in  what  manner. 

Yours,  A.  B. 

*  In  an  adjoining  bleach-yard,  some  cloth  which 
had  lain  out  alt  night  was  turned  almost  yellow.—  - 
Other  pieces  also  which  were  spread  out  the  next 
morning,  contracted  the  samecolr.nr,  which  was  not 
without  great  difficulty  washed  out. 

t  The  wind  was  westerly,  and  consequently  in  its 
•massage  swept  the  Irish  sea. 


1301 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  7. 


1302 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     .  .  .  .  54  •  55. 


October  7. 

CONJUGAL  INDIFFERENCE. 
On  the  7ih  of  October,  1736,  a  man 
and  his  wife,  at  Rushal,  in  Norfolk, 
*•  having  some  words,"  the  man  went  out 
and  hanged  himself.  The  coroner's  in- 
quest found  it  "  self-murder,"  and  ordered 
him  to  be  Buried  in  the  cross-ways  ;  but 
his  wife  sent  for  a  surgeon,  and  sold  the 
body  for  half  a  guinea.  The  surgeon 
feeling  about  the  body,  the  wife  said, 
"  He  is  fit  for  your  purpose,  he  is  as  fat 
as  butter,"  The  deceased  was  thereupon 
put  into  a  sack  with  his  legs  hanging  out, 
and  being  thrown  upon  a  cart,  conveyed 
to  the  surgeon's.* 


OLD  TIMES  AND  NEW  TIMES. 

In  a  journal  of  1826,f  we  have  the 
following  pleasant  account  of  a  similar 
publication  ninety  years  ago. 

A  curious  document,  for  we  may  well 
term  it  so,  has  come  to  our  hands — a 
copy  of  a  London  newspaper,  dated 
Thursday,  March  24, 1736-7.  Its  title  is, 
"  The  Old  Whig,  or  the  Consistent  Pro- 
testant.'' It  seems  to  have  been  a  weekly 
paper,  and,  at  the  above  date,  to  have 
been  in  existence  for  about  two  years. 
How  long  it  lived  after,  we  have  not,  at 
present,  any  means  of  ascertaining.  The 
paper  is  similar  in  size  to  the  French  jour- 
nals of  the  present  day,  and  consists  of 
four  pages  and  three  columns  in  each.  The 
show  of  advertisements  is  very  fair.  They 
fill  the  whole  of  the  back  page,  and  nearly 
a  column  of  the  third.  They  are  all  book 
advertisements.  One  of  these  is  a  comedy 
called  "  The  Universal  Passion,"  by  the 
author  of  "  The  Man  of  Taste,"  no  doubt, 
at  that  time,  an  amply  sufficient  descrip- 
tion of  the  ingenious  playwright.  The 
"  Old  Whig"  was  published  by  «  J.  Ro- 
berts, at  the  Oxford  Arms,  in  Warwick- 
lane,"  as  likewise  by  "  H.  Whitridge, 
bookseller,  the  corner  of  Castle-alley,  near 
the  Royal-exchange,  in  Cornhill,  price 
two-pence !"  It  has  a  leading  article  in 
its  way,  in  the  shape  of  a  discourse  on  the 
liberty  of  the  press,  which  it  lustily  de- 
fends, from  what,  we  believe,  it  was  as 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 
1  New  Ti«n  g,  September  7. 


little  exposed  to,  in  1 786-7,  as  it  is  in 
1826 — a  censorship.  The  editor  apolo. 
gises  for  omitting  the  news  in  his  last,  on 
account  of  "  Mr.  Foster's  reply  to  Dr. 
Stebbing  !"  What  would  be  said  of  a 
similar  excuse  now-a-days  ? 

The  following  epigram  is  somewhat 
hacknied,  but  there  is  a  pleasure  in  ex- 
tracting it  from  the  print,  where  it  pro- 
bably first  appeared  : — 

"  As  we  were  obliged  to  omit  the  News 
in  last  week's  paper,  by  inserting  Mr.  Foster's 
answer  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Stebbing,  we  shall  in 
this  give  the  few  articles  that  are  any  way 
material." 

"  Cries  Celia  to  a  reverend  dean, 

What  reason  can  be  given, 
Since  marriage  is  a  holy  thing, 

That  there  is  none  in  Heaven  V 

"  There  are  no  Women,"  he  replied ; 

She  quick  returns  the  jest ; 
"  Women  there  are,  but  I  'm  afraid, 

They  cannot  find  a  priest !" 

The  miscellaneous  part  is  of  nearly  the 
same  character  as  at  present,  but  disposed 
in  rather  a  less  regular  form.  We  have 
houses  on  fire,  and  people  burnt  in  them, 
exactly  as  ice  had  last  week  ;  but  what  is  ' 
wonderful,  as  it  shows  the  great  improve- 
ment in  these  worthy  gentlemen  in  the 
course  of  a  century,  the  "Old  Whig" 
adds  to  its  account — "  The  watch,  it 
seems,  though  at  a  small  distance,  knew 
nothing  of  the  matter  !" 

There  is  a  considerable  number  of 
deaths,  for  people  died  even  in  those  good 
old  times,  and  one  drowning;  whether 
intentional  or  not  we  cannot  inform  our 
readers,  as  the  "  Old  Whig"  went  to  press 
before  the  inquest  was  holden  before  Mr. 
Coroner  and  a  most  respectable  jury. 

We  still  tipple  a  little  after  dinner,  but 
our  fathers  were  prudent  men ;  they  took 
time  by  the  forelock,  and  began  their 
convivialities  with  their  dejeune.  The 
following  is  a  short  notice  of  the  exploits 
of  a  few  of  these  true  men.  It  is  with  a 
deep  feeling  of  the  transitory  nature  of  all 
sublunary  things,  that  we  introduce  this 
notice,  by  announcing  to  our  readers  at  a 
distance,  that  the  merry  Boar's  Head  is 
merry  no  more,  ami  that  he  who  goe» 
thither  in  the  hope  of  quaffing  port,  where 
plump  Jack  quaffed  sack  and  sugar,  will 
return  disappointed.  The  sign  remains, 
but  the  hostel  is  gone. 

"  On  Saturday  last,  the  right  hon.  the 
Lord  Mayor  held  a  wardmote  at  St.  Mary 


1303 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  7. 


J304 


Abchurch,  for  the  election  of  a  common  coun- 
cilman, in  the  room  of  Mr.  Deputy  Davis. 
His  lordship  wer.t  sooner  than  was  expected 
by  Mr.  Clay's  friends,  and  arriving  at  the 
church,  ordered  proclamation  to  be  made, 
when  Mr.  Edward  Yeates  was  put  up  by  every 
person  present;  then  the  question  being  asked, 
whether  any  other  was  offered  to  the  ward, 
and  there  being  no  person  named,  his  lordship 
declared  Mr.  Yeates  duly  elected,  and  ordered 
him  to  be  sworn  in,  which  was  accordingly 
done;  and  just  at  the  words  '  So  help  you 
God,'  Mr.  Clay's  friends  (who  were  numerous, 
and  had  been  at  breakfast  at  the  Boar's  Head 
Tavern,  in  Eastcheap)  came  into  the  church, 
but  it  was  too  late,  for  the  election  was  over. 
This  has  created  a  great  deal  of  mirth  in  the 
ward,  which  is  likely  to  continue  for  some 
time.  The  Boar's  Head  is  said  to  be  the  tavern 
so  often  mentioned  by  Shakspeare,  in  his  play 
of  Henry  the  Fourth,  which  occasioned  a 
gentleman,  who  heard  the  circumstances  of 
the  election,  to  repeat  the  following  lines  from 
that  play : — 

"  (  Falst.  Now  Hall,  what  a  time  of  day  is 
it,  lad  ?' 

"  'P.  Hen. What  a  devil  has  thou  to  do 

with  the  time  of  the  day?  unless  hours  were 
cups  of  sack,  and  minutes  capons,'  "  &c. 

The  above  account  gives  a  specimen  of 
the  sobriety  of  our  fathers;  another  of 
their  virtues  is  exemplified  in  the  fol- 
lowing :-— 

"  By  a  letter  from  Penzance,  in  Cornwall, 
we  have  the  following  account,  viz. : — '  That 
on  the  1 2th  instant  at  night,  was  lost  near 
Portlevan  (and  all  the  men  drowned,  as  is 
supposed),  the  queen  Caroline,  of  Topsham, 
Thomas  Wills,  master,  from  Oporto,  there 
being  some  pieces  of  letters  found  on  the  sands, 
directed  for  Edward  Mann,  of  Exon,  one  for 
James  La  Roche,  Esq.  of  Bristol,  and  another 
for  Robert  Smyth,  Esq.  and  Company,  Bristol. 
Some  casks  of  wine  came  on  shore,  which  were 
immediately  secured  by  the  country  people; 
but  on  a  composition  with  the  collector,  to 
pay  them  eight  guineas  for  each  pipe  they 
brought  on  shore,  they  delivered  to  him  twenty- 
five  pipes ;  and  he  paid  so  many  times  eight 
guineas,  else  they  would  have  staved  them,  or 
carried  them  off.'  " 

The  order  maintained  in  England  at 
that  time  was  nothing  compared  to  the 
strictness  of  discipline  observed  on  the 
continent. 

"They  write  from  Rome,  that  count 
Trevelii,  a  Neapolitan,  had  been  beheaded 
there,  for  being  the  author  of  some  satirical 
writings  against  the  Pope:  that  Father  Ja- 
cobini,  who  was  sentenced  to  be  beheaded  on 
the  same  account,  had  obtained  the  favour  of 
being  sent  to  the  gallies,  through  the  interces- 


sion of  cardinal  Guadagni,  the  pope's  nephe  iv, 
who  was  most  maltreated  by  the  priest  and  .the 
count." 

These  were  times,  as  Dame  Quickly 
would  say,  when  honourable  men  were 
not  to  be  insulted  with  impunity. 

We  sometimes  hear  of  a  terrible  species 
of  mammalia,  called  West  India  Planters, 
and  there  is  an  individual  specimen  named 
Hogan,  or  something  like  it,  whose  won- 
derful fierceness  has  been  sounded  in  our 
ears  for  some  ten  or  twelve  years.  But 
what  will  the  abolitionists  say  to  the  ex- 
tract of  a  letter  from  Antigua?  Compared 
with  these  dreadful  doings,  Mr.  Hogan's 
delinquencies  were  mere  fleabites. 

"  Extract  of  a  letter  from  Antigua,  January 
15,  1736-7:— 'We  are  in  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  in  this  island,  the  burning  of  negroes, 
hanging  them  on  gibbets  alive,  racking  them 
on  the  wheel,  &c.  takes  up  almost  all  our  time ; 
that  from  the  20th  of  October  to  this  day, 
there  has  been  destroyed  sixty-five  sensible 
negro  men,  most  of  them  tradesmen,  as  car- 
penters, masons,  and  coopers.  I  am  almost 
dead  with  watching  and  warding,  as  are  many 
more.  They  were  going  to  destroy  all  the 
white  inhabitants  on  the  island.  Court,  the 
king  of  the  negroes,  who  was  to  head  the 
insurrection ;  Tomboy,  their  general,  and 
Hercules  their  lieutenant-general,  were  all 
racked  upon  the  wheel,  and  died  with  amazing 
obstinacy.  Mr.  Archibald  Hamilton's  Harry, 
after  he  was  condemned,  stuck  himself  with  a 
knife  in  eighteen  places,  four  whereof  were 
mortal,  which  killed  him.  Colonel  Martin's 
Jemmy,  who  was  hung  up  alive  from  noon  to 
eleven  at  night,  was  then  taken  down  to  give 
information.  Colonel  Morgan's  Ned,  who,  after 
he  had  been  hung  up  seven  days  and  seven 
nights,  that  his  hands  grew  too  small  for  his 
hand-cuffs,  he  got  them  out  and  raised  himself 
up,  and  fell  down  from  a  gibbet  fifteen  feet 
high,  without  any  harm  ;  he  was  revived  with 
cordials  and  broth,  in  hopes  to  bring  him  to  a 
confession,  but  he  would  not  confess,  and  was 
hung  up  again,  and  in  a  day  and  night  after 
expired.  Mr.  Yeoman's  Quashy  Coomah 
jumped  out  of  the  fire  half  burnt,  but  was 
thown  in  again.  And  Mr.  Lyon's  Tim  jumped 
out  of  the  fire,  and  promised  to  declare  all, 
but  it  took  no  effect.  In  short,  our  island  is 
in  a  poor,  miserable  condition,  that  I  wish  I 
could  get  any  sort  of  employ  in  England.'  " 

The  following  notice  is  of  a  more  plea- 
sing character : — 

"  In  a  few  days,  a  fine  monument  to  the 
memory  of  John  Gay,  Esq.,  auther  of  the 
Beggar's  Opera,  and  several  other  admired 
pieces,  will  be  erected  in  Westminster-abbey, 


2105 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  8,  9. 


1306 


at   the   expense   of    his    grace   the   duke   of 
Queensberry  and  Dover,  with  an  elegant,  in 
scription  thereon,  composed  by  the   deceased's 
intimate  and  affectionate  friend,  Mr.  Alexander 
Pope." 

There  are  two  more  observations  which 
we  have  to  make;  1st.  "  the  Old  Whig," 
as  was  meet,  was  a  strong  Orangeman  ; 
and  2d.  the  parliament  was  sitting  when 
the  number  before  us  was  published,  and^ 
yet  it  does  not  contain  one  line  of 
debate! 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...53.77. 


in  the  afternoon  she  took  cold  '  Death 
took  Ashmole  in  1695.  He  was  supersti- 
tious and  punctilious,  and  was  perhaps  a 
better  antiquary  than  a  friend ;  he  seems 
to  have  possessed  himself  of  Tradescant'" 
museum  at  South  Lambeth  in  a  manner 
which  rather  showed  his  love  of  antiqui- 
ties than  poor  old  Tradescant. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Ashmole's  life, 
"  drawn  up  by  himself  by  way  of  diary," 
was  not  printed  with  the  Life  of  Lilly  in  the 
"Autobiography."  Lilly's  Life  is  published 
in  that  pleasant  work  by  itself.  "  Tom 
Davies  "  deemed  them  fit  companions. 


October  8. 

ANCIENT  MANNERS. 

Elias  Ashmole,  the  antiquary,  enters 
thus  in  the  diary  of  his  life: — "  1657, 
October  8.  The  cause  between  me  and 
my  wife  was  heard,  when  Mr.  Serjeant 
Maynard  observed  to  the  court,  that  there 
were  800  sheets  of  depositions  on  my 
wife's  part,  and  not  one  word  proved 
against  me  of  using  her  ill,  nor  ever 
giving  her  a  bad  or  provoking  word." 
The  decision  was  against  the  lady;  the 
court,  refusing  her  alimony,  delivered  her 
to  her  husband ;  "  whereupon,"  says 
Ashmole,  "  I  carried  her  to  Mr.  Lilly's, 
and  there  took  lodgings  for  us  both."  He 
and  Lilly  dabbled  in  astrology ;  and  he 
tells  no  more  of  his  spouse  till  he  enters 
"  1668,  April  1.  2  Hor.  ante  merid,  the 
lady  Mainwaring  my  wife  died."  Subse- 
quently he  writes  — "  November  3.  I 
married  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Dugdale,  daughter 
to  William  Dugdale,  Esq.  Norroy,  king  of 
arms  at  Lincoln's-inn  chapel.  Dr.  Wil- 
liam Floyd  married  us,  and  her  father 
gave  her.  The  wedding  was  finished  at 
JO  hor.  post  merid." 

Ashmole's  diary  minutely  records  par- 
ticulars of  all  sorts : — "  September  5,  I 
took  pills ;  6,  I  took  a  sweat ;  7,  I  took 
leeches  ;  all  wrought  very  well. — Decem- 
ber 19,  Dr.  Chamberlain  proposed  to  me 
to  bring  Dr.  Lister  to  my  wife,  that  he 
might  undertake  her.  22.  They  both 
came  to  my  house,  and  Dr.  Lister  did 
undertake  her."  Though  Dr.  Lister  was 
her  undertaker  on  that  occasion,  yet  Ash- 
niole  records — "  1687,  April  16,  my  wife 
took  Mr.  Bigg's  vomit,  which  wrought 
very  well. — 19.  She  took  pnlvis  sanctis  ; 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  53  •  80. 


ST.  DENYS. 

This  name  in  the  church  of  England 
calendar  is  properly  noticed  in  vol.  i.  col. 
1370. 

On  the  celebration  of  this  saint's  festi- 
val in  cathclic  countries  he  is  represented 
walking  with  his  head  in  his  hands,  as  we 
are  assured  he  did,  after  his  martyrdom. 
A  late  traveller  in  France  relates,  that  on 
the  9th  of  October,  the  day  of  St.  Denis, 
the  patron  saint  of  France,  a  procession 
was  made  to  the  village  of  St.  Denis, 
about  a  league  from  Lyons.  This  was 
commonly  a  very  disorderly  and  tumultu- 
ous assembly,  and  was  the  occasion  some 
years  ago  of  a  scene  of  terrible  confusion 
and  slaughter.  The  porter  who  kept  the 
gate  of  the  city  which  leads  to  this  vil- 
lage, in  order  to  exact  a  contribution  from 
the  people  as  they  returned,  shut  the  gate 
at  an  earlier  hour  than  usual.  The  peo- 
ple, incensed  at  the  extortion,  assembled 
in  a  crowd  round  the  gate  to  force  it,  and 
in  the  conflict  numbers  were  stifled, 
squeezed  to  death,  or  thrown  into  the 
Rnone,  on  the  side  of  which  the  gate 
stood.  Two  hundred  persons  were  com- 
puted to  have  lost  their  lives  on  this  oc- 
casion. The  porter  paid  his  avarice  with 
his  life:  he  was  condemned  and  executed 
as  the  author  of  the  tumult,  and  of  the 
consequences  by  which  it  was  a  tended.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  52  -62. 

*  Miss  Phin  ptre. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. —OCTOBER  10. 


1308 


10 

1826.    Oxford  and  Cambridge  Terms  begin. 

CHRONOLOGY. 

On  Sunday,  October  10,  174 '2,  during 
the  time  of  worship,  the  roof  of  the  church 
of  Fearn,  in  Ross-shire,  Scotland,  fell 
suddenly  in,  and  sixty  people  were  killed, 
besides  the  wounded.  The  gentry  whose 
seats  were  in  the  niches,  and  the  preacher 
by  falling  under  the  sounding-board  were 
preserved.* 

PACK   MONDAY   FAIR,  AT   SHERBORNE, 
DORSETSHIRE 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Sherborne,  September,  1826. 

Sir, — Having  promised  to  furnish  an 
account  of  our  fair,  I  now  take  the  liberty 
of  handing  it  to  you  for  insertion  in 
your  very  entertaining  work. 

This  fail  is  annually  held  on  the  first 
Monday  after  the  10th  of  October,  and  is 
a  mart  for  the  sale  of  horses,  cows,  fat 
and  lean  oxen,  sheep,  lambs,  and  pigs ; 
cloth,  earthenware,  onions,  wall  and  hazle 
nuts,  apples,  fruit  trees,  and  the  usual 
nick  nacks  for  children,  toys,  ginger- 
bread, sweetmeats,  sugar  plums,  &c.  &c. 
with  drapery,  hats,  bonnets,  caps,  ribands, 
&c.  for  the  country  belles,  of  whom,  when 
the  weather  is  favourable,  a  great  number 
is  drawn  together  from  the  neighbouring 
villages. 

Tradition  relates  that  this  fair  originated 
at  the  termination  of  the  building  of  the 
church,  when  the  people  who  had  been 
employed  about  it  packed  up  their  tools, 
and  held  a  fair  or  wake,  in  the  church- 
yard, blowing  cows'  horns  in  their  re- 
joicing, which  at  that  time  was  perhaps 
the  most  common  music  in  use.f  The 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

t  Hutchins,  in  his  "  History  of  Dorset,"  says,  this 
"  Fair  is  held  in  the  churchyard,*  on  the  first  Mon- 
day after  the  feast  of  St.  Michael,  (O.  S.)  and  is  a 
great  holyday  for  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  and 
neighbourhood.  It  is  ushered  in  by  the  ringing  of 
the  great  bell,  at  a  very  early  hour  in  the  morning, 
and  by  the  boys  and  young  men  perambulating  the 
street  with  cows'  horns,  to  the  no  small  annoyance 
of  their  less  wakeful  neighbours.  It  has  been  an 
immemorial  custom  in  Sherborne,  for  the  boys  to 
blow  horns  in  the  evenings  in  the  streets,  for  some 
weeks  before  the  fair." 

t  The  fair  has  been  removed  from  the  churchyard 
about  six  or  seven  years,  and  is  now  held  on  a  spa- 
cious parade,  in  a  street  not  far  from  the  church. 


date  at  which  the  church  was  built  is  un- 
certain, but  it  may  be  conjectured  in  the 
sixth  century,  for  in  the  year  704,  king 
John  fixed  an  episcopal  see  at,  and  Aid- 
helm  was  consecrated  the  first  bishop  of, 
Sherborne,  in  705,  and  enjoyed  the  bi- 
shopric four  years.  Aldhelm  died  in  709, 
is  said  to  be  the  first  who  introduced 
poetry  into  England,  to  have  obtained  a 
proficiency  in  music,  and  the  first  Eng- 
lishman who  ever  wrote  in  Latin. 

To  the  present  time  Pack  Monday  fair, 
is  annually  announced  three  or  four  weeks 
previous  by  all  the  little  urchins  who  can 
procure  and  blow  a  cow's  horn,  parading 
the  streets  in  the  evenings,  and  sending 
forth  the  different  tones  of  their  horny 
bugles,  sometimes  beating  an  old  sauce- 
pan for  a  drum,  to  render  the  sweet  sound 
more  delicious,  and  not  unfrequently  a 
whistle-pipe  or  a  fife  is  added  to  the 
band.  The  clock's  striking  twelve  on  the 
Sunday  night  previous,  is  the  summons 
for  ushering  in  the  fair,  when  the  boys 
assemble  with  their  horns,  and  parade 
the  town  with  a  noisy  shout,  and  prepare 
to  forage  for  fuel  to  light  a  bonfire,  gene- 
rally of  straw,  obtained  from  some  of  the 
neighbouring  farmyards,  which  are  sure 
to  be  plundered,  without  respect  to  the 
owners,  if  they  have  not  been  fortunate 
enough  to  secure  the  material  in  some 
safe  part  of  their  premises.  In  this  way 
the  youths  enjoy  themselves  in  boisterous 
triumph,  to  the  annoyance  of  the  sleeping 
part  of  the  inhabitants,  many  of  whom 
deplore,  whilst  others,  who  entertain  re- 
spect for  old  customs,  delight  in  the  deaf- 
ening mirth.  At  four  o'clock  the  great 
bell  is  rang  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 
From  this  time,  the  bustle  commences  by 
the  preparations  for  the  coming  scene: 
stalls  erecting,  windows  cleaning  and  de- 
corating, shepherds  and  drovers  going 
forth  for  their  flocks  and  herds,  which  are 
depastured  for  the  night  in  the  neighbour- 
ing fields,  and  every  individual  seems  on 
the  alert.  The  business  in  the  sheep  and 
cattle  fairs  (which  are  held  in  different 
fields,  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  town, 
and  well  attended  by  the  gentlemen 
farmers,  of  Dorset,  Somerset,  and  Devon) 
takes  precedence,  and  is  generally  con- 
cluded by  twelve  o'clock,  when  what  is 
called  the  in-fair  begins  to  wear  the  ap- 
pearance of  business-like  activity,  and 
from  this  time  till  three  or  four  o'clock 
more  business  is  transacted  in  the  shop, 
counting-house,  parlour,  hall,  and  kitchen, 


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1310 


than  at  any  other  time  of  the  day,  it  being 
a  custom  of  the  tradespeople  to  have  their 
yearly  accounts  settled  about  this  time, 
and  scarcely  a  draper,  grocer,  hatter, 
ironmonger,  bookseller,  or  other  respect- 
able tradesman,  but  is  provided  with  an 
ample  store  of  beef  and  home-brewed 
October,  for  the  welcome  of  their  numer- 
ous customers,  few  of  whom  depart  with- 
out taking  quantum  suff.  of  the  old  Eng- 
lish fare  placed  before  them. 

Now,  (according  to  an  old  saying,)  is  the 
town  alive.  John  takesJoan  to  see  the  shows, 
—there  he  finds  the  giant — here  the  learned 
pig — the  giantess  and  dwarf — the  mena- 
gerie of  wild  beasts — the  conjuror — and 
Mr.  Merry  Andrew  cracking  his  jokes 
with  his  quondam  master.  Here  it  is — 
"  Walk  up,  walk  up,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, we  are  now  going  to  begin,  be  in 
time,  the  price  is  only  twopence."  Here 
is  Mr.  Warr's  merry  round-about,  with 
"  a  horse  or  a  coach  for  a  halfpenny." — 
Here  is  Rebecca  Swain*  with  her  black 
and  red  cock,  and  lucky-bag,  who  bawls 
out,  "  Come,  my  little  lucky  rogues,  and 
try  your  fortune  for  a  halfpenny,  all  prizes 
and  no  blanks,  a  faint  heart  never  wins  a 
fair  lady." — Here  is  pricking  in  the  gar- 
ter.—  Raffling  for  gingerbread,  with  the 
cry  of  "  one  in  ;  who  makes  two,  the  more 
the  merrier." — Here  is  the  Sheffield  hard- 
wareman,  sporting  a  worn-out  wig  and 
huge  pair  of  spectacles,  offering,  in  lots, 
a  box  of  razors,  knives,  scissors,  &c.,  each 
lot  of  which  he  modestly  says,  "  is  worth 
seven  shillings,  but  he'll  not  be  too  hard 
on  the  gaping  crowd,  he'll  not  take  seven, 
nor  six,  nor  five,  nor  four,  nor  three,  nor 


*  A  tall  and  portly  dame,  six  feet  full,  with  a  par- 
ticular screw  of  the  mouth,  and  whom  the  writer 
recollects  when  he  was  a  mere  child,  thirty  years 
ago ;  none  who  have  seen  and  heard  her  once,  but 
will  recollect  her  as  long  as  they  live. 


two,  but  one  shilling  for  the  lot, — going 
at  one  shilling — sold  again  and  the  money 
paid." — Here  are  two  earthenware-men 
bawling  their  shilling's  worth  one  against 
the  other,  and  quaffing  beer  to  each  other's 
luck  from  that  necessary  and  convenient 
chamber  utensil  that  has  modestly  usurped 
the  name  of  the  great  river  Po.  Here  is 
poor  Will,  with  a  basket  of  gingerbread, 
crying  "  toss  or  buy."  There  is  a  smirk- 
ing little  lad  pinning  two  girls  together 
by  their  gowns,  whilst  his  companion 
cracks  a  Waterloo  bang-up  in  their  faces. 
Here  stands  John  with  his  mouth  wide 
open,  and  Joan  with  her  sloe-black  ogles 
stretched  to  their  extremity  at  a  fine 
painted  shawl,  which  Cheap  John  is  offer- 
ing for  next  to  nothing ;  arid  here  is  a 
hundred  other  contrivances  to  draw  the 
"  browns"  from  the  pockets  of  the  un- 
wary, and  tickle  the  fancies  of  the  curi- 
ous ;  and  sometimes  the  rogue  of  a  pick- 
pocket extracting  farmer  Anybody's  watch 
or  money  from  his  pockets. 

This  is  Pack  Monday  fair,  till  even- 
ing throws  on  her  dark  veil,  when  the 
visiters  in  taking  their  farewell,  stroll 
through  the  rows  of  gingerbread  stalls, 
where  the  spruce  Mrs.  or  Miss  Sugarplum 
pops  the  cover  of  her  nut-can nister  forth, 
with  "  buy  some  nice  nuts,  do  taste,  sir,  (or 
ma'me,)  and  treat  your  companion  with  a 
paper  of  nuts."  By  this  time  the  country 
folks  are  for  jogging  home,and  vehicles  and 
horses  of  every  description  on  the  move, 
and  the  bustle  nearly  over,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  what  is  to  be  met  with  at  the 
inns,  where  the  lads  and  lasses  so  dis- 
posed, on  the  light  fantastic  toe,  assisted 
by  the  merry  scraping  of  the  fiddler, 
finish  the  fun,  frolic,  and  pastime  of 
Pack  Monday  Fair. 

I  am,  &c.  R.  T. 


SONNET. 
For  the  Every- Day  Book. 

Me,  men's  gay  haunts  delight  not,  nor  the  glow 
Of  lights  that  glitter  in  the  crowded  room  ; 

But  nature's  paths  where  silver  waters  flow, 

Making  sweet  music  as  along  they  go, 
And  shadowy  groves  where  birds  their  light  wings  plume, 
Or  the  brown  heath  where  waves  the  yellow  broom,, 

Or  by  the  stream  where  bending  willows  grow, 
And  silence  reigns,  congenial  with  my  gloom. 


13U 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER   10. 


131* 


"For  there  no  hollow  hearts,  no  envious  eyes, 
No  flatt'ring  tongues,  no  treacherous  hands  are  found, 

No  jealous  feuds,  no  gold-born  enmities, 
Nor  cold  deceits  with  which  men's  walks  abound, 

But  quietness  and  health,  which  are  more  meet, 

Than  glaring  halis  where  riot  holds  her  seat. 


a.  a.  j 


at 


—  The  stream  is  pure  in  solitude, 


But  passing  on  amid  the  haunts  of  men 

It  finds  pollution  there,  and  rolls  from  thenc 

A  tainted  tide. 


Southey, 


My  memory  does  not  help  me  to  a 
dozen  passages  from  the  whole  range  of 
authors,  in  verse  and  prose,  put  together; 
•«.  only  assists  me  to  ideas  of  what  I  have 


read,  and  to  recollect  where  tney  are  ex 
pressed,  but  not  to  their  words.  As  the 
"  Minor  Poems  "  are  not  at  hand,  I  can 
only  hope  I  have  quoted  the  preceding 


1313 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  10. 


1314 


lines  accurately.  Their  import  impressed 
me  in  my  boyhood,  and  one  fine  summer's 
afternoon,  a  year  or  two  ago,  I  involun- 
tarily repeated  them  while  musing  beside 
that  part  of  the  "  New  River  "  represented 
in  the  engraving.  I  had  strolled  to  "  the 
Compasses,"  when  "  the  garden, "  as  the 
landlord  calls  it,  was  free  from  the  nui- 
sance of  "  company ;"  and  thither  I  after- 
wards deluded  an  artist,  who  continues 
to  "  use  the  house,"  and  supplies  me  with 
the  drawing  of  this  sequestered  nook. 

This  a  gentle  river"  meanders  through 
countless  spots  of  surprising  beauty  and 
variety  within  ten  miles  of  town.  When 
I  was  a  boy  I  thought  "  Sadler's  Well's 
arch,"  opposite  the  "  Sir  Hugh  Myddel- 
ton,"  (a  house  immortalized  by  Hogarth,) 
the  prime  part  of  the  river ;  for  there,  by 
the  aid  of  a  penny  line,  and  a  ha'porth 
of  gentles  and  blood-worms,  "  mixed," 
bought  of  old  Turpin,  who  kept  the  little 
fishing-tackle  shojp,  the  last  house  by  the 
river's  side,  at  the  end  next  St.  John's- 
street-road,  I  essayed  to  gudgeon  gud- 
geons. But  the  "  prime"  gudgeon-fish- 
ing, then,  was  at  "  the  Coffin,"  through 
which  the  stream  flows  after  burying  itself 
at  the  Thatched-house,  under  Islington 
road,  to  Colebrooke-row,  within  half  a 
stone's  throw  of  a  cottage,  endeared  to 
me,  in  later  years,  by  its  being  the  abode 
of  "  as  much  virtue  as  can  live"  Past 
the  Thatched-house,  towards  Canonbury, 
there  was  the  "  Horse-shoe,"  now  no 
more,  and  the  enchanting  rear — since  de- 
spoiled— of  the  gardens  to  the  retreats 
of  Canonbury-place ;  and  all  along  the 
river  to  the  pleasant  village  of  Hornsey, 
there  were  delightful  retirements  on  its 
banks,  so  "  far  from  the  busy  haunts  of 
men,"  that  only  a  few  solitary  wanderers 
seemed  to  know  them.  Since  then,  I 
have  gone  "  over  the  hills  and  far  away," 
to  see  it  sweetly  flowing  at  Enfield  Chase, 
near  many  a  "  cottage  of  content,"  as  I 
have  conceived  the  lowly  dwellings  to  be, 
which  there  skirt  it,  with  their  little  gar- 
dens, not  too  trim,  whence  the  inmates 
cross  the  neat  iron  bridges  of  the  "  New 
River  Company,"  which,  thinking  of"  auld 
lang  syne,"  I  could  almost  wish  were  of 


wood.  Further  on,  the  river  gracefully 
recedes  into  the  pleasant  grounds  of  the 
late  Mr.  Gough  the  antiquary,  who,  if  he 
chiefly  wrote  on  the  manners  and  remains 
of  old  times,  had  an  especial  love  and 
kind  feeling  for  the  amiable  and  pic- 
turesque of  our  own.  Pursuing  the  river 
thence  to  Theobalds,  it  presents  to  the 
"  contemplative  man's  recreation,"  temp- 
tations that  old  Walton  himself  might 
have  coveted  to  fall  in  his  way :  and 
why  may  we  not  "  suppose  that  the  vici- 
nity of  the  New  River,  to  the  place  of 
his  habitation,  might  sometimes  tempt 
him  out,  whose  loss  he  so  pathetically 
mentions,  to  spend  an  afternoon  there." 
He  tells  "  the  honest  angler,"  that  the 
writing  of  his  book  was  the  "  recreation  of 
a  recreation,"  and  familiarly  says,  "  the 
whole  discourse  is,  or  rather  was,  a  pic- 
ture of  my  own  disposition,  especially  in 
such  days  and  times  as  I  have  laid  aside 
business,  and  gone  a  fishing  with  honest 
Nat.  and  R.  Roe  ;  but  they  are  gone,  and 
with  them  most  of  my  pleasant  hours, — 
even  as  a  shadow  that  passeth  away  and 
returns  not." 


I  dare  not  say  that  I  am,  and  yet  I 
cannot  say  that  I  never  was,  an  angler ;  for 
I  well  remember  where,  though  I  cannot 
tell  when,  within  a  year,  I  was  enticed  to 
"  go  a  fishing,"  as  the  saying  is,  which 
I  have  sometimes  imagined  was  derived 
from  Walton's  motto  on  the  title  of  his 
book  : — "  Simon  Peter  said,  I  go  a  fish- 
ing :  and  they  said,  we  also  will  go  with 
thee. — John  xxi.  3."  This  passage  is  not 
in  all  the  editions  of  the  "  Complete 
Angler,"  but  it  was  engraven  on  the  title- 
page  of  the  first  edition,  printed  in  1653. 
Allow  me  to  refer  to  one  of  "  captain 
Wharton's  almanacs,"  as  old  Lilly  calls 
them  in  his  "  Life  and  Times,"  and  point 
out  what  was,  perhaps,  the  earliest  adver- 
tisement of  Walton's  work :  it  is  on  the 
back  of  the  dedication  leaf  to  "  HEMEROS- 
COPEION  :  Anni  ^Erae  Christianas  1654." 
The  almanac  was  published  of  course  in 
the  preceding  year,  which  was  the  year 
wherein  Walton's  work  was  printed. 


irf 


'g  angler,  1653. 


"There    is    published  a  Booke  of   Eighteen-pence  price,    called 

The  Compleat  Angler,  Or,  The  Contemplative  man's  Recreation  :  be- 

ing a  Discourse  of  Fish  and  Fishing.     Not  unworthy  the  perusall. 

Sold  by  Richard  Marriot  in   S.  Dunstan's  Church-yard  Fleets  trect." 

VOL.  II.—  94. 


1315 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK  .--OCTOBER  11, 12. 


1316 


This  advertisement  I  deem  a  biblio- 
nianiacal  curiosity.  Only  think  of  the 
first  edition  of  Walton  as  a  "  booke  of 
eighteen-pence  price!"  and  imagine  the 
good  old  man  on  the  day  of  publication, 
walking  from  his  house  «*  on  the  north 
side  of  Fleet-street,  two  doors  west  of  the 
end  of  Chancery-lane,"  to  his  publisher 
and  neighbour  just  by,  "Richard  Marriot, 
in  S.  Dunstan's  Churchyard,"  for  the 
purpose  of  inquiring  "  how"  the  book 
**  went  off."  There  is,  or  lately  was,  a 
large  fish  in  effigy,  at  a  fishing-tackle- 
maker's  in  Fleet-street,  near  Bell-yard, 
•which,  whenever  I  saw  it,  after  I  first  read 
Walton's  work,  many  years  ago,  reminded 
me  of  him,  and  his  pleasant  book,  and  its 
delightful  ditties,  and  brought  him  before 
me,  sitting  on  "  a  primrose  bank  "  turning 
his  "  present  thoughts  into  verse" 

TIJE  ANGLER'S  WISH. 

I  in  these  flowery  meads  would  be  : 
These  crystal  streams  should  solace  me  ; 
To  whose  harmonious  bubbling  noise 
I  with  my  angle  would  rejoice  r 
Sit  here,  and  see  the  turtle-dove 
Court  his  chaste  mate  to  acts  of  love  : 

Or,  on  that  bank,  feel'the  west  wind 
Breathe  health  and  plenty  :  please  my  mind, 
To  see  sweet  dew-drops  kiss  these  flowers, 
And  then  washed  off  by  April  showers  : 
Here,  hear  my  Kenna  sing  a  song  ; 
There,  see  a  blackbird  feed  her  young, 
Or  a  leverock  build  her  nest  : 
Here,  give  iny  weary  spirits  rest, 
And  raise  my  low-pitch'd  thoughts  above 
Earth,  or  what  poor  mortals  love  : 

Thus,  free  from  law-suits  and  the  noise 
Of  princes'  courts,  I  would  rejoice  : 

Or,  with  my  Bryan,  and  a  book, 
Loiter  long  days  near  Shawford-brook  ; 
There  sit  by  him,  and  eat  my  meat, 
There  see  the  sun  both  rise  and  set  ; 
There  bid  good  morning  to  next  day; 
There  meditate  my  time  away  ; 
And  angle  on  ;  and  beg  to  have 
A  quiet  passage  to  a  welcome  grave. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  52  •  05. 


Thii  is  "  Old  Michaelmas  Day." 

"  DUNCAN'S  VICTORY." 
On  the  llth  of  October,  1797,  admiral 


Duncan  obtained  a  splendid  victory  over 
the  Dutch  fleet  ofTCamperdown,  near  the 
isle  of  Texel,  on  the  coast  of  Holland. 
For  this  memorable  achievement  he  was 
created  a  viscount,  with  a  pension  of  two 
thousand  pounds  per  annum.  His  lord- 
ship died  on  the  4th  of  August,  1804  ;  he 
was  born  at  Dundee,  in  Scotland,  on  the 
1st  of  July,  1731.  After  the  battle  of 
Camperdown  was  decided,  he  called  his 
crew  together  in  the  presence  of  the  cap- 
tured Dutch  admiral,  who  was  greatly 
affected  by  the  scene,  and  Duncan  kneel- 
ing on  the  deck,  with  every  man  under 
his  command,  "  solemnly  and  pathetically 
offered  up  praise  and  thanksgiving  to  the 
God  of  battles ; — strongly  proving  the 
truth  of  the  assertion,  that  piety  and 
courage  should  be  inseparably  allied,  and 
that  the  latter  without  the  former  loses  its 
principal  virtue."* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .  ...  51  •  82. 


12. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  the  12th  of  October,  1748,  was  born 
at  St.  John's  near  Worcester,  Mr.  William 
Butler,  the  author  of  "  Chronological, 
Biographical,  Historical,  and  Miscella- 
neous Exercises,"  an  excellent  work,  for 
young  persons  especially,  a  useful  com- 
pendium in  every  library,  and  one  to 
which  the  editor  of  the  Every-  Day  Book 
has  been  indebted  as  a  ready  guide  to  many 
interesting  and  important  events. 

In  the  seventh  edition  of  Mr.  Butler's 
work  just  mentioned,  we  are  informed  by 
his  son,  Mr.  John  Olding  Butler,  that  his 
father  was  educated  in  the  city  of  Wor- 
cester. Having  acquired  considerable 
knowledge,  and  especially  an  excellent 
style  of  penmanship,  he  in  1  765  repaired 
to  the  metropolis,  and  commenced  his 
career  as  a  teacher  of  writing  and  geo- 
graphy. In  these  branches  of  education 
he  attained  the  highest  repute  on  account 
of  the  improvements  which  were  intro- 
duced by  him  in  his  mode  of  instruction. 
His  copies  were  derived  from  the  sources 
of  g-eography,  history,  and  biographical 
memoirs.  A  yet  more  extensive  and  per- 
manent benefit  was  conferred  upon  young 
persons  by  the  many  useful  and  ingenious 

*  Butler**  Chronological  Exercises. 


1317 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  13. 


1313 


works  which  lie  published,  a  list  of  which 
is  subjoined.  They  contain  a  mass  of  in- 
formation, both  instructive  and  entertain- 
ing, rarely  collected  in  one  form,  and  are 
admirably  adapted  to  promote  the  great 
design  of  their  author — the  moral,  intel- 
lectual, and  religious  improvement  of  the 
rising  generation  ;  to  this  he  consecrated 
all  hi«  faculties,  the  stores  of  his  memory, 
and  the  treasures  of  his  knowledge. 

As  a  practical  teacher  Mr.  Butler  had 
few  superiors,  and  his  success  in  life  was 
commensurate  with  his  merit :  he  was  the 
most  popular  instructor  in  his  line. 

A  strict  probity,  an  inviolable  regard 
to  truth,  an  honourable  independence 
of  mind,  and  a  diffusive  benevolence, 
adorned  his  moral  character ;  and  to  these 
eminent  virtues  must  be  added,  that  of  a 
rigid  economy  and  improvement  of  time, 
for  which  he  was  most  remarkable.  How 
much  he  endeavoured  to  inculcate  that 
which  he  deemed  the  foundation  of  every 
virtue,  the  principle  of  religion,  may  be 
seen  in  his  "  Chronological,  &c.,  Exer- 
cises :"  to  impress  this  principle  on  the 
youthful  heart  and  mind  was  considered 
by  him  as  the  highest  duty.  Mr.  Butler's 
professional  labours  were  commenced  at 
the  early  age  of  seventeen,  and  were  con- 
tinued with  indefatigable  ardour  to  the 
last  year  of  his  life,  a  period  of  fifty-seven 
years.  In  estimating  the  value  of  such  a 
man,  we  should  combine  his  moral  prin- 
ciple with  his  literary  employments  ;  these 
were  formed  by  him  into  duties,  which  he 
most  conscientiously  discharged  :  and  he 
will  be  long  remembered  as  one  who  com- 
municated to  a  large  and  respectable  circle 
of  pupils  solid  information,  examples  of 
virtue,  and  the  means  of  happiness  ;  and 
who,  in  an  age  fruitful  of  knowledge,  by 
his  writings  instructed,  and  will  long  con- 
tinue to  instruct  the  rising  generation,  and 
benefit  mankind.  His  virtues  will  live 
and  have  a  force  beyond  the  grave. 

Mr.  Butler  died  at  Hackney,  August  1, 
1822,  after  a  painful  illness,  borne  with  ex- 
emplary patience  and  resignation.  He 
was  one  of  the  oldest  inhabitants  of  that 
parish,  and  was  interred  there,  by  his  own 
desire,  in  the  burying-ground  attached  to 
the  meeting-house  of  his  friend,  the  late 
Rev.  Samuel  Palmer 


2.  An     engraved    INTRODUCTION    to 
ARITHMETIC,  designed  to  facilitate  youn^ 
beginners,  and  to  diminish  the  labour  of 
the  tutor.     4*.  6d.  bound. 

3.  ARITHMETICAL   QUESTIONS,   on    a 
new  plan  ;  intended  to  answer  the  double 
purpose  of  arithmetical  instruction  and 
miscellaneous  information.     6*.  bound. 

4.  GEOGRAPHICAL  and  BIOGRAPHICAL 
EXERCISES,  on  a  new  plan.     4* 

5.  EXERCISES   on  the  GLOBES,  inter- 
spersed with  historical,  biographical,  chro- 
nological, mythological,  and  miscellaneous 
information,  on  a  new  plan.     The  ninth 
edition.     6*.  bound. 

6.  A  numerous  collection  of  ARITH- 
METICAL TABLES.     8d. 

7.  GEOGRAPHICAL  EXERCISES  IN  THE 
NEW  TESTAMENT;  with  maps,  and  a  brief 
account  of  the  principal  religious  sects. 
5s.  Qd.  bound. 

8.  MISCELLANEOUS  QUESTIONS,  relat- 
ing  principally  to  English  history   and 
biography.  Second  edition,  enlarged.    4s. 

Mr.  BOURN,  son-in-law  of  Mr.  Butler, 
and  his  associate  in  his  profession  up- 
wards of  thirty  years,  purchased  the  copy- 
right of  the  greater  part  of  Mr.  Butler's 
works.  They  have  passed  through  a 
number  of  editions,  and  if  the  Every- 
Day  Book  extend  a  knowledge  of  their 
value,  it  will  be  to  the  certain  benefit  of 
those  for  whose  use  they  were  designed. 
The  envious  and  suspicious  may  deny 
that  there  is  such  a  quality  as  "  dis- 
interestedness in  human  actions,"  yet 
the  editor  has  neither  friendship  nor  inti- 
macy with  any  one  whom  this  notice  may 
appear  to  favour.  He  only  knows  Mr. 
Butler's  books,  and  therefore  recom- 
mends them  as  excellent  aids  to  parents 
and  teachers. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  50  •  10. 

©rtofcer  13 

TRANSLATION  K.  EDWARD.  CONF. 

This  notice  of  the  day  in  the  church  of 
England  calendar  and  almanacs,  denotes 
it  as  the  festival  of  the  translation  of  king 
Edward  the  Confessor.* 


A  list  of  Mr.  Butler'*  books  for   the 
use  of  young  persons. 

1.  CHRONOLOGICAL  EXERCISES,  already 
mentioned.     Price  6*.  bound. 


Edward  the  Confessor  died  on  the  5th 
of  January,  1066,  and  was  buried  in  the 

*  See  vol.  1.  1878. 


1319 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  14. 


1320 


abbey  church  of  St.  Peter,  Westminster. 
"  His  queen,  Edgitha,  survived  the  saint 
many  years  ;''  she  was  bur«d  beside  him, 
and  her  coffin  was  covered  with  plates  of 
silver  and  gold.  According  to  his  bio- 
graphers, in  1102,  the  body  of  St.  Edward 
"was  found  entire,  the  limbs  flexible,  and 
the  clothes  fresh.  The  bishop  of  Roches- 
ter "  out  of  a  devout  affection,  endeavoured 
to  pluck  onely  one  hayre  from  his  head, 
but  it  stuck  so  firmly  that  he  was  defeated 
of  his  desire."  This  was  at  the  saint's 
first  translation.  Upon  miracles  "  duly 
proved,  the  saint  was  canonized  by  Alex- 
ander III.,  in  1161."  It  appears  that 
"  there  are  commemorated  severall  trans- 
lations of  his  sacred  body."  In  1 1 63,  "  it 
was  again  translated  by  S.  Thomas  a 
Becket,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  in  the 
presence  of  king  Henry  II.  This  trans- 
lation seems  to  have  been  made  on  the 
1 3th  of  October ;  for  on  that  day  "  he  is 
commemorated  in  our  martyrologe,  where- 
as in  the  Roman  he  is  celebrated  on  the 
5th  of  January."  It  further  appears  that, 
"  about  a  hundred  years  after,  in  the 
presence  of  king  Henry  III.,  it  was  again 
translated,  and  reposed  in  a  golden  shrine, 
prepared  for  it  by  the  same  king.* 

The  see  of  Rome  is  indebted  to  Edward 
the  Confessor  for  a  grant  to  the  pope  of 
what  was  then  called  Rome-scot,  but  is 
now  better  known  by  the  name  of  "  Peter- 
penny."  The  recollection  of  this  tribute 
is  maintained  by  the  common  saying  "  no 
penny,  no  paternoster;"  of  which  there  is 
mention  in  the  following  poem  from  the 
"  Hesperides  :"-r- 

Fresh  strewings  allow 

To  my  sepulcher  now, 
To  make  my  lodging  the  sweeter  ; 

A  staffe  or  a  wand 

Put  then  in  my  hand, 
With  a  penny  to  pay  S.  Peter 

Who  has  not  a  crosse, 

Must  sit  with  the  losse, 
And  no  whit  further  must  venture  ; 

Since  the  porter  he 

Will  paid  have  his  fee, 
Or  els  not  one  there  must  enter. 

Who  at  a  dead  lift, 

Can't  send  for  a  gift, 
A  pig  to  the  priest  for  a  roster 

Shall  heare  his  clarke  say, 

By  yea  and  by  nay, 
No  penny  no  pater  noster. 


Henick. 


•  Butler.     Creyrr 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  50  •  62. 

r  14. 

A  LUCKY  DAY. 

"  SOME    MEMORABLE     REMAR^UES 
upon  the  FOURTEENTH  OF  OCTOBER, 
being   the   Auspicious  Birth-Day  of 
His  Present  Majesty  The  Most  Se- 
rene King  JAMES  II.  Luc.  xix.  42 
In  Hoc  Die  Tuo.  In  This  THY  DAY. 
London,  Printed  by  A.  R.   And  arf 
to  be  sold  by  Randal  Taylor,  near 
Stationers-Hall  1687."  Folio. 
In  this  curious  tract,  the  author  pur- 
ports  to  set  forth  "  how  lucky  the  Four- 
teenth of  October  hath  been  to  the  prin- 
ces of  England,"  and  because  he  disco- 
vers "  out  of  Whartoris  Gesta  Britanno- 
rum,  and  the  collections  of  others,  that 
his  late  royal  highness,  our  magnanimous 
magnificent  sovereign,  (James    II.,)  was 
also  born  upon  that  augural  day,"  he  ob- 
serves— "It   made   more   than  ordinary 
impression  upon  me,  so  that  I  never  saw 
him,  but,  I  thought,  in  his  very  face  there 
were  extraordinary  instances  and  tokens 
of  regality." 

There  were  some,  it  seems,  who,  after 
"  his  late  royal  highness  "  the  dukes 
M  recess  into  Holland,"  "  exceedingly  try- 
umphed,  wishing  he  might  never  return  ; 
nay,  that  he  durst  not,  nor  would  be  per- 
mitted so  to  do ;  using,  moreover,  oppro- 
brious terms."  These  persons,  he  tells 
us,  he  "  prophetically  characteris'd  "  in 
his  "  Introductio  ad  Latinam  Blasoniam  ;" 
hence,  he  says,  "Indignation  made  me 
print  my  ensuing  sentiments,"  which 
"  found  good  acceptance  among  the  better 
and  more  loyal  sort ;"  and  hence,  he  fur- 
ther says,  "  things  by  me  forethought, 
and  publickly  hinted,  being  come  to  pass, 
my  Day  Fatality  began  to  be  remembred ; 
and  one  whom  I  wish  very  well,  desiring 
I  would  give  him  leave  to  reprint  that, 
and  two  other  of  my  small  pieces  together, 
I  assented  to  his  request."  These  form 
the  present  treatise,  from  whence  we  ga- 
ther that  the  Fourteenth  of  October 

"  gave  the  Norman  duke 

That   vict*ry   whence   he   England's  scepter 

took," 

and  was  remarkable  for  the  safe  landing 
of  Edward  III.,  after  being  endangered 
by  a  tempest  at  sea  on  his  returning  vic- 
torious from  France.  Wherefore,  says  our 
author,  in  Latin  first,  and  then  in  these 
English  lines — 


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1322 


"  Great  duke  rejoice  in  this  your  day  of  birth, 
And  may  such  omens  still  increase  your  mirth." 
Afterwards  he  relates,  from  Matthew  Pa- 
ris, that  when  "  Lewis  king  of  France  had 
set  footing  here,  and  took  some  eminent 
olaces,  he  besieged  Calais  from  22 
of  July,  to  the  Fourteenth  of  Oc- 
tober following,  about  which  time  the 
siege  was  raised,  and  England  thereby 
relieved."  Likewise  "  a  memorable  peace, 
(foretold  by  Nostradamus)  much  con- 
ducing to  the  saving  of  Christian  blood, 
was  made  upon  the  Fourteenth  of  October, 
1557,  between  pope  Paul  the  IV.  Henry 
the  II.  of  France,  and  Philip  the  II.  of 
Spain."  Whereon,  exclaims  our  exultant 
author,  tl  A  lucky  day  this,  not  only  to  the 
princes  of  England,  but  auspicious  to  the 
welfare  of  Europe."  He  concludes  by 
declaring  "  that  it  may  be  so  to  his  royal 
highness,  as  well  as  it  was  to  the  most 
great  queen  his  mother,  are  the  hearty 
prayers  of  BLEW-MANTLE." 

From  the  conclusion  of  the  last  sentence, 
and  the  previous  reference  to  his  "  Blaso- 
niam,"  we  find  this  writer  to  have  been 
John  Gibbon,  the  author  of  "An  Easie 
Introduction  to  Latine  Blason,  being  both 
Latine  and  English  " — an  octavo  volume, 
now  only  remembered  by  the  few  col- 
lectors of  every  thing  written  on  "  coat- 
armour." 

Gibbon  speaks  of  one  of  his  pamphlets 
"  whose  title  should  have  been  Dux  Bonis 
Omnibus  Appellens,  or  The  Swans'  Wel- 
come ;"  or  rather,  as  he  afterwards  set 
it  out  at  large,  "  Some  Remarks  upon 
the  Note-worthy  Passage,  mentioned  in 
the  TRUE  DOMESTICK  INTELLIGENCE  dated 
October  the  Fourteenth  1679,  concerning 
a  company  of  SWANS  more  than  ordinary 
gathered  together  at  his  royal  highriess's 
landing."  Instead,  however,  of  its  having 
such  a  title,  he  tells  us  "  there  was  a 
strange  mistake,  not  only  in  that,  but  in 
other  material  circumstances;  so  that 
many  suppose,  the  printer  could  never 
have  done  it  himself,  but  borrowed  the 
assistance  of  the  evil  spirit  to  render  it 
ridiculous,  and  not  only  so,  but  the  very 
Duke  himself  and  the  Loyal  Artillery  !", 
irherefore  u  the  printer  smothered  the  far 
greatest  number  of  them,"  yet,  as  he 
adds  it  to  the  tract  on  the  Fourteenth  of 
October,  we  have  the  advantage  to  be 

told  "  what  authors  say  of  the  candid 
Swan,"  that  all  esteem  him  for  a  "  bird 

oyal,"  that  "  oftentimes  in  coats  and 
c»ests  we  meet  him  either  crown'd  or 


coronally  collar'd,"  that  "  he  is  a  bird  of 
great  beauty  and  strength  also,"  that 
"  shipmen  take  it  for  good  luck  if  in  peril 
of  shipwreck  they  meet  swans,"  that  "  he 
uses  not  his  strength  to  prey  or  tyrannize 
over  any  other  fowl,  but  only  to  be  re- 
venged of  such  as  offer  him  wrong,"  and 
so  forth.  Ergo — according  to  "  Blew- 
mantle,"  we  should  believe  that,  "  the 
most  serene  king  James  II."  was  greeted 
by  these  honourable  birds,  "  in  allegory 
assembled,"  to  signify  his  kindred  virtues. 
If  Gibbon  lived  from  1687,  where  he 
published  his  "  Remarques,  on  the  Four- 
teenth of  October"  as  the  auspicious 
birth-day  of  James  II.  until  the  landing 
of  William  III.  in  the  following  year — did 
he  follow  the  swan-like  monarch  to  the 
court  of  France,  or  remain  "  Blew-man- 
tle"  in  the  Herald's  college,  to  do  honour 
to  the  court  of  "  the  deliverer?" 

Gibbon,  in  his  "  Remarques,"  on  the 
"  auspicious"  Fourteenth  of  October,  prints 
the  following  epistle,  to  himself,  which 
may  be  regarded  as  a  curiosity  on  ac- 
count of  the  superstition  of  its  writer. 
A  letter  from  Sir  Winston  Churchil, 
Knight ;  Father  to  the  Right  Honour- 
able, John  Lord  Churchil. 
J  Thank  you  for  your  kind  Present,  the 
Observation  of  the  Fatality  of  Days. 
I  have  made  great  Experience  of  the 
Truth  of  it ;  and  have  set  down  Fryday, 
as  my  own  Lucky  Day ;  the  Day  on  which 
I  was  Born,  Christen'd,  Married,  and,  I 
believe,  will  be  the  Day  of  my  Death  : 
The  Day  whereon  I  have  had  sundry  De- 
liverances, (too  long  to  relate)  from  Perils 
by  Sea  and  Land,  Perils  by  False 
Brethren,  Perils  of  Law  Suits,  &c.  I 
was  Knighted  (by  chance,  unexpected  by 
my  self)  on  the  same  Day ;  and  have 
several  good  Accidents  happened  to  me, 
on  that  Day  :  And  am  so  superstitious  in 
the  Belief  of  its  good  Omen,  That  I  chuse 
to  begin  any  Considerable  Action  (that 
concerns  me)  on  the  same  Day.  1  hope 
HE,  whom  it  most  concerns,  will  live  to 
own  your  Respect,  and  Good  Wishes, 
expressed  in  That  Essay  of  yours  :  Which 
discovering  a  more  than  common  Affect- 
ion to  the  DUKE,  and  being  as  valuable 
for  the  Singularity  of  the  Subject,  as  the 
Ingenuity  of  your  Fancy,  I  sent  into 
Flanders,  as  soon  as  I  had  it ;  That  They 
on  the  Other  Side  the  Water  may  see, 
'Tis  not  all  sowre  Wine,  that  runs  from 
our  English  Press. 

"  The  Right  Honourable,   John  Lori 


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1324 


Churchil,"  mentioned  at  the  head  of  this 
ominous  letter,  became  celebrated  as  "  the 
great  duke  of  Marlborough."  Sir  Win. 
ston  Churchill  was  the  author  of  "  Divi 
Britannici,  a  history  of  the  lives  of  the 
English  kings  "  in  folio  ;  but  his  name  is 
chiefly  remembered  in  connection  with 
his  son's,  and  from  his  having  also  been 
father  to  Arabella  Churchill,  who  became 
mistress  to  the  most  serene  king  of  Blew- 
Mantle  Gibbon,  and  from  that  connection 
was  mother  of  the  duke  of  Berwick,  who 
turned  his  arms  against  the  country  of  her 
birth. 

Sir  Winston  was  a  cavalier,  knighted 
at  the  restoration  of  Charles  II.,  for  ex- 
ertions in  the  royal  cause,  by  which  his 
estates  became  forfeited.  He  recovered 
them  under  Charles,  obtained  a  seat  in 
the  house  of  commons,  became  a  fellow 
of  the  royal  society,  had  a  seat  at  the 
board  of  green  cloth,  and  died  in  1688. 
He  was  bom  in  1620,  at  Wootton  Glan- 
ville,  in  Dorsetshire.*  His  letter  on 
"  Fryday  "  is  quite  as  important  as  his 
"  Divi  Britannici." 


TAKING  HONEY  WITHOUT  KILLING  THE 

BEES. 

On  the  14th  day  of  October,  1766, 
Mr.  Wildman,  of  Plymouth,  who  had 
made  himself  famous  throughout  the  west 
of  England  for  his  command  over  bees, 
was  sent  for  to  wait  on  lord  Spencer,  at 
his  seat  at  Wimbledon,  in  Surrey ;  and 
he  attended  accordingly.  Several  of  the 
nobility  and  persons  of  fashion  were 
assembled,  and  the  countess  had  provided 
three  stocks  of  bees.  The  first  of  his 
performances  was  with  one  hive  of  bees 
hanging  on  his  hat,  which  he  carried  in 
his  hand,  and  the  hive  they  came  out  of 
in  the  other  hand  ;  this  was  to  show  that 
he  could  take  honey  and  wax  without 
destroying  the  bees.  Then  he  returned 
into  the  room,  and  came  out  again  with 
them  hanging  on  his  chin,  with  a  very 
venerable  beard.  After  showing  them 
to  the  company,  he  took  them  out  upon 
the  grass  walk  facing  the  windows,  where 
a  table  and  table  cloth  being  provided,  he 
set  the  hive  upon  the  table,  and  made  the 
bees  hive  therein.  Then  he  made  them 
come  out  again,  and  swarm  in  the  air,  the 
ladies  and  nobility  standing  amongst 
them,  and  no  person  stung  by  them.  He 
made  them  go  on  the  table  and  took  them 


up  by  handfuls,  and  tossed  them  up  and 
down  like  so  many  peas  ;  he  then  made 
them  go  into  their  hive  at  the  word  of 
command.  At  five  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon he  exhibited  again  with  the  three 
swarms  of  bees,  one  on  his  head,  one  on 
his  breast,  and  the  other  on  his  arm,  and 
waited  on  lord  Spencer  in  his  room,  who 
had  been  too  much  it.disposed  to  see  the 
former  experiments;  the  hives  which  the 
bees  had  been  taken  from,  were  carried 
by  one  of  the  servants.  After  this  exhi- 
bition he  withdrew,  but  returned  once 
more  to  the  room  with  the  bees  all  over 
his  head,  face,  and  eyes,  and  was  led 
blind  before  his  lordship's  window.  One 
of  his  lordship's  horses  being  brought  out 
in  his  body  clothes,  Mr.  Wildman  mount- 
ed the  horse,  with  the  bees  all  over  his 
head  and  face,  (except  his  eyes  ;)  they  like- 
wise covered  his  breast  and  left  arm  ;  he 
held  a  whip  in  his  right  hand,  and  a  groom 
led  the  horse  backwards  and  forwards  be- 
fore his  lordship's  window  for  some  time. 
Mr.  Wildman  afterwards  took  the  reins  in 
his  hand,  and  rode  round  the  house  ;  he 
then  dismounted,  and  made  the  bees 
march  upon  a  table,  and  at  his  word 
of  command  retire  to  their  hive.  The 
performance  surprised  and  gratified  the 
earl  and  countess  and  all  the  spectators 
who  had  assembled  to  witness  this  great 
bee-master's  extraordinary  exhibition.* 

Can  the  honey  be  taken  without  destroy- 
ing the  bees  ?  There  are  accounts  to  this 
effect  in  several  books,  but  some  of  the 
methods  described  are  known  to  have 
failed.  The  editor  is  desirous  of  ascer- 
taining, whether  there  is  a  convenient 
mode  of  preserving  the  bees  from  the 
cruel  death  to  which  they  are  generally 
doomed,  after  they  have  been  despoiled  of 
their  sweets. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  50  •  85. 


15. 

EXHUMATION. 

It  appears  from  a  printed  half  sheet,  of 
which  the  following  is  a  copy,  that  the 
will  of  a  person  who  had  been  resident 
at  Stevenage,  was  proved  on  this  day  in 
the  year  1724,  whereby  he  desired  his 


*  General    Biographical    Dictionary,    (Hunt   and 
Clarke,)  vol.  i. 


Annual  Register,  17C6, 


1325 


THE  £  VERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  15. 


1326 


remains  to  be  kept  unburied.  It  is  a  cu- 
rious document,  and  further  information 
respecting  the  individual  whose  caprice 
was  thus  indulged  will  be  acceptable. 

(Copy) 
THE  ECCENTRIC  WILL 

OF  THE  LATE 

HENRY  TRIGG,  OF  STEVENAGE, 

Where  his  Remains  are  still  upon  the 
Rafters  of  the  West  End  of  the  Hovel, 
and  may  be  viewed  by  any  Traveller  who 
may  think  it  worthy  of  Notice. 

The  same  is  recorded  in  History,  and  may 
be  depended  on  as  a  Fact. 


$n  tfje  flanu  of  £§a&,  &mtn. 

T  HENRY  TRIGG,  of  Stevenage,  in 
A3  the  County  of  Hertford,  Grocer, 
being  very  infirm  and  weak  in  body,  but 
of  perfect  sound  mind  and  memory, 
praised  be  God  for  it,  calling  unto  mind 
the  mortality  of  my  body,  do  now  make 
and  ordain  this  my  last  WILL  and  TES- 
TAMENT, in  writing  hereafter  following, 
that  is  to  say  :  —  Principally  I  recommend 
my  Soul  into  the  merciful  hands  of  Al- 
mighty God  that  first  gave  me  it,  assuredly 
believing  and  only  expecting  free  pardon 
and  forgiveness  of  all  my  sins,  and  eternal 
life  in  and  through  the  only  merits,  death, 
and  passion  of  Jesus  Christ  my  Saviour  ; 
and  as  to  my  body,  I  commit  it  to  the 
West  End  of  my  Hovel,  to  be  decently 
laid  there  upon  a  floor  erected  by  my 
Executor,  upon  the  purlins,  upon  the 
same  purpose,  nothing  doubting  but  at 
the  general  Resurrection  I  shall  receive 
the  same  again  by  the  mighty  power  of 
God,  and  as  for  and  concerning  such 
wordly  substance  as  it  hath  pleased  God 
to  bless  me  with  in  this  life,  I  do  devise 
and  dispose  of  the  same  in  manner  and 
form  following. 

Imprimis.  —  I  give  and  devise  unto  my 
loving  brother  THOMAS  TRIGG,  of  Letch- 
worth,  in  the  County  of  Hertford,  Clerk, 
and  to  his  Heirs  and  Assigns  for  ever,  all 
those  my  Freehold  Lands  lying  dispersedly 
in  the  several  Common  Fields  and  parish 
of  Stevenage  aforesaid,  and  also  all  my 
Copyhold  Lands,  upon  condition  that  he 
shall  lay  my  body  upon  the  place  before- 
mentioned  :  and  also  all  that  Messuage, 
Cottage,  or  Tenement,  at  Redcoat's  Green, 
in  the  parish  of  Much  Wymondly,  toge- 
ther with  those  Nine  Acres  of  Land, 
(•more  or  less)  purchased  of  William  Hale 


and  Thomas  Hale,  junr.  and  also  my  Cot- 
tage, Orchard,  and  Barn,  with  Four  Acres 
of  Land  (more  or  less)  belonging,  lying, 
and  being  in  the  parish  of  Little  Wy- 
mondly,  now  in  the  possession  of  SAMUEL 
KITCHENER,  labourer;  and  also  all 
my  Cottages,  Messuages,  or  Tenements, 
situate  and  being  in  Stevenage,  aforesaid  ; 
or,  upon  condition  that  he  shall  pay  my 
brother  GEORGE  TRIGG  the  sum  of  Ten 
Pounds  per  annum  for  his  life  ;  but  if  my 
brother  should  neglect  or  refuse  to  lay  my 
body  where  I  desire  it  should  be  laid, 
then  upon  that  condition,  I  Will  and  be- 
queath all  that  which  I  have  already  be- 
queathed to  my  brother  THOMAS  TRIGG, 
unto  my  brother  GEORGE  TRIGG,  and  to 
his  Heirs  for  ever :  and  if  my  brother 
GEORGE  TRIGG,  should  refuse  to  lay  my 
body  under  my  Hovel,  then  what  I  have 
bequeathed  unto  him  as  all  my  Lands  and 
Tenements,  I  lastly  bequeath  them  unto 
my  Nephew  WILLIAM  TRIGG,  and  his 
Heirs  for  ever,  upon  his  seeing  that  my 
bedy  is  decently  laid  up  there  as  aforesaid. 
Item. — I  give  and  bequeath  unto  my 
Nephew  WILLIAM  TRIGG,  the  sum  of 
Five  Pounds  at  the  age  of  Thirty  Years : 
to  his  Sister  SARAH  the  sum  of  Twenty 
Pounds ;  to  his  Sister  ROSE  the  sum  of 
Twenty  Pounds ;  and  lastly  to  his  Sister 
ANN  the  sura  of  Twenty  Pounds,  all  at 
the  age  of  Thirty  Years  :  to  JOHN  SPEN- 
CER, of  London,  Butcher,  the  sum  of  One 
Guinea;  and  to  SOLOMON  SPENCER,  of 
Stevenage,  the  sum  of  One  Guinea,  three 
years  next  after  my  decease  ;  to  my  cousin 
HENRY  KIMPTON,  One  Guinea,  one  year 
next  after  my  decease  ;  and  another  Gui- 
nea, two  years  after  my  decease ;  to  WIL-" 
HAM  WABT,  Five  Shillings;  and  to  JO- 
SEPH PRIEST,  Two  Shillings  and  Sixpence, 
two  years  after  my  decease  ;  to  my  tenant 
ROBERT  WRIGHT  the  sum  of  Five  Shil- 
lings, two  years  next  after  my  decease ; 
and  to  RALPH  LOWD  and  JOHN  REEVES, 
One  Shilling  each,  two  years  next  after 
my  decease. 

Item. — —  All  the  rest  of  my  Goods, 
and  Chattels,  and  personal  Estate,  and 
ready  Money,  I  do  hereby  give  and  devise 
unto  my  Brother  THOMAS  TRIGG,  paying 
my  Debts  and  laying  my  Body  where  I 
would  have  it  laid,  whom  I  likewise  make 
and  ordain  my  full  and  sole  Executor  of 
this  my  last  Will  and  Testament,  or  else 
to  them  before  mentioned  ;  ratifying  and 
confirming  this  and  no  other  to  be  my  last 
Will  and  Testament.  In  witness  whereof 
I  have  hereunto  set  my  Hand  and  S«al, 


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1328 


this  twenty-eighth  day  of  September,  in 
the  year  of  our  Lord,  one  Thousand  seven 
Hundred  and  twenty  four. 

HENRY  TRIGG. 

Read,  Signed,  Sealed,  and  declared  by  the 
said  HENRY  TRIGG,  the   Testator,   to 
the  his  last  Will  and  Testament,  in  the 
presence  of  us,  who  have  subscribed  our 
Names   as    Witnesses    hereto,   in    the 
Presence  of  the  said  Testator. 
JOHN  HAWKINS,  Sent. 
JOHN  HAWKINS,  Junr. 
The  mark  X  of  WILLIAM  SEXTON. 

Proved  in  the  Archdeaconry  of  Hunt- 


ingdon, the  15th  of  Octobe^  1724,  by  the 
Executor  THOMAS  TRIGG. 


In  October,  1743,  a  cobbler,  at  Bristol, 
died  of  a  bite  in  the  finger  inflicted  by  a 
cat,  which  was  sent  to  his  house  by  an 
old  woman  in  revenge  for  his  calling  her 
"  Witch,"  against  which  dipping  in  salt 
water  proved  ineffectual,  "This,  they 
say,  was  well  attested ;"  and  well  it  might 
be ;  for  doubtless  the  cat  was  mad,  and 
the  woman,  bewitched  by  the  unhappy 
cobbler  of  Bristol,  had  no  more  to  do 
with  the  bite,  than  "  the  old  woman  of 
Ratcliff-highway.'* 


The  15th  day  of  October  was  dedicated 
by  "  the  Merchants  to  Mercury,"  and  is 
so  noted  in  the  calendar  of  Julius  Csesar. 
This  name  is  derived  a  mercibus,  because 
he  was  the  god  of  merchandize ;  and,  in 
that  quality,  he  is  sometimes  represented 
as  a  young  man  without  a  beard,  holding 
on  his  wrists  a  cock  as  an  emblem  of  vigi- 


lance, and  in  his  hand  a  purse  as  its  reward. 
A  beautiful  head  of  this  deity  on  hia- 
cynth,  in  the  possession  of  lord  Clan  bras- 
sill,  when  it  was  charmingly  etched  by 
Worlidge,  is  pictured  in  the  present  en- 
graving. It  suggests  itself  as  one  of  the 
most  elegant  forms  for  a  seal  that  can  be 
presented  to  the  eye. 


Gather  your  rose-buds  while  you  may, 

Old  Time  is  still  a-flying  ; 
And  that  same  flower  that  blooms  to-day, 

To-morrow  may  be  dying. 

The  glorious  lamp  of  heaven,  the  Sun, 

The  higher  he  is  getting, 
The  further  still  his  course  is  run, 

And  nearer  he's  to  setting. 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  15. 


133C 


<§erman 

An  elevated  stand  he  takes, 
And  to  the  fiddle's  squeak,  he  makes 
A  loud  and  entertaining  lecture 
On  every  wonder-working  picture  :— 
The  children  cry  "  hark  ! — look  at  that !' 
And  folks  put  money  in  the  hat; 
Or  buy  his  papers  that  explain 
The  stories  they  would  hear  again. 


This  engraving  is  taken  from  one  by 
Chodowiecki,  of  Berlin,  to  show  the  Ger- 
man showman,  on  his  stage  of  boards  and 
Iressils,  as  he  shows  his  pictures.  These 
me  usually  prints  stretched  out,  side  by 
side,  on  an  upright  frame,  or  sometimes 


oil  paintings  representing  characters  or 
situations  of  interest.  For  instance,  in 
the  present  exhibition  there  is  the  mode 
of  keeping  the  festival  of  the  new  year, 
a  grand  ball,  a  feast,  a  wedding,  a  "  high 
sight"  of  the  court,  and,  in  all,  thirteen 


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THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  16, 17. 


1332 


subjects,  sufficiently  beyond  the  intimacy 
of  the  populace  to  excite  their  curiosity. 
The  showman  commonly  details  so  much 
concerning  every  thing  in  his  grand  ex- 
hibition, and  so  elevates  each,  as  to 
interest  his  auditors  to  the  height  of  desir- 
ing further  particulars.  The  stories  are 
printed  separately  in  the  shape  of  ballads 
or  garlands,  and  "  embellished  with  cuts ;" 
by  the  sale  of  these  to  his  auditors  he 
obtains  the  reward  of  his  oratory. 

The  qualifications  for  a  German  show- 
man are  a  manly  person,  sonorous  voice, 
fluent  delivery,  and  imposing  manner.  In 
dress  he  is  like  a  sergeant-major,  and  in 
address  like  a  person  accustomed  to  com- 
mand. He  is  accompanied  in  his  speeches 
by  a  fiddler  of  vivacity  or  trick,  to  keep 
the  people  "  in  merry  pin."  This  as- 
sociate is  generally  an  old  humourist,  with 
a  false  nose  of  strange  form  and  large 
dimensions,  or  a  huge  pair  of  spectacles. 
Their  united  exertions  are  sure  to  gratify 
audiences  moxe  disposed  to  be  pleased 
than  to  criticise.  With  them,  the  show  is 
an  affair  of  like  or  dislike  to  the  eye,  and 
beyond  that  the  judgment  is  seldom  ap- 
pealed to  on  the  spot.  If  the  outlines  of 
the  showman's  stories  are  bold,  and  well 
expressed,  they  are  sure  to  amuse ;  his 
printed  narratives  are  in  good  demand; 
both  exhibitors  and  auditors  part  satis- 
fied with  each  other ;  and  they  frequently 
meet  again.  This  is  the  lowest  order  of 
the  continental  street  comedy.  In  Eng- 
land we  have  not  any  thing  like  it,  nor 
are  we  likely  to  have ;  for,  though  strange 
sights  almost  cease  to  attract,  yet  the 
manager  and  musician  to  a  rational  ex- 
hibition of  this  sort,  in  the  open  air,  clearly 
come  within  the  purview  of  recent  acts 
of  parliament,  and  would  be  consigned  to 
the  tread-mill.  What  recreation,  how- 
ever, can  be  more  harmless  if  the  subjects 
are  harmless.  "  Death  and  the  Lady," 
the  "  Bloody  Gardener's  Cruelty,"  and  the 
numerous  tribe  of  stories  to  which  these 
garlands  belong,  continue  to  be  pinned 
on  lines  against  a  few  walls  of  the  me- 
tropolis, but  they  cease  to  attract.  The 
"  common  people,"  as  they  are  called,  re- 
quire a  new  species  of  street  entertainment 
and  a  new  literature:  both  might  be 
easily  supplied  with  infinite  advantage  to 
the  public  morals. 

N  \  iURALISTS'    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Tcmpe:a'ure     ,  .      .  50  •  72. 


16. 


THE  SEASON. 

An  appearance  at  this  time  of  the 
year,  already  noticed,  appears  to  have  sur- 
prised our  countrymen  in  Lancashire. 
Though  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  author- 
ities who  communicate  the  intelligence 
believe  it  very  remarkable,  yet  it  is 
doubtful  whether  the  occurrence  may  not 
be  more  frequent  in  that  part  of  England 
than  they  have  had  the  opportunity  of 
remarking.  Their  account  is  to  the  fol- 
lowing purport  :  — 

On  Sunday,  October  1,  1826,  a  phe- 
nomenon of  rare  occurrence  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Liverpool  was  observed  in 
that  vicinage,  and  for  many  miles  distant, 
especially  at  Wigan.  The  fields  and 
roads  were  covered  with  a  light  filmy 
substance,  which  by  many  persons  was 
mistaken  for  cotton;  although  they  might 
have  been  convinced  of  their  error,  as 
staple  cotton  does  not  exceed  a  few  inches 
in  length,  while  the  filaments  seen  in  such 
incredible  quantities  extended  as  many 
yards.  In  walking  in  the  fields  the  shoes 
were  completely  covered  with  it,  and  its 
floating  fibres  came  in  contact  with  the 
face  in  all  directions.  Every  tree,  lamp- 
post, or  other  projecting  body  had  arrested 
a  portion  of  it.  It  profusely  descended 
at  Wigan  like  a  sleet,  and  in  such  quan- 
tities as  to  affect  the  appearance  of  the 
atmosphere.  On  examination  it  was 
found  to  contain  small  flies,  some  of 
which  were  so  diminutive  as  to  require  a 
magnifying  glass  to  render  them  percep- 
tible. The  substance  so  abundant  in 
quantity  was  the  gossamer  of  the  garden, 
or  field  spider,  often  met  with  in  the 
country  in  fine  weather,  and  of  which, 
according  to  Button,  it  would  take  663,552 
spiders  to  produce  a  single  pound.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  58  .  45. 


17. 

A  LYING-IN  CUSTOM. 

A  lady  who  is  pleased  to  grace  these 
columns  by  her  pen,  *ransmits  a  very 
minute  description  of  a  very  "  comfort- 
able thing"  at  this  time  ot  >.\e  year,  which 
may  well  be  extended  from  a  particular 
usage  at  an  interesting  period,  to  a 
general  one. 

*  JJverpool  Mercury.     Se«  The  Times,  October  9. 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  17. 


1334 


SUGARED  TOAST. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Westbury,  September  10,1826. 
Sir, — I  suspect  that  although  you  solicit 
/he  aid  of  correspondents  in  furnishing 
your  excellent  miscellany  with  accounts 
of  iocal  customs,  you  scarcely  expect  to 
receive  one  which  appertains  to  that  im- 
portant time,  when  mothers  increase  their 
care,  and  fathers  receive  the  additional 
"  tender  juveniles"  with  joy  or  sorrow, 
"  as  it  may  happen  !"  If  you  should 
give  publicity  to  the  following  strange 
"  feast,"  (more  honoured  in  the  breach 
than  in  the  observance,)  I  shall  feel  grati- 
tied,  as  it  may  not  only  lead  to  an  eluci- 
dation of  its  meaning  and  origin,  but 
will  tend  to  convince  your  readers,  that 
you  will  not  despise  their  efforts  at  con- 
tribution, however  humble.  I  am  not  a 
native  of  this  part  of  the  country,  or,  as 
the  good  people  say  here,  I  am  not  "  one 
o'  Westbury,"  for  I  have  resided  till  lately 
in  and  near  London,  where  the  manners 
customs,  and  habits,  are  a  hundred  years 
in  advance  of  those  of  the  western  part  of 
the  kingdom  ;  hence,  many  of  the  usages 
that  obtain  around  us,  which  now  excite 
my  surprise,  would  have  passed  as  a  thing 
of  course,  had  I  been  always  among 
them. 

On  the  "  confinement"  of  a  lady, — but 
I  must,  before  I  proceed,  define  a  lady 
"  of  these  parts,5'  by  the  unerring  test  of 
her  husband's  qualifications  :  if  he  can 
maintain  his  own,  and  her  station  in  their 
little  world,  he  is  then  "  well  to  do," — 
"  a  rich  fellow  enough,  go  to  —a  fellow 
that  hath  had  losses,  and  which  is  more, 
a  householder  ;  one  who  hath  two  gowns 
to  his  back,  and  every  thing  handsome 
about  him  ;" — one  who  recreates  in  his 
own  gig  ;  keeps  a  "  main"  of  company  ; 
patronises  the  tiny  theatre ;  grows  his 
own  pines,  and  tries  to  coax  his  forced 
plants  into  the  belief  that  the  three  dozen 
mould  candles  which  he  orders  to  be 
lighted  in  his  hot-house  every  evening, 
are  "  shedding  delicious  light,"  left  by 
the  "  garish  god  of  day/'  for  their  especial 
benefit,  during  his  nocturnal  rambles  !* 
The  wife  of  such  a  man,  sir,  I  designate  a 
lady  and  when  such  a  lady's  accouche- 
ment takes  place,  her  "  dear  five  hundred 
friends"  are  admitted  to  see  her  the  next 
day.  In  London,  the  scale  of  friendship 
is  graduated  woefully  lower ;  for  visiters 

•  A  fact ! 


there,  bear  the  pangs  of  absence  from  the 
interesting  recluse  a  whole  fortnight. 

You  are,  doubtless,  anxious  to  come 
to  the  "  pith  and  marrow'*  of  this  com- 
munication, and  I  will  tantalize  you  no 
longer.  In  "  these"  parts  of  the  country, 
it  is  the  custom,  when  a  lady  shall  have 
been  "  as  well  as  can  be  expected,"  for 
thirteen  or  fourteen  days,  for  the  hus- 
band to  enjoy  what  is  called  "  the  gen- 
tleman's party,"  viz :  all  his  friends,  bache- 
lor and  Benedict,  are  invited  to  eat 
"  sugared  toast,"  which,  (as  the  cookery- 
books  always  say,)  "  is  thus  prepared" — 
Rounds  of  bread  are  "  baked"  (videlicit 
toasted,}  each  stratum  spread  thick  with 
moist  sugar,  and  piled  up  in  a  portly 
punch  bowl,  ready  for  action  :  u  strong 
beer,"  (anglice,  home-brewed  ale,)  is  in 
the  mean  time  heated,  and  poured  boiling 
hot  over  the  mound  of  bread  ;  which  is 
•taken  immediately  to  the  expectant  guests, 
who  quickly  come  to  the  conclusion  of 
the  gothic  "  mess."  How  they  contrive 
to  emancipate  the  toast  from  the  scald- 
ing liquid,  I  never  could,  by  any  effort  of 
ingenuity  and  research,  decide  to  my 
own  satisfaction.  A  goodly  slice  you 
know,  sir,  it  would  be  entirely  impracti- 
cable to  achieve ;  for  in  half  a  minute 
from  the  time  of  the  admission  of  the 
"  hot  beer,"  the  toast  must  be  "  all  of  a 
swam,"  (as  we  elegantly  say  here,)  and, 
resembling  the  contents  of  the  witch's 
cauldron,  "  thick  and  slab."  Whether 
a  soup  ladle  and  soup  plates  are  in  re- 
quisition on  the  occasion,  I  am  equally 
unable  to  ascertain  ;  but  on  the  final  dis- 
missal of  this  gentlemanly  food,  (for  I  by 
no  means  would  insinuate  that  the  con- 
gregation is  limited  to  one  act  of  devo- 
tion,) they  magnanimously  remunerate 
the  "  nurse,"  by  each  putting  money 
into  the  empty  bowl,  which  is  then  con- 
veyed to  the  priestess  of  their  ignoble 
orgies  !  Of  all  the  "  mean  and  impotent 
conclusions"  of  a  feast,  defend  me  from 
that,  which  pays  its  "  pic  nic"  pittance 
to  an  old  crone,  who  is  hired  to  attend 
the  behests  of  the  "  lady,"  but  who  by 
some  strange  mutation  becomes  the  di- 
rectress of  the  "  gentleman's"  revels,  and 
the  recipient  of  the  payment  from  his 
guests,  for  "  sugar'd  toast  /" 

Should  this  "  custom,"  be  thought 
worthy  of  being  admitted  into  the  Every- 
Day  Book,  you  will  "  tell"  of  something 
more  than  Herrick  "  dreamt  of  in  his 
philosophy  ;"  and  the  following  couplet 
might  "  blush  to  find  its  fame"  among 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  18,  19. 


1336 


his  descriptive  lines  that  adorn  your  title- 
page;  after 

"  Bridegrooms, brides,and  of  their  bridal  cakes, ' 

might  come — 

"  I  tell  of  times  when  husbands  rule  the  roast, 

And  riot  in  the  joys  of  '  sugar'd  toast ;' 

I  tell  of  groves,  &c." 

I  am,  Sir, 

Yours  very  respectfully, 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature    ....  50  •  60. 


18. 

DEATH  OF  THE  LOTTERY. 

If  any  thing  can  be  believed  that  is 
said  by  the  lottery  people  respecting  the 
lottery,  before  the  appearance  of  the  next 
sheet  of  the  Every-Day  Book  the  lottery 
will  be  at  an  end  for  ever. 

Particulars  respecting  the  last  moments 
of  this  "  unfortunate  malefactor,"  will  be 
very  acceptable  if  transmitted  immedi- 
ately ;  and  in  order  to  an  account  of  lot- 
teries in  the  ensuing  sheet,  information 
and  anecdotes  respecting  them  are  most 
earnestly  desired* 

FORGED  NOTES  IN  SHOP  WINDOWS. 

A  newspaper  of  this  day  in  the  year 
1818,  contains  a  paragraph  which  marks 
the  discontent  that  prevailed  in  London, 
in  consequence  of  a  regulation  adopted 
by  the  Bank  of  England  at  that  time. 

"  The  new  mode  adopted  by  the  Bank, 
of  stamping  the  forged  notes  presented 
to  them  for  payment,  and  returning  them 
to  the  parties  who  may  have  received 
them,  has  at  least  the  good  effect  of  ope- 
rating as  a  caution  to  others,  not  to  re- 
ceive notes  without  the  greatest  caution.  It 
has,  however,  another  effect  often  produc- 
tive of  public  inconvenience  ;  for  such  are 
the  doubts  now  entertained  as  to  the  good- 
ness of  every  note  .tendered  in  payment, 
that  many  will  not  give  change  at  all ;  and 
the  disposition  to  adhere  to  this  practice 
seems  every  day  to  be  getting  more  ge- 
neral. In  almost  ^very  street  in  town, 
forged  notes  are  seen  posted  on  trades- 
men's windows,  and  not  unfrequently  this 
exhibition  is  accompanied  with  the  words 
« Tradesmen !  beware  of  changing  notes.' 
The  operation  of  stamping  the  forged 


notes,  was  at  first  performed  by  the  hand, 
but  now  so  arduous  has  this  labour  be- 
come, that  a  machine  is  erected  for  the 
purpose,  and  it  would  seem  from  the 
never-ceasing  quantity  of  such  paper  in 
circulation,  that  it  will  be  necessary  to 
erect  a  steam-engine,  so  that  hundreds 
may  undergo  the  operation  at  once."* 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  51  •  32. 


19. 


GARRICK. 
"Garrick  was,  and  Kemble  is  no  more." 

On  this  day  in  the  year  1741,  the 
"  British  Roscius,"  as  he  is  emphatically 
termed,  made  his  first  appearance  as  "  a 
gentleman  who  never  appeared  on  any 
stage."  A  remarkable  event,  precurs- 
ing  the  revival  of  the  drama,  by  Garrick, 
and  its  perfection  by  Kemble,  deserves 
notice  as  a  memorial  of  what  "  has  been  :" 
particularly  as  we  have  arrived  at  a  period 
when,  in  consequence  of  managers  having 
been  outmanaged,  and  the  public  tricked 
out  of  its  senses,  the  drama  seems  to 
have  fallen  to  rise  no  more 


Leadenhall-street,  October,  1826. 

Sir, — The  following  is  a  copy  of  the 
play-bill  that  announced  the  first  appear- 
ance of  Mr.  Garrick. 

I  am,  Sir,  yours  truly, 

H.  B. 

October  19,  1741. 
GOODMAN'S  FIELDS. 
At    the    late    Theatre    in    Goodman's 
Fields,  this  day  will  be  performed  a  Con- 
cert  of  Vocal   and    Instrumental  Music, 
divided  into  two  parts. 
Tickets  at  Three,  Two,  and  One  Shilling. 
Places  for  the  boxes  to  be  taken  at  the 
Fleece  Tavern,  near  the  Theatre. 

N.B.  Between   the  two    parts  of  the 
Concert  will  be   presented  an   Historical 
Play,  called  the  Life  and  Death  of 
KING    RICHARD  THE  THIRD, 
containing  the  distresses  of 

King  Henry  VI. 

The  artful  acquisition  of  the  Crown  by 
KING  RICHARD, 

*  Observer. 


133? 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  20. 


1338 


The  murder  of  the  young  King  Edward  V. 

and  his  brother,  in  the  Tower. 
The  landing  of  the  Earl  of  Richmond, 

And  the  death  of  King  Richard  in  the 
memorable  battle  of  Bosworth  Field, 
being  the  last  that  was  fought  between  the 
Houses  of  York  and  Lancaster. 
With  many  other  true  historical  passages. 
The  part  of  KING  RICHARD  by  a  Gen- 
tleman. 

(JVho  never  appeared  on  any  stage,} 
King  Henry,  by  Mr.  Giffard  ;  Rich- 
mond, Mr.  Marshall  ;  Prince  Edward,  by 
MissHippisley  ;  Duke  of  York,  Miss  Nay- 
lor  ;  Duke  of  Buckingham,  Mr.  Peterson  ; 
Duke  of  Norfolk,  Mr.  Blades  ;  Lord  Stan- 
ley, Mr.  Pagett;  Oxford,  Mr.  Vaughan  ; 
Tressel,  Mr.  W.  Giffard;  Catesby,  Mr. 
Marr  ;  Ratcliff,  Mr.  Crofts  ;  Blunt,  Mr. 
Naylor;  Tyrrell,  Mr.  Puttenham  ;  Lord 
Mayor,  Mr.  Dunstall  ;  The  Queen,  Mrs. 
Steel  ;  Duchess  of  York,  Mrs.  Yates  ; 
And  the  part  of  Lady  ANNE, 

By  Mrs.  GIFFARD. 
With  Entertainments  of  Dancing 
By  Mons.  Fromet,  Madam  Duvall,  and 
the  two  Masters  and  Miss  Granier. 
To  which  will  be  added  a  Ballac.  Opera  of 

one  act,  called 
THE  VIRGIN  UNMASK'D. 
The  part  of  Lucy  by  Miss  HIPPISLEY. 
Both  of  which  will  be  performed  gratis 
by  persons  for  their  diverson. 

The  Concert  will  begin  exactly  at  six 
o'clock.  - 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  51  •  10. 


WRESTLING. 

A  writer  in  a  journal  of  this  month, 
1826,*  gives  the  following  account  of 
several  wrestling  matches  between  men 
of  Devonshire  and  Cornwall,  on  the  19th 
20th  and  21st  of  September  preceding, 
at  the  Eagle-tavern-green,  City-road.  He 
says,  "  the  difference  in  the  style  of  wrest- 
ling of  these  two  neighbouring  shires,  is 
as  remarkable  as  that  of  the  lineaments  of 
their  inhabitants.  The  florid  chubby- 
faced  Devon-man  is  all  life  and  activity 
in  the  ring,  holding  himself  erect,  and  of- 
fering every  advantage  to  his  opponent. 
The  sallow  sharp-featured  Cornwall-man 
is  all  caution  and  resistance,  bending 

•  The  London   Magazine. 


himself  in  such  a  way,  that  his  legs  are 
inaccessible  to  his  opponent,  and  waiting 
for  the  critical  instant,  when  he  can  spring 
in  upon  his  impatient  adversary." 

The  account  of  the  matches  at  the 
Eagle-tavern  then  proceeds  in  the  follow- 
ing manner : — 

The  contest  between  Abraham  Cann 
and  Warren,  not  only  displayed  this  dif- 
ference of  style,  but  was  attended  with  a 
degree  of  suspense  between  skill  and 
strength,  that  rendered  it  extremely  inte- 
resting.— The  former,  who  is  the  son  of  a 
Devonshire  farmer,  has  been  backed 
against  any  man  in  England  for  5001. 
His  figure  is  of  the  finest  athletic  propor- 
tions, and  his  arm  realizes  the  muscularity 
of  ancient  specimens  :  his  force  in  it  is 
surprising  ;  his  hold  is  like  that  of  a  vice, 
and  with  ease  he  can  pinion  the  arms  of 
the  strongest  adversary,  if  he  once  grips 
them,  and  keep  them  as  close  together, 
or  as  far  asunder,  as  he  chooses.  He 
stands  with  his  legs  apart,  his  body  quite 
upright,  looking  down  good  humouredly 
on  his  crouching  opponent. — In  this  in- 
stance, his  opponent  Warren,  a  miner, 
was  a  man  of  superior  size,  and  of  amazing 
strength,  not  so  well  distributed  however, 
throughout  his  frame  ;  his  arms  and  body 
being  too  lengthy  in  proportion  to  their 
bulk.  His  visage  was  harsh  beyond  mea- 
sure, and  he  did  not  disdain  to  use  a  little 
craft  with  eye  and  hand,  in  order  to  dis- 
tract his  adversary's  attention.  But  he 
had  to  deal  with  a  man  as  collected  as 
ever  entered  the  ring.  Cann  put  in  his 
hand  as  quietly  as  if  he  were  going  to 
seize  a  shy  horse,  and  at  length  caught  a 
slight  hold  between  finger  and  thumb  of 
Warren's  sleeve.  At  this,  Warren  flung 
away  with  the  impetuosity  of  a  surprised 
horse.  But  it  was  in  vain ;  there  was  no 
escape  from  Cann's  pinch,  so  the  miner 
seized  his  adversary  in  his  turn,  and  at 
length  both  of  them  grappled  each  other 
by  the  arm  and  breast  of  the  jacket.  In 
a  trice  Cann  tripped  his  opponent  with 
the  toe  in  a  most  scientific  but  ineffectual 
manner,  throwing  him  clean  to  the  ground, 
but  not  on  his  back,  as  required.  The 
second  heat  began  similarly,  Warren 
stooped  more,  so  as  to  keep  his  legs  out 
of  Cann's  reach,  who  punished  him  for  it 
by  several  kicks  below  the  knee,  which 
must  have  told  severely  if  his  shoes  had 
been  on,  according  to  his  county's  fashion. 
They  shook  each  other  rudely — strained 
knee  to  knee — forced  each  other's  shoul- 
ders down,  so  as  to  overbalance  the  body 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  20. 


1340 


— but  all  ineffectually. — They  seemed  to 
be  quite  secure  from  each  other's  efforts, 
as  long  as  they  but  held  by  the  arm  and 
breast-collar,  as  o-dinary  wrestlers  do.  A 
new  grip  was  to  be  effected.  Cann  libe- 
rated one  arm  of  his  adversary  to  seize 
him  by  the  cape  behind  :  at  that  instant 
Warren,  profiling  by  his  inclined  posture, 
and  his  long  arms,  threw  himself  round 
the  body  of  the  Devon  champion,  and 
fairly  lifted  him  a  foot  from  the  ground, 
clutching  him  in  his  arms  with  the  grasp 
of  a  second  Anteaeus. — The  Cornish  men 
shouted  aloud,  "Well  done,  Warren!" 
to  their  hero,  whose  naturally  pale  visage 
glowed  with  the  hope  of  success.  He 
seemed  to  have  his  opponent  at  his  will, 
and  to  be  fit  to  fling  him,  as  Hercules 
flung  Lycas,  any  how  he  pleased.  De- 
vonshire then  trembled  for  its  champion, 
and  was  mute.  Indeed  it  was  a  moment 
of  heart-quaking  suspense.— -But  Cann 
was  not  daunted ;  his  countenance  ex- 
pressed anxiety,  but  not  discomfiture.  He 
was  off  terra-firma,  clasped  in  the  em- 
brace of  a  powerful  man,  who  waited  but 
a  single  struggle  of  his,  to  pitch  him  more 
effectually  from  him  to  the  ground. — 
Without  straining  to  disengage  himself, 
Cann  with  unimaginable  dexterity  glued 
his  back  firmly  to  his  opponent's  chest, 
lacing  his  feet  round  the  other's  knee- 
joints,  and  throwing  one  arm  backward 
over  Warren's  shoulder,  so  as  to  keep  his 
own  enormous  shoulders  pressed  upon 
the  breast  of  his  uplifter.  In  this  posi- 
tion they  stood  at  least  twenty  seconds, 
each  labouring  in  one  continuous  strain, 
to  bend  the  other,  one  backwards,  the 
other  forwards. — Such  a  struggle  could 
not  last.  Warren,  with  the  weight  of  the 
other  upcr.  his  stomach  and  chest,  and  an 
inconceivable  stress  upon  his  spine,  felt 
his  balance  almost  gone,  as  the  energetic 
movements  of  his  countenance  indicated. 
— His  feet  too  were  motionless  by  the 
coil  of  his  adversary's  legs  round  his  ;  so 
to  save  himself  from  falling  backwards, 
he  stiffened  his  whole  body  from  the 
ankles  upwards,  and  these  last  being  the 
only  liberated  joints,  he  inclined  forwards 
from  them,  so  as  to  project  both  bodies, 
and  prostrate  them  in  one  column  to  the 
ground  together. — It  was  like  the  slow 
and  poising  fall  of  an  undermined  tower. 
— You  had  time  to  contemplate  the  in- 
jury which  Cann  the  undermost  would 
sustain  if  they  fell  in  that  solid,  unbend- 
ing posture  to  the  earth.  But  Cann 
ceased  bearing  upon  the  spine  as  soon  as 


he  found  his  supporter  going  in  an  ad- 
verse direction.  With  a  presence  of  mind 
unrateable,  he  relaxed  his  strain  upon  one 
of  his  adversary's  stretched  legs,  forcing 
the  other  outwards  with  all  the  might  ot 
his  foot,  and  pressing  his  elbow  upon  the 
opposite  shoulder.  This  was  sufficient  to 
whisk  his  man  undermost  the  instant  he 
unstiffened  his  knee — which  Warren  did 
not  do  until  more  than  half  way  to  the 
ground,  when  from  the  acquired  rapidity 
of  the  falling  bodies  nothing  was  discerni- 
ble.— At  the  end  of  the  fall,  Warren  was 
seen  sprawling  on  his  back,  and  Cann 
whom  he  had  liberated  to  save  himself, 
had  been  thrown  a  few  yards  off  on  all- 
fours.  Of  course  the  victory  should  have 
been  adjudged  to  this  last.  When  the 
partial  referree  was  appealed  to,  he  de- 
cided, that  it  was  not  a  fair  fall,  as  only 
one  shoulder  had  bulged  the  ground, 
though  there  was  evidence  on  the  back  of 
Warren  that  both  had  touched  it  pretty 
rudely. — After  much  debating  a  new  re- 
ferree yras  appointed,  and  the  old  one 
expelled ;  when  the  candidates  ag-ain 
entered  the  lists.  The  crowning  beauty 
of  the  whole  was,  that  the  second  fall 
was  precisely  a  counterpart  of  the  other. 
Warren  made  the  same  move,  only  lifting 
his  antagonist  higher,  with  a  view  to 
throw  the  upper  part  of  his  frame  out  of 
play.  Cann  turned  himself  exactly  in 
the  same  manner  using  much  greater 
effort  than  before,  and  apparently  more 

fut  to  it,  by  his  opponent's  great  strength. 
lis  share,  however,  In  upsetting  his  sup- 
porter was  greater  this  time,  as  he  relaxed 
one  leg  much  sooner,  and  adhered  closet 
to  the  chest  during  the  fall ;  for  at  the 
close  he  was  seen  uppermost,  still  coiled 
round  his  supine  adversary,  who  admitted 
the  fall,  starting  up,  and  offering  his  hand 
to  the  victor.  He  is  a  good  wrestler  too 
— so  good,  that  we  much  question  the 
authority  of  "  The  Times,"  for  saying  that 
he  is  not  one  of  the  crack  wrestlers  of 
Cornwall. — From  his  amazing  strength, 
with  common  skill  he  should  be  a  first- 
rate  man  at  this  play,  but  his  skill  is 
much  greater  than  his  countrymen  seemed 
inclined  to  admit. — Certain  it  is,  they 
destined  him  the  first  prize,  and  had  Cann 
not  come  up  to  save  the  honour  of  his 
county,  for  that  was  his  only  inducement, 
the  four  prizes,  by  judiciously  matching 
the  candidates,  would  no  doubt  havt 
been  given  to  natives  of  Cornwall. 


1341 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  20. 


1342 


BLACKFORD,  THE  BACKSWORD  PLAYER. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — Your  correspondent  C.  T.  p.  1207, 
having  given  a  description  of  "  Purton 
Fair,"  my  grandmother  and  father  born 
there,  the  birth-place  of  Anne  Boleyn,  I 
feel  interested  in  the  spot  of  my  progeni- 
tors. C.  T.,  speaking  of  old  "  Corey 
Dyne,"  the  gipsy,  says  a  man  named  Black- 
ford  was  the  most  noted  Backsword- 
player  of  his  day.  He  bore  off  the  prizes 
then  played  for  in  London,  Bath,  Bristol, 
and  Gloucester.  When  very  young,  at 
Lyneham  grammar-school,  I  recollect 
this  frontispiece  despoiler  broke  fourteen 
heads,  one  after  another ;  in  the  fifteenth 
bout,  however,  he  pretty  nearly  found 
his  match  in  the  person  of  Isaac  Bushel, 
a  blacksmith  of  this  place,  who  could 
bite  a  nail  asunder,  eat  a  shoulder  of  mut- 
ton with  appendages,  or  fight  friend  or 
foe  for  love  or  money.  It  was  a  saying, 
"  Bushel  could  take  enough  to  kill  a 
dozen  men ;"  nor  was  his  head  unlike  his 
name  :  he  was  the  village  Wat  Tyler. 

When  the  Somerset  youths  played  with 
the  Wiltshire  on  a  stage  on  Calne-green, 
two  years  since,  one  of  Blackford's  des- 
cendants gave  a  feeling  proof  of  head- 
breaking  with  other  heads  of  this  blood- 
letting art,  in  which  stratagem  is  used  to 
conceal  the  crimson  gush  chiefly  by  suck- 
ing. Like  fencing,  attitude  and  agility 
are  the  great  assistants  to  ensure  success 
in  backsword-playing ;  the  basket  is  also 
of  great  service  to  the  receiving  of  blows, 
and  protecting  the  muscles  of  the  wrist. 
The  greatest  exploits  remembered  at  Pur- 


ton  by  the  present  memorialist,  arose 
out  of  the  "  Coronation  of  George  the 
Third."  All  the  festivities  of  the  seasons 
were  concentrated,  and  May  games  and 
Christmas  customs,  without  regard  to 
usage,  in  full  exercise.  The  belfry  was 
filled  day  after  day ;  any  one  that  could 
pull  a  rope  might  ring,  which  is  no  easy 
task ;  the  bells  are  deep,  and  two  or  three 
men  usually  raise  the  tenor.  Some  of  the 
Blackfords  lie  in  Purton  churchyard 
October  5.  *,  *,  P. 

The  autumnal  dress  of  a  man  in  the 
fourteenth  century  is  introduced,  from  the 
transcript  of  an  illumination,  in  a  manu- 
script which  supplied  the  Spring  and  Sum- 
mer dress  of  that  age,  before  presented. 


And  here  as  suitable  to  the  season  may 
be  subjoined  some  lines  by  a  correspond- 
ent. 


AUTUMNAL  FEELINGS. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  flowers  are  gone,  the  trees  are  bare, 
There  is  a  chillness  in  the  air, 
A  damp  that  in  the  spirit  sinks, 
Till  the  shudd'ring  heart  within  me  shrinks 
Cold  and  slow  the  clouds  roll  past, 
And  wat'ry  drops  come  with  the  blast 
That  moans,  amid  the  poplars  tall, 
A  dirge  for  the  summer's  funeral. 

Every  bird  to  his  home  has  gone, 
Save  one  that  loves  to  sing  alone 
The  robin; — in  yon  ruin'd  tree 
He  warbles  sweetly,  mournfully 
His  shrill  note  comes  upon  the  wind, 
Like  a  sound  of  an  unearthly  kind ; 
He  mourns  the  loss  of  his  sunny  bowers, 
And  the  silent  haunts  of  happy  hours. 


1343  THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  21,  22.  1344 

There  he  sits  like  a  desolate  thing, 

With  a  dabbled  breast  and  a  dripping  wing, 

He  has  seen  his  latent  joys  decline, 

Yet  his  heart  is  lighter  far  than  mine  ; 

His  task  is  o'er — his  duty  done, 

His  strong-win g'd  race  on  the  wind  have  gone, 

He  has  nothing  left  to  brood  upon ; 

He  has  still  the  hope  of  a  friendly  crumb 

When  the  wintry  snow  over  earth  shall  come, 

And  a  shelter  from  the  biting  wind, 

And  the  welcome  looks  of  faces  kind. 

I  wander  here  amid  the  blast, 

And  a  dreary  look  I  backward  cast; 

The  best  of  my  years  I  feel  are  fled, 

And  I  look  to  the  coming  time  with  dread 

My  heart  in  a  desert  land  has  been, 

Where  the  flower  of  hope  alone  was  green  ; 

And  little  in  life's  decline  have  I 

To  expect  from  kindred's  sympathy. 

Like  the  leaves  now  whirl'd  from  yonder  spray, 

The  dreams  I  have  cherish'd  day  by  day, 

On  the  wings  of  sorrow  pass  away. 

Yet  I  despair  not — time  will  bring 
To  the  plumeless  bird  a  new  bright  wing, 
A  warmer  breeze  to  the  now  chill'd  flower, 
And  to  those  who  mourn  a  lighter  hour; 
•     A  gay  green  leaf  to  the  faded  tree, 
And  happier  days,  I  trust,  to  me. 
'Twas  best  that  the  weeds  of  sorrow  sprung 
With  my  heart's  few  flowers,  while  yet  'twas  young, 
They  can  the  sooner  be  destroy 'd, 
And  happiness  fill  their  dreary  void.  S.  R.  J. 

NALURALISTS'  CALENDAR.  skill   equally    conspicuous    and  extraor- 

Mean  Temperature  ....  50  .  77.  dinary  ;  who,  in  consequence  of  these  rare 

•  endowments,  never  led  on  our  fleets  to 

.jfv  x.    r^       Q  |  battle  that  he  did  not  conquer ;  and  whose 

<!pf.UJlJ*r  Jtl.  name  was  a  tower  of  strength  to  England, 

r>  m  and  a  terror  to  her  foes."* 

BATTLE  OF  TRAFALGAR. 

In   a  dreadful    engagement   off  Cape  NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Trafalgar,  on  the  21st  of  October,  1805,  Mean  Temperature  ...  50  •  62. 
between  the  English  fleet,  consisting-  of 
twenty-seven   sail  of  the  line  and  four 
frigates,  and  the  combined  fleets  of  France 
and  Spain,  consisting  of  thirty-three  sail  CHILD  PLAYED  FOR. 
and    seven    frigates,   which    lasted   four  In  October,  1735,  a  child  of  James  and 
hours,   twenty   sail  of  the   enemy  were  Elizabeth  Leesh,  of  Chester-le-street,  in 
unk  or  destroyed,  and  the  French  com-  the  county  of  Durham,  was  played  for  at 
rnander-in-chief,     (admiral    Villeneuve,)  cards,  at  the  sign  of  the  Salmon,  one 
with   two  Spanish  admirals,  were  made  game,  four  shillings  against  the  child,  by 
prisoners.       The     gallant     Nelson    was  Henry  and  John  Trotter,  Robert  Thorn- 
wounded  about  the  middle  of  the  action,  son,  and  Thomas  Ellison,  which  was  won 
and  died  nearly  at  its  close. — "  Thus  ter-  by   the   latter,   and   delivered    to    them 
initiated  the  brilliant  career  of  our  peer-  accordingly.f 
less  NAVAL  HERO,  who  was,  beyond  dis- 
pute,  preeminent    in  courage,  in  u  de-  NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
partment  of  the  British  service  where  all  Mean  Temperature  ...  49  •  97. 
our  countrymen  are  proverbially  cour?.t:e- 
ous:  who/to  unrivalled  courage,  united 


1345 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  22. 


1346 


Station  at  f)awra& 


CAESAR'S  CAMP,  CALLED  THE  BRILL. 


"OL.  II.— 95. 


1317 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOv. K.— OCTOBER  22. 


1343 


ROMAN  REMAINS  AT  PANCRAS. 

A  former  notice  of  some  antiquities  in 
this  vicinity,  seems  to  have  occasioned  the 
subjoined  article  on  similar  remains.  Its 
initials  will  be  recognised  as  those  of  a 
correspondent,  whose  communications 
have  been  acceptable,  and  read  with  in- 
terest. 

ROMAN  REMAINS  AT  PANCRAS. 

SIR, — In  the  ninetieth  number  of  your 
Every-Day  Book,  (the  present  volume, 
col.  1197-1204,)  a  very  interesting  article 
appeared  on  the  subject  of  the  Roman 
remains  near  Pentonville,  and  thinking 
you  may  be  inclined  to  acquaint  your 
readers  with  "  Caesar's  Camp"  at  St. 
Pancras,  situate  near  the  old  church, 
which  are  likely  in  the  course  of  a  short 
time  to  be  entirely  destroyed  by  the  rage 
for  improvement  in  that  neighbourhood, 
I  forward  you  the  following  particulars. 

The  only  part  at  present  visible  is  the 
praetorium  of  Caesar,  which  may  be  seen 
in  the  drawing  that  accompanies  this, 
but  the  ditch  is  now  nearly  filled  up.  I 
visited  the  spot  about  a  week  ago,  and 
can  therefore  vouch  for  its  existence  up 
to  that  time,  but  every  thing  around  it  be- 
gins to  bear  a  very  different  aspect  to  what 
it  did  about  two  years  back,  when  my  at- 
tention was  particularly  called  to  the  spot 
from  having  read  Dr.  Stukeley's  remarks 
on  the  subject.  At  that  time  I  was  able 
to  trace  several  other  vestiges,  which  are 
entirely  destroyed  by  the  ground  having 
been  since  dug  up  for  the  purpose  of 
making  bricks. 

The  following  extracts  are  taken  from 
the  second  volume  of  Dr.  Stukeley's 
"  Itinerary."  The  plan  of  the  camp  is 
taken  from  the  same  work.  I  shall  feel 
pleasure  if  you  will  call  attention  to  it,  as 
you  have  already  to  the  Roman  remains 
at  Pentonville. 

I  am,  Sir,  yours  respectfully, 

S.  G. 

October  9,  1826. 


DR.  STUKELEY'S  ACCOUNT  OF  CJESAR'S 
CAMP. 

October,  1758. 

Caesar's  camp  was  situate  where  Pan- 
cras church  is — his  praetorium  is  still  very 
plain — over  against  the  church,  in  the 
footpath  on  the  west  side  of  the  brook  ; 
the  vallum  and  the  ditch  visible;  its 
breadth  from  east  to  west  forty  paces,  its 
length  from  north  to  south  sixty  paces. 


When  I  came  attentively  to  consider  the 
situation  of  it,  and  the  circumjacent 
ground,  I  easily  discerned  the  traces  of 
his  whole  camp.  A  great  many  ditches  or 
divisions  of  the  pastures  retain  footsteps 
of  the  plan  of  the  camp,  agreeable  to  their 
usual  form,  as  in  the  plate  engraved ;  and 
whenever  I  take  a  walk  thither,  I  enjoy  a 
visionary  scene  of  the  whole  camp  of 
Caesar  as  described  in  the  plate  before  us ; 
a  scene  just  as  if  beheld,  and  Caesar 
present. 

His  army  consisted  of  forty  thousand 
men.  Four  legions  with  his  horse.  The 
camp  is  in  length  five  hundred  paces — the 
thirty  paces  beyond,  for  the  way  between 
the  tents  and  vallum,  (where  a  vallum  is 
made,)  amounts  to  five  hundred  and  sixty; 
so  that  the  proportion  of  length  to  breadth 
is  as  three  to  two. 

This  space  of  ground  was  sufficient  for 
Caesar's  army  according  to  Roman  dis- 
cipline, for  if  he  had  forty  thousand  men, 
a  third  part  of  them  were  upon  guard. 

The  front  of  the  camp  is  bounded 
by  a  spring  with  a  little  current  of  water 
running  from  the  west,  across  the  Brill, 
into  the  Fleet  brook.  This  Brill  was  the 
occasion  of  the  road  directly  from  the 
city,  originally  going  alongside  the  brook 
by  Bagnigge ;  the  way  to  Highgate  being 
at  first  by  Copenhagen-house,  which  is 
straight  road  thither  from  Gray's-inn-lane. 

This  camp  has  the  brook  running  quite 
through  the  middle  of  it :  it  arises  from 
seven  springs  on  the  south  side  of  the 
hill  between  Hampstead  and  Highgate  by 
Caen  wood,  where  it  forms  several  large 
ponds,  passes  by  here  by  the  name  of 
Fleet,  washes  the  west  side  of  the  city  of 
London,  and  gives  name  to  Fleet-street. 
This  brook  was  formerly  called  the  river 
of  wells,  from  the  many  springs  above, 
which  our  ancestors  called  wells ;  and  it 
may  be  thought  to  have  been  more  con- 
siderable in  former  times  than  at  present, 
for  now  the  major  part  of  its  water  is  car- 
ried off  in  pipes  to  furnish  Kentish-town, 
Panrras,  and  Tottenham-court ;  but  even 
now  in  great  rains  the  valley  is  covered  over 
with  water.  Go  a  quarter  of  a  mile  higher 
towards  Kentish-town  and  you  may  have 
a  just  notion  of  its  appearance  at  that 
place,  only  with  this  difference,  that  it  is 
there  broader  and  deeper  from  the  current 
of  so  many  years.  It  must  further  be  con- 
sidered that  the  channel  of  this  brook 
through  so  many  centuries,  and  by  its 
being  made  the  public  north  road  from 
London  to  Highgate,  is  very  much  lowered 


1349 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  23. 


1350 


and  widened  since  Caesar's  time.  It  was 
then  no  sort  of  embarrassment  to  the 
camp,  but  an  admirable  convenience  for 
watering,  being  contained  in  narrow 
banks  not  deep.  The  breadth  and  length 
are  made  by  long  tract  of  time.  The  an- 
cient road  by  Copenhagen  wanting  repair, 
induced  passengers  to  make  this  gravelly 
valley  become  much  larger  than  in 
Caesar's  time.  The  old  division  runs 
along  that  road  between  Finsbury  and 
Holborn  division,  going  in  a  straight  line 
from  Gray's-inn-lane  to  Highgate  :  its  an- 
tiquity is  shown  in  its  name — Madan- 
lane. 

The  recovery  of  this  noble  antiquity 
will  give  pleasure  to  a  British  antiquary , 
especially  an  inhabitant  of  London, 
whereof  it  is  a  singular  glory.  It  renders 
the  walk  over  the  beautiful  fields  to  the 
Brill  doubly  agreeable,  when  at  half  a  mile 
distance  we  can  tread  in  the  very  steps 
of  the  Roman  camp  master,  and  of  the 
greatest  of  the  Roman  generals. 

We  need  not  wonder  that  the  traces  of 
tms  camp  so  near  the  metropolis  are  so 
nearly  worn  out ;  we  may  rather  wonder 
that  so  much  is  left,  when  a  proper  saga- 
city in  these  matters  may  discern  them, 
and  be  assured  that  somewhat  more  than 
three  or  four  sorry  houses  are  commemor- 
ated under  the  name  of  the  Brill,  (now 
called  Brill-place-Terrace  ;)  nor  is  it  un- 
worthy of  remark,  as  an  evident  confirma- 
tion of  our  system,  that  all  the  ditches 
and  fences  now  upon  the  ground,  have  a 
manifest  respect  to  the  principal  members 
of  the  original  plan  of  the  camp. 

In  this  camp  Caesar  made  the  two 
British  kings  friends — Casvelham  and  his 
nephew  Mandubrace. 

I  judge  I  have  performed  my  promise 
in  giving  an  account  of  this  greatest 
curiosity,  so  illustrious  a  monument  of 
the  greatest  of  the  Roman  generals,  which 
has  withstood  the  waste  of  time  foi  more 
than  eighteen  centuries,  and  passed  un- 
noticed but  half  a  mile  off  the  metropolis. 
I  shall  only  add  this  observation,  that 
when  I  came  to  survey  this  plot  of  ground 
to  make  a  map  of  it  by  pacing,  1  found 
every  where  even  and  great  numbers,  and 
what  I  have  often  formerly  observed  in 
Roman  works ;  whence  we  may  safely 
affirm  the  Roman  camp  master  laid  out 
his  works  by  pacing.* 

With  the  hope  that  the  preceding  ar- 


ticle may  draw  attention  to  the  subject, 
the  editor  defers  remark  till  he  has  been 
favoured  with  communications  from  other 
hands. 


THE  ANTIQUARY. 

The  following  lines  were  written  by  an 
old  and  particular  friend  of  the  erudite 
individual  who  received  them  : — 

To  RICHARD  GOUGH,  ESQ. 
O  tu   severi  Religio   loci  I 

Hail,  genius  of  this  littered  study  ! 

Or  tell  what  name  you  most  delight  in 
For  sure  where  all  the  ink  is  muddy, 

And  no  clean  margin  left  to  write  in, 

No  common  deity  resides. 
We  see,  we  feel  thy  power  divine, 

In  every  tattered  folio's  dust. 
Each  mangled  manuscript  is  thine, 

And  thine  the  antique  helmet's  rust. 

Nor  less  observed  thy  power  presides 
Where  plundered  brasses  crowd  the  floor, 

Or  dog's-eared  drawings  burst  their  binding 
Hid  by  Confusion's  puzzling  door 

Beyond  the  reach  of  mortal  finding. 
Than  if  beneath  a  costly  roof 

Each  moulding  edged  by  golden  fillet, 
The  Russian  binding,  insect  proof, 

Blushed  at  the  foppery  of  

Give  me,  when  tired  by  dust  and  sun, 

If  rightly  I  thy  name  invoke, 
The  bustle  of  the  town  to  shun, 

And  breathe  unvext  by  city  smoke. 
But,  ah  !  if  from  these  cobvvebbed  walls. 

And  from  this  moth -embroidered  cushion, 
Too  fretful  Fortune  rudely  calls, 

Resolved  the  cares  of  life  to  push  on — 
Give  me  at  least  to  pass  my  ago 

At  ease  in  some  book-tapestried  cell, 
Where  I  may  turn  the  pictured  page, 

Nor  start  at  visitants'  loud  bell.* 


ST.  SUEIN. 

St.  Surin,  or  St.  Severin,  which  is  his 
proper  name,  is  a  saint  held  in  greaf 
veneration  at  Bordeaux ;  he  is  considered 
as  one  of  the  great  patrons  of  the  town. 
It  was  his  native  place,  but  he  deserted 
it  for  a  time  to  go  and  preach  the  gospel 
at  Cologne.  When  he  returned,  St. 
Amand,  then  bishop  of  Bordeaux,  went 
out  with  a  solemn  procession  of  the  clergy 
to  meet  him,  and,  as  he  had  been  warned 
to  do  in  a  vision,  resigned  his  bishopric 
to  him,  which  St.  Surin  continued  to  enjoy 


•  Dr.  Stukeley's  Itinerary. 


*  Dr.  Fort  ter's  Pereunial  Calendar. 


1 35 1 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  24. 


1352 


as  long  as  he  lived.  St.  Amand  con- 
tinued at  Bordeaux  as  a  private  person  ; 
but  surviving  St.  Surin,  he  was  a  his 
death  restored  to  the  station  from  which 
he  had  descended  with  so  much  gentleness 
and  resignation.  It  is  among  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  church  of  St.  Surin  at 
Bordeaux,  that  the  cemetery  belonging  to 
it  was  "  consecrated  by  Jesus  Christ  him- 
self, accompanied  by  seven  bishops,  who 
were  afterwards  canonized,  and  were  the 


founders    of  the    principal   churches    in 
Aquitaine."* 


On  an  oval  marble  in  Egham  church, 
Surrey,  are  the  following  lines  written  by 
David  Garrick,  to  the  memory  of  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Thomas  Beighton  who 
was  vicar  of  that  church  forty-five  years, 
and  died  on  the  23d  of  October,  1771, 
aged  73. 


EPITAPH. 

Near  half  an  age,  with  every  good  man's  praise, 
Among  his  flock  the  shepherd  passed  his  days ; 
The  friend,  the  comfort,  of  the  sick  and  poor, 
Want  never  knock'd  unheeded  at  his  door. 
Oft  when  his  duty  call'd,  disease  and  pain 
Strove  to  confine  him,  but  they  strove  in  vain. 
All  mourn  his  death  :  his  virtues  long  they  try'd  : 
They  knew  not  how  they  lov'd  him  till  he  died. 
Peculiar  blessings  did  his  life  attend  : 
He  had  no  foe,  and  Camden  was  his  friend. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Tern pei  ature  .  ...  48  •  00, 

24. 

AN  OCTOBER  SUNDAY  MORNING 

IN  COCKNEYSIIIRE. 

For  the  Every- Day  Book. 

"Vat's  the  time,  Villiam  ?" 

"  Kevarter  arler  seven." 

The  "  Mirror  of  the  Months  "  seems  to 
reflect  every  object  to  the  reader's  eye  ;  but 
not  having  read  more  of  that  work  than  by 
extract,  in  the  Every-Day  Book,  I  think 
an  addendum,  par  hazard,  may  not  be 
without  truth  and  interest. 

Rise  early, — be  abroad, — and  after  you 
have  inspired  sufficient  fog  to  keep  you 
coughing  all  day,  you  will  see  Jewboys 
and  girls  with  their  fathers  and  mothers 
veering  forth  from  the  purlieus  of  Hounds- 
ditch  with  sweetmeats,  "  ten  a  penny  !" 
which  information  is  sung,  or  said,  ten 
thousand  times  before  sunset.  Now 
Irishmen,  (except  there  be  a  fight  in  Co- 
penhagen fields,)  and  women,  are  hurrying 
to  and  from  mass,  and  the  poorest  crea- 
tures sit  near  the  chapels,  with  all  their 
own  infants,  and  those  of  others,  to  excite 
pity,  and  call  down  the  morning  smile  of 
charity. — Now  newsboys  come  along  the 
Strand  with  damp  sheets  of  intelligence 
folded  under  their  arms  in  a  greasy,  dirty 
piece  of  thick  (once)  brown  paper,  or  a 


suitable  envelope  of  leather.  Now  water- 
cress women,  or  rather  girls,  with  chubby 
babies  hanging  on  one  arm,  and  a  flat 
basket  suspended  from  the  shoulder  by  a 
strap,  stand  at  their  station-post,  near  the 
pump,  at  a  corner  of  the  street.f  Now 
mechanics  in  aprons,  with  unshorn,  un- 
washed faces,  take  their  birds,  dogs,  and 
pipes,  towards  the  fields,  which,  with  dif- 
ficulty, they  find.  Now  the  foot  and  horse- 
guards  are  preparing  for  parade  in  the 
parks — coaches  are  being  loaded  by  pas- 
sengers, dressed  for  "  a  few  miles  out  of 
town" — the  doors  of  liquor-shops  are  in 
motion — prayers  at  St.  Paul's  and  West- 
minster are  responded  by  choristers, — 
crowds  of  the  lower  orders  create  discord 
by  the  interference  of  the  officious  street- 
keeper — and  the  "Angel "  and  "Elephant 
and  Castle"  are  surrounded  by  jaunty 
company,  arriving  and  departing  with 
horses  reeking  before  the  short  and  long 
stage  coaches. — Now  the  pious  missionary 
drops  religious  tracts  in  the  local  stands 
of  hackney  coachmen,  and  paths  leading 
to  the  metropolis — Now  nuts  and  walnuts 
slip-shelled  are  heaped  in  a  basket  with 
some  dozens  of  the  finest  cracked,  placed 
at  the  top,  as  specimens  of  the  whole  : — 
bullace,  bilberries,  sliced  cocoa-nuts,  ap- 
ples, pears,  damsons,  blackberries,  and 
oranges  are  glossed  and  piled  for  sale  so 

*  Miss  PInmptre. 

t  This  is  the  o;ily  mouth,  in.. the  year  in  which 
water-trt-ssts  are  without  spawp. 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER 


1353 

imposingly,  that  no  eye  can  escape  them. 
— Now  fruiterers'  and  druggists'  windows, 
like  six  days'  mourning,  are  half  shut- 
tered.— Now  the  basket  and  bell  pass 
your  house  with  muffins  and  crumpets.* — 
Placards  are  hung  from  newsvenders',  at 
whose  taking  appearances,  gossips  stand 
to  learn  the  fate  of  empires,  during  the 
lapse  of  hebdomadal  warfare.— Now  beg- 
gars carry  the  broom,  and  the  great  tho- 
roughfares are  in  motion,  and  geese  and 
game  are  sent  to  the  rich,  and  the  poor 
cheapen  at  the  daring  butcher's  shop,  for 
a  scrag  of  mutton  to  keep  company  in  the 
pot  with  the  carrots  and  turnips.— Now 
the  Israelites'  little  sheds  are  clothed  with 
apparel,  near  which  "  a  Jew's  eye "  is 
watching  to  catch  the  wants  of  the  neces- 
sitous that  purchase  at  second-hand. — 
Now  eels  are  sold  in  sand  at  the  bridges, 
and  steam-boats  loiter  about  wharfs  and 
stairs  to  take  up  stray  people  for  Rich- 
mond and  the  Eel-pie  house. — The  pe- 
destrian advocate  now  unbags  his  sticks 
and  spreads  them  in  array  against  a  quiet, 
"but  public  wall. — Chesnuts  are  just  com- 
ing in,  and  biscuits  and  cordials  are 
handed  amongst  the  coldstreams  relieving 
guard  at  Old  Palace  Yard,  where  the 
bands  play  favourite  pieces  enclosed  by 
ranks  and  files  of  military  men,  and 
crowds  of  all  classes  and  orders. — JNow 
the  bells  are  chiming  for  church, — dis- 
senters and  methodists  are  hastening  to 
worship — baker's  counters  are  being  co- 
vered with  laden  dishes  and  platters — 
quakers  are  silently  seated  in  their  meet- 
ings,— and  a  few  sailors  are  surveying  the 
stupendous  dome  of  St.  Paul's,  under 
which  the  cathedral  service  is  performing 
on  the  inside  of  closed  iron  gates. — Now 
the  beadle  searches  public-houses  with 
the  blinds  let  down.— Now  winter  pat- 
terns, great  coats,  tippets,  muffs,  cloaks 
and  pelisses  are  worn,  and  many  a  thinly- 
clad  carmelite  shivers  along  the  streets. 
With  many  variations,  the  "  Sunday  Morn- 
ing'' passes  away ;  and  then  artizans  are 
returning  from  their  rustication,  and  ser- 
vants are  waiting  with  cloths  on  their  arms 
for  the  treasures  of  the  oven — people  are 


•  In  Bath, before  Sally  Luwns  were  so  fashionable, 
(their   origin    1   shall  shortly  acquaint  you   with) 
vtiiffint  were  cned  with  a  song,  beginning — 
"  I>on't  you  know  the  muffin  man  ? 

Don't  you  know  his  name  ? 
And  don''t  you  know  the  muffin-man 
That  lives  in  Bridewell-lane  ?  &c." 
1  reply,  yes,  1  did  know  him,  and  a  facetious  little 
•hort  fellow  he  was,  with  a  face  as  pocked  as  his 
crumpets;  but  his  civility  gained  him  friends  and 
competence,  -virtue's  ju*t  rt'/ard. 


seeking  home  from  divine  worship  witb 
appetites  and  purple  noses  —  •-  beer  !  '  is 
echoed  in  every  circle,  —  and  post  meridian 
assumes  new  features,  as  gravities  ana 
gaieties,  in  proportion  to  the  weather,  in- 
fluence the  cosmopolitan  thermometer. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  48  •  47. 


CRISPIN. 

On  this,  the  festival  day  of  St.  Crispin, 
enough  has  been  already  said*  to  show 
that  it  is  the  great  holyday  of  the  numer- 
ous brotherhood  of  cordwainers.  The 
latter  name  they  derive  from  their  work- 
ing in  Spanish  leather  manufactured  at 
Cordovan  ;  their  cordovan-ing  has  softened 
down  into  cordwaining 


SHOE*    AND    BUCKLES. 

The  business  of  a  shoemaker  is  of  great 
antiquity.  The  instrument  for  cleaning 
hides,  the  shoemaker's  bristles  added  to 
the  yarn,  and  his  knife,  were  as  early  as 
the  twelfth  century.  He  was  accus'omed 
to  hawk  his  goods,  and  it  is  conjectured 
that  there  was  a  separate  trade  for  an- 
nexing the  soles.f  The  Romans  in  classi- 
cal times,  wore  cork  soles  in  their  shoes 
to  secure  the  feet  from  water,  especially 
in  winter;  and  as  high  heels  were  no 
then  introduced,  the  Roman  ladies  who 
wished  to  appear  taller  than  they  had 
been  formed  by  nature,  put  plenty  of  cork 
under  them,};  The  streets  of  Rome  in  the 
time  of  Domitian  were  blocked  up  by 
cobblers'  stalls,  which  he  therefore  caused 
to  be  removed.  In  the  middle  ages  shoes 
were  cleaned  by  washing  with  a  sponge  ; 
and  oil,  soap,  and  grease,  were  the  substi- 
tutes for  blacking.  Buckles  were  worn 
in  shoes  in  the  fourteenth  century.  In  an 
Irish  abbey  a  human  skeleton  was  found 
with  marks  of  buckles  on  the  shoes.  In 
England  they  became  fashionable  many 
years  before  the  reign  of  queen  Mary  ; 
the  labouring  people  wore  them  of  cop- 
per ;  other  persons  had  them  of  silver,  or 
copper-gilt  •  not  long  after  shoe-roses 
came  in.§  Buckles  revived  before  the 
revolution  of  1689  ,  remained  fashionable 


*  See  vol.  i.  col.  1395. 
t  Fosbroke'sEncy.  of 
1  Beckmann. 

*  Fosbroke. 


1355 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  26. 


1356 


till  after  the  French  revolution  in  1789; 
and  finally  .became  extinct  before  the  close 
of  the  eighteenth  century. 


In  Robert  Hegg's  "  Legend  of  St. 
Cuthbert,"  reprinted  at  the  end  of  Mr. 
Dixon's  "  Historical  and  Descriptive  View 
of  the  city  of  Durham  and  its  Environs," 
\ve  are  told  of  St.  Goodrick,  that  "  in  his 
younger  age  he  was  a  pedlar,  and  carried 
his  moveable  shop  from  fair  to  fair  upon 
his  back,"  and  used  to  visit  Lindisfarne, 
"  much  delighting  to  heare  the  monkes 
tell  wonders  of  St.  Cuthbert  ;  which  soe 
enflamed  his  devotion,  that  he  undertooke 
a  pilgrimage  to  the  holy  sepulchre  ;  and 
by  the  advice  of  St.  Cuthbert  in  a  dreame, 
repayred  againe  to  the  holy  land,  and 
washing  his  feete  in  Jordan,  there  left  his 
thoes,  with  a  vow  to  goe  barefoot  all  his 
life  after." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     ....  47  '  87. 


ROYAL  DEBTS. 

On  this  subject  a  curious  notice  is  ex- 
tracted from  "  the  Postman,  October  26- 
28,  1708"—  viz. 

Adertisement. 

THe  Creditors  of  King  Charles,  K. 
Jarnes,  and  R.  William,  having  found 
out  and  discovered  sufficient  Funds  for 
securing  a  perpetual  Interest  for  4  Mil- 
lions, without  burdening  the  people,  clog- 
ging the  Trade  or  impairing  the  Revenue; 
and  all  their  debts  not  amounting  to  near 
that  Sum;  the  more  to  strengthen  their 
interest,  and  to  find  the  greater  favour 
with  the  Parliament,  have  agreed  that  the 
Army  and  Transports  Debentures  and 
other  Parliament  Debts  may  if  they  please, 
joyn  with  them,  and  it  is  not  expected 
that  any  great  Debts  shall  pay  an}  Charge 
for  carrying  on  this  Act,  until  it  be  hap- 
pily accomplished,  and  no  more  will  be 
expected  afterwards  than  what  shall  be 
readily  agreed  to  before  hand,  neither 
shall  any  be  hindered  from  taking  any 
other  measures,  if  there  should  be  but  a 
suspicion  of  miscarriage,  which  is  impos- 
sible if  they  Unite  their  Interest.  They 
continue  to  meet  by  the  Parliament  Stairs 
in  Old  Palace-yard,  there  is  a  Note  on  the 
Door,  where  daily  attendance  is  given 


from  10  in  the  Morning  till  7  at  Night ; 
if  any  aie  not  apprehensive  of  the  cer- 
tainty of  the  Success,  they  may  come  and 
have  full  satisfaction,  that  they  may  have 
their  Money  if  they  will. 


NELSON 

The  notice  of  the  battle  wherein  this  il- 
illustrious  admiral  received  his  death- 
wound,  (on  the  21st,)  might  have  been 
properly  accompanied  by  the  following 
quotation  from  a  work  which  should  be 
put  into  the  chest  of  every  boy  on  his  going 
to  sea.  It  is  so  delightfully  written,  as  to 
rivet  the  attention  of  every  reader  whether 
mariner  or  landsman. 

"  The  death  of  Nelson  was  felt  in  Eng- 
land as  something  more  than  a  public 
calamity:  men  started  at  the  intelligence, 
and  turned  pale,  as  if  they  had  heard  of 
the  loss  of  a  dear  friend.  An  object  of 
our  admiration  and  affection,  of  our 
pride  and  of  our  hopes,  was  suddenly 
taken  from  us ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  we 
had  never,  till  then,  known  how  deeply 
we  loved  and  reverenced  him.  What  the 
country  had  lost  in  its  great  naval  hero—- 
the greatest  of  our  own,  and  of  all  former 
times — was  scarcely  taken  into  the  ac- 
count of  grief.  So  perfectly,  indeed,  had 
he  performed  his  part,  that  the  maritime 
war,  after  the  battle  of  Trafalgar,  was 
considered  at  an  end  :  the  fleets  of  the 
enemy  were  not  merely  defeated,  but 
destroyed  :  new  navies  must  be  built,  and 
a  new  race  of  seamen  reared  for  them, 
before  the  possibility  of  their  invading  our 
shores  could  again  be  contemplated.  It 
was  not,  therefore,  from  any  selfish  reflec- 
tion upon  the  magnitude  of  our  loss  that 
we  mourned  for  him  :  the  general  sorrow- 
was  of  a  higher  character.  The  people 
of  England  grieved  that  funeral  ceremo- 
nies, public  monuments,  and  posthumous 
rewards,  were  all  which  they  could  now 
bestow  upon  him,  whom  the  king,  the 
legislature,  and  the  nation,  would  alike 
have  delighted  to  honour ;  whom  every 
tongue  would  have  blessed  ;  whose  pres- 
ence in  every  village  through  which  he 
might  have  passed  would  have  awakened 
the  church  bells,  have  given  schoolboys 
a  holiday,  have  drawn  children  from  their 
sports  to  gaze  upon  him,  and  '  old  men 
from  the  chimney  corner'  to  look  upon 
Nelson,  ere  they  died.  The  victory  of 
Trafalgar  was  celebrated,  indeed,  with  the 
usual  forms  of  rejoicing,  but  they  were 
without  joy  ;  for  such  already  was  the 


1357 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  27,  28, 


1353 


glory  of  the  British  navy,  through  Nel- 
son's surpassing  genius,  that  it  scarcely 
seemed  to  receive  any  addition  from  the 
most  signal  victory  that  ever  was  achieved 
upon  the  seas  :  and  the  destruction  of  this 
mighty  fleet,  by  which  all  the  maritime 
schemes  of  France  were  totally  frustrated, 
hardly  appeared  to  add  to  our  security  or 
strength  ;  for  while  Nelson  was  living,  to 
watch  the  combined  squadrons  of  the 
enemy,  we  felt  ourselves  as  secure  as 
now,  when  they  were  no  longer  in  exist- 
ence.— There  was  reason  to  suppose,  from 
the  appearances  upon  opening  the  body, 
that,  in  the  course  of  nature,  he  might 
have  attained,  like  his  father,  to  a  good 
old  age.  Yet  he  cannot  be  said  to  have 
fallen  prematurely  whose  work  was  done  ; 
nor  ought  he  to  be  lamented,  who  died  so 
full  of  honours,  and  at  the  height  of  hu- 
man fame.  The  most  triumphant  death 
is 'that  of  the  martyr;  the  most  awful, 
that  of  the  martyred  patriot ;  the  most 
splendid,  that  of  the  hero  in  the  hour  of 
victory  :  and  if  the  chariot  and  the  horses 
of  fire  had  been  vouchsafed  for  Nelson's 
translation,  he  could  scarcely  have  de- 
Darted  in  a  bi  ighter  blaze  of  glory/'* 

NATURALIST'S  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature 48  •  25. 

©rtofter  27. 

FLEET  MARKET. 

On  the  27th  of  October,  1736,  Mr. 
Robinson  a  carpenter,  and  Mr  Medway 
a  bricklayer,  contracted  to  build  Fleet- 
market,  by  the  following  midsummer,  for 
3970f.f 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  47  •  50. 


Baked  Wardens — all  hot  I 
Who  knows  what  I  have  got?*' 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  46  •  30. 


October  28. 

(St.  Simon  and  St.  Jude.) 

«  WARDENS  !" 

A  correspondent  says,  that  about,  or 
before  this  time,  it  is  the  custom  at  Bed- 
ford, now  abouts,  for  boys  to  cry  baked 
pears  in  the  town  with  the  following 
•tanza — 

"  Who  knows  what  I  have  got  t 
In  a  pot  hot  ? 

•  Southey's  Life  of  Nelson, 
agazine. 


©ctober  29. 

CTOBER  IN  LONDON. 
On  looking  into  the  "  Mirror  of  the 
Months,"  we  find  "  a  lively  portraiture" 
of  the  season. — "  October  is  to  London 
what  April  is  to  the  country  ;  it  is  the 
spring  of  the  London  summer,  when  the 
hopes  of  the  shopkeeper  begin  to  bud 
forth,  and  he  lays  aside  the  insupportable 
labour  of  having  nothing  to  do,  for  the 
delightful  leisure  of  preparing  to  bfe-in  a 
perpetual' bustle.  During  the  last  month 
or  two  he  has  been  strenuously  endea- 
vouring to  persuade  himself  that  the 
Steyne  at  Brighton  is  as  healthy  as  Bond- 
street;  the  pavd  of  Pali  Mall  no  more 
picturesque  than  the  Pantiles  of  Tunbridge 
Wells  ;  and  winning  a  prize  at  one- card- 
loo  at  Margate,  as  piquant  a  process  as 
serving  a  customer  to  the  same  amount  of 
profit.  But  now  that  the  time  is  returned 
when  '  business'  must  again  be  attended 
to,  he  discards  with  contempt  all  such 
mischievous  heresies,  and  reembraces  the 
only  orthodox  faith  of  a  London  shop- 
keeper— that  London  and  his  shop  are 
the  true  '  beauteous  and  sublime'  of  hu- 
man life.  In  fact,  «  now  is  the  winter  of 
his  discontent'  (that  is  to  say,  what  other 
people  call  summer) '  made  glorious  sum- 
mer' by  the  near  approach  of  winter  ;  and 
all  the  wit  he  is  master  of  is  put  in  requi- 
sition, to  devise  the  means  of  proving  that 
every  thing  he  has  offered  to  '  his  friends 
the  public,'  up  to  this  particular  period, 
has  become  worse  than  obsolete.  Ac- 
cordingly, now  are  those  poets  of  the 
shopkeepers,  the  inventors  of  patterns, 
*  perplexed  in  the  extreme  ;  since,  unle?s 
they  can  produce  a  something  which  shall 
necessarily  supersede  all  their  previous 
productions,  their  occupation's  gone. — It 
is  the  same  with  all  other  caterers  for  the 
public  taste;  even  the  literary  ones.  Mr. 
Elliston,  for  his  fortunate  successor,  if  one 
there  be.]  '  ever  anxious  to  contribute  to 
the  amusement  of  his  liberal  patrons,  the 
public,'  is  already  busied  in  sowing  the 
seeds  of  a  new  tragedy,  two  operatic  ro- 
mances, three  grand  romantic  melo-dra- 
mas,  and  half  a  do/en  farces,  in  the  fertile 
soil  of  those  poets  whom  he  employs  it; 
each  of  these  departments  respectively ; 


1359 


THE  EVE11Y-DAY  BOOK.— OCTOBER  30,  31. 


1360 


while  each  of  the  London  publishers  is 
projecting  a  new  '  periodical,'  to  appear 
on  the  first  of  January  next ;  that  which 
he  started  on  the  first  of  last  January 
having,  of  course,  died  of  old  age  ere 
th;0»" 


this  !' 


BEGINNING  OF  "  FIRES.' 


In  October,  fires  have  fairly  gained 
possession  of  their  places,  and  even  greet 
us  on  coming  down  to  breakfast  in  the 
morning.  Of  all  the  discomforts  of  that 
most  comfortless  period  of  the  London 
year  which  is  neither  winter  nor  summer, 
the  most  unequivocal  is  that  of  its  being 
too  cold  to  be  without  a  fire,  and  not  cold 
enough  to  have  one.  A  set  of  polished 


fire-irons,  standing  sentry  beside  a  pile 
of  dead  coals  imprisoned  behind  a  row 
of  glittering  bars,  instead  of  mending 
the  matter,  makes  it  worse ;  inasmuch  as 
it  is  better  to  look  into  an  empty  coffin, 
than  to  see  the  dead  face  of  a  friend  in  it. 
At  the  season  in  question,  especially  in 
the  evening,  one  feels  in  a  perpetual  per- 
plexity, whether  to  go  out  or  stay  at  home ; 
sit  down  or  walk  about;  read,  write,  cast 
accounts,  or  call  for  the  candle  and  go  to 
bed.  But  let  the  fire  be  lighted,  and  all 
uncertainty  is  at.  an  end,  and  we  (or  even 
one)  may  do  any  or  all  of  these  with  equiil 
satisfaction.  In  short,  light  but  the  fire, 
and  you  bring  the  winter  in  at  once;  and 
what  are  twenty  summers,  with  all  their 
sunshine  (when  they  are  gone,)  to  one 
winter,  with  its  indoor  sunshine  of  a  sea- 
coal  fire  ?* 


to  the  muntleplece.  "  Ah — take  care. 
You  see  what  that  old  looking  saucer  is, 
with  a  handle  to  it  ?  It  is  a  venerable 
piece  of  earthenware,  which  may  have 
been  worth,  to  an  Athenian,  about  two- 
pence; but  to  an  author,  is  worth  a  great 
deal  more  than  ever  he  could — deny  for 
it.  And  yet  he  would  deny  it  too.  It 
will  fetch  his  imagination  more  than  ever 
it  fetched  potter  or  penny-maker.  Its 
little  shallow  circle  overflows  for  him  with 
the  milk  and  honey  of  a  thousand  plea- 
sant associations.  This  is  one  of  the  uses 
of  having  mantlepieces.  You  may  often 
see  on  no  very  rich  mantlepiece  a  repre- 
sentative body  of  all  the  elements,  phy- 
sical and  intellectual, — a  shell  for  the  sea, 
a  stuffed  bird  or  some  feathers  for  the  air, 
a  curious  piece  of  mineral  for  the  earth,  a 
glass  of  water  with  some  flowers  in  it  for 
the  visible  process  of  creation, — a  cast  from 
sculpture  for  the  mind  of  man ; — and  un- 
derneath all,  is  the  bright  and  ever-spring- 
ing fire,  running  up  through  them  heaven- 
wards, like  hope  through  materiality." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...   46.  02. 

October  30. 

YEOMEN  OF  THE  GUARD. 
On  this  day  in  the  year  1485,  when 
king  Henry  VII.  was  crowned  at  West- 
minster, he  instituted  the  body  of  royal 
attendants,  called  yeomen  of  the  guard, 
who  in  later  times  acquired  the  appel- 
lation of  "  beef-eaters." 


Mr  Leigh  Hunt,  who  on  the  affairs  of 
"  The  Months"  is  our  first  authority,  plea- 
santly inquires — "  With  our  fire  before  us, 
and  our  books  on  each  side,  what  shall 
we  do  ?  Shall  we  take  out  a  life  of  some- 
body, or  a  Theocritus,  or  Dante,  or 
Ariosto,  or  Montaigne,  or  Marcus  Aure- 
lius,  or  Horace,  or  Shakspeare  who  in- 
cludes them  all?  Or  shall  we  read  an 
engraving  from  Poussin  or  Raphael  ?  Or 
shall  we  sit  with  tilted  chairs,  planting 
our  wrists  upon  o\ir  knees,  and  toasting 
the  up-turned  palms  of  our  hands,  while 
we  discourse  of  manners  and  of  man's 
heart  and  hopes,  with  at  least  a  sincerity, 
a  good  intention,  and  good  nature,  that 
shall  warrant  what  we  say  with  the  sin- 
cere, the  good-intentioned,  and  the  good- 
natured  ?" — He  then  agreeably  brings  us 

Mirior  of  the  Month*. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  47  .  17. 


©rtober  31 

HALLOW  EVE. 

The  superstitious  observances  of  this 
night,  described  in  the  former  volume, 
are  fast  disappearing.  In  some  places 
where  young  people  were  acustomed  to 
meet  foi  purposes  of  divination,  and  fre- 
quently frighten  each  other  into  fits,  as 
of  ancient  custom,  they  have  little  regard 
to  the  old  usages.  The  meetings  en 
Hallow-eve  are  becoming  pleasant  merry- 
makings ;  the  dance  prevails  till  supper- 
time,  when  they  take  a  cheerful  glass 
and  drink  to  their  next  happy  meeting. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .   47-  62. 


THE  EVERY- DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER. 


1363 


NOVEMBER. 

And,  when  November  came,  there  fell 

Another  limning  in,  to  tell 

The  month's  employment ;  which  we  see 

Providance  was,  for  time  to  be. 

Now  was  the  last  loud  squeaking  roar 

Of  many  a  mighty  forest  boar, 

Whose  head,  when  came  the  Christmas  days, 

Was  crown'd  with  rosemary  and  bays, 

And  so  brought  in,  with  shoutings  long, 

And  minstrelsy,  and  choral  song.  * 

We  can  now   perceive  the  departure  of    under  the  agreeable  alias  of  autumn,  *n 
that  delightful  annual  guest,  the  summer,     whose   presence    we    have     lately    heeu 


1363 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER. 


1364 


luxuriating.  We  might,  perhaps,  by  a 
little  gentle  violence,  prevail  upon  her  to 
stay  with  us  for  ?.  brief  space  longer ;  or 
might  at  least  prevail  upon  ourselves  to 
believe  that  she  is  not  quite  gone.  But 
we  shall  do  better  by  speeding  her  on  her 
way  to  other  climes,  and  welcoming  '  the 
coming  guest/  gray-haired  winter:" — 
nor  can  we  do  better  at  this  moment  than 
take  "  note  of  preparation,"  for  a  grateful 
adieu  to  the  year  and  welcome  to  the 
comer. 

On  ushering  in  the  winter  we  recur  to 
the  "  Mirror  of  the  Months,"  from  whence 
we  have  derived  so  many  delightful  re- 
flections, and  take  a  few  "  looks"  in  it, 
for,  perhaps,  the  last  time.  At  this  season 
last  year  it  presented  to  us  the  evergreens, 
and  now,  with  a  "  now,"  we  select  other 
appearances. 

Now — as  the  branches  become  bare, 
another  sight  presents  itself,  which, 
trifling  as  it  is,  fixes  the  attention  of  all 
who  see  it.  I  mean  the  birds'  nests  that  are 
seen  here  and  there  in  the  now  transpa- 
rent hedges,  bushes,  and  copses.  It  is 
not  difficult  to  conceive  why  this  sight 
should  make  the  heart  of  the  schoolboy 
leap  with  an  imaginative  joy,  as  it  brings 
before  his  eyes  visions  of  five  blue  eggs 
lying  sweetly  beside  each  other,  on  a  bed 
of  moss  and  feathers ;  or  as  many  gaping 
bills  lifting  themselves  from  out  what 
seems  one  callow  body.  But  we  are, 
unhappily,  not  all  schoolboys ;  and  it  is 
to  be  hoped  not  many  of  us  ever  have 
been  bird-nesting  ones.  And  yet  we  all 
look  upon  this  sight  with  a  momentary 
interest,  that  few  other  so  indifferent  ob- 
jects are  capable  of  exciting.  The  wise 
may  condescend  to  explain  this  interest, 
if  they  please,  or  if  they  can.  But  if  they 
do,  it  will  be  for  their  own  satisfaction, 
not  ours,  who  are  content  to  be 
pleased,  without  insisting  on  penetrating 
into  the  cause  of  our  pleasure. 

Now,  the  felling  of  icood  for  the  win- 
ter store  commences;  and,  in  a  mild  still 
day,  the  measured  strokes  r  f  the  wood- 
man's axe,  heard  far  away  in  the  thick 
forest,  bring  with  their  sound  an  associ- 
ated feeling,  similar  to  that  produced  by 
a  wreath  of  smoke  rising  from  out  the 
same  scene :  they  tell  us  a  tale  of 

•'  Uncertain  dwellers  in  the  pathless  wood." 


THE  WOODMAN. 

Far  removed  from  noise  and  smoke, 

Hark  !  I  hear  the  woodman's  stroke, 

Who  dreams  not  as  he  fells  the  oak, 

What  mischief  dire  he  brews  ; 

How  art  may  shape  his  falling  trees, 
In  aid  of  luxury  and  ease  : — 
He  weighs  not  matters  such  as  these, 
But  sings,  and  hacks,  and  hews. 

Perhaps,  now  tell'd  by  this  bold  man, 
That  tree  may  form  the  spruce  sedan ; 
Or  wheelbarrow,  where  oyster  Nan 
Oft  runs  her  vulgar  rig  j 

The  stage,  where  boxers  crowd  in  flocks ; 
Or  else  a  quack's  ;  perhaps,  the  stocks  j 
Or  posts  for  signs  ;  or  barber's  blocks, 
Where  smiles  the  parson's  wig. 

Thou  mak'st,  bold  peasant,  oh  what  grief ' 
The  gibbet  on  which  hangs  the  thief, 
The  seat  where  sits  the  grave  lord  chief, 
The  throne,  the  cobler's  stall. 

Thou  pamper' st  life  in  ev'ry  stage, 
Mak'st  folly's  whims,  pride's  equipage  ; 
For  children,  toys  ;  crutches,  for  age  ; 
And  coffins  for  us  all.  C.  Dibdin. 


The  "  bnry  flail"  too,  which  is  now  in 
full  employment,  fills  the  air  about  the 
homestead  with  a  pleasant  sound,  and 
invites  the  passer-by  to  look  in  at  the 
great  open  doors  of  the  barn,  and  see  the 
wheatstack  reaching  to  the  roof  on  either 
hand;^l.e  little  pyramid  of  bright  grain 
behind  the  threshers;  the  scattered  ears 
between  them,  leaping  and  rustling  be- 
neath f  fieir  fast-falling  strokes ;  and  the  flail 
itself  1  tying  harmless  round  the  labourers' 
heads,  though  seeming  to  threaten  danger 
at  every  tuin;  while,  outside,  the  flock  of 
"barn-door"  poultry  ply  their  ceaseless 
search  for  food,  among  the  knee-deep 
straw;  and  the  cattle,  all  their  summer  < 
frolics  forgotten,  stand  ruminating  beside 
the  half-empty  hay-rack,  or  lean  with 
inquiring  faces  over  the  gate  that  looks 
down  into  the  village,  or  away  towards 
the  distant  pastures. 


Of  the  birds  that  have  hitherto  made 
merry  even  at  the  approach  of  winter, 
now  all  are  silent ;  all,  save  that  one  who 
now  earns  his  title  of  "  the  household 
bird,"  by  haunting  the  thresholds  and 
window-cills,  and  casting  sidelong  glances 
in-doors,  as  if  to  reconnoitre  the  positions 
of  all  within,  before  the  pinching  frosts 
force  him  to  lay  aside  his  fears,  and  flit 


1365 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER. 


1366 


in  and  out,  silently,  like  a  winged  spirit. 
All  are  now  silent  except  him ;  but  he, 
as  he  sits  on  the  pointed  palings  beside 
the  door-way,  or  on  the  topmost  twig  of 
the  little  black  thorn  that  has  been  left 
growing  in  the  otherwise  closely-clipt 
hedge,  pipes  plaintive  ditties  with  a  low 
imvard  voice — like  that  of  a  love-tainted 
maiden,  as  she  sits  apart  from  her  com- 
panions, and  sings  soft  melodies  to  herself, 
almost  without  knowing  it. 


Some  of  the  other  small  birds  that  win- 
ter with  us,  but  have  hitherto  kept  aloof 
from  our  dwellings,  now  approach  them, 
and  mope  about  among  the  house-spar- 
rows, on  the  bare  branches,  wondering 
what  has  become  of  all  the  leaves,  and 
not  knowing  one  tree  from  another.  Of 
these  the  chief  are,  the  hedge-sparrow,  the 
blue  titmouse,  and  the  linnet.  These 
also,  together  with  the  goldfinch,  thrush, 
blackbird,  &c.  may  still  be  seen  rifling 
the  hip  and  haw  grown  hedges  of  their 
scanty  fruit.  Almost  all,  however,  even 
of  those  singing-birds  that  do  not  migrate, 
except  the  redbreast,  wren,  hedge-spar- 
row, and  titmouse,  disappear  shortly  after 
the  commencement  of  this  month,  and  go 
no  one  knows  whither.  But  the  pert 
house-sparrow  keeps  possession  of  the 
garden  and  courtyard  all  the  winter ; 
and  the  different  species  of  wagtails  may 
be  seen  busily  haunting  the  clear  cold 
spring-heads,  and  wading  into  the  un- 
frozen water  in  search  of  their  delicate 
food,  consisting  of  insects  in  the  aurelia 
state. 


Now,  the  farmer  finishes  all  his  out-of- 
door  work  before  the  frosts  set  in,  and 
lays  by  his  implements  till  the  awakening 
of  spring  calls  him  to  his  hand-labour 
again. 

Now,  the  sheep,  all  their  other  more 
natural  food  failing,  begin  to  be  penned 
on  patches  of  the  turnip-field,  where  they 
first  devour  the  green  tops  joyfully,  and 
then  gradually  hollow  out  the  juicy  root, 
holding  it  firm  with  their  feet, till  nothing 
is  left  but  the  dry  brown  husk. 

Now,  the  herds  stand  all  day  long 
hanging  their  disconsolate  heads  beside 
the  leafless  hedges,  and  waiting-  as  anxi- 
ously, but  as  patiently  too,  to  be  called 
home  to  the  hay-fed  stall,  is  they  do  in 
summer  to  be  driven  afield. 


Now,  cold  rain*  come  deluging  down, 
till  the  drenched  ground,  the  dripping 
trees,  the  pouring  eaves,  and  the  torn 
ragged-skirted  clouds,  seemingly  dragged 
downward  slantwise  by  the  threads  of 
dusky  rain  that  descend  from  them,  are 
all  mingled  together  in  one  blind  confu- 
sion ;  while  the  few  cattle  that  are  left  in 
the  open  pastures,  forgetful  of  their  till 
now  interminable  business  of  feeding, 
turn  their  backs  upon  the  besieging 
storm,  and  hanging  down  their  heads  till 
their  noses  almost  touch  the  ground, 
stand  out  in  the  middle  of  the  fields 
motionless,  like  dead  images. 

Now,  too,  a  single  rain-storm,  like  the 
above,  breaks  up  all  the  paths  and  ways 
at  once,  and  makes  home  no  longer 
"  home  "  to  those  who  are  net  obliged  to 
leave  it;  while,  en  revance,  it  becomes 
doubly  endeared  to  those  who  are. 


London  is  so  perfect  an  antithesis  to 
the  country  in  all  things,  that  whatever  is 
good  for  the  one  is  bad  for  the  other. 
Accordingly,  as  the  country  half  forgets 
itself  this  month,  so  London  just  begins 
to  know  itself  again. — Its  streets  revive 
from  their  late  suspended  animation,  and 
are  alive  with  anxious  faces  and  musical 
with  the  mingled  sounds  of  many  wheels. 

Now,  the  shops  begin  to  shine  out  with 
their  new  winter  wares;  though  as  yet 
the  chief  profits  of  their  owners  depend 
on  disposing  of  the  "  summer  stock,"  at 
fifty  per  cent,  under  prime  cost. 

Now,  the  theatres,  admonished  by  their 
no  longer  empty  benches,  try  which  shall 
be  the  first  to  break  through  that  hollow 
truce  on  the  strength  of  which  they  have 
hitherto  been  acting  only  on  alternate 
nights. 

Now,  during  the  first  week,  the  citizens 
see  visions  and  dream  dreams,  the  bur- 
thens of  which  are  barons  of  beef;  and 
the  first  eight  days  are  passed  in  a  state 
of  pleasing  perplexity,  touching  their 
chance  of  a  ticket  for  the  lord  mayor's 
dinner  on  the  ninth. 

Now,  all  the  little  boys  give  thanks  in 
their  secret  hearts  to  Guy  Faux,  for  hav- 
ing attempted  to  burn  "  the  parliament" 
with  "  gunpowder,  treason,  and  plot," 
since  the  said  attempt  gives  them  occa- 
sion to  burn  every  thing  they  can  lay 
their  hands  on, — their  own  fingers  in- 
cluded :  a  bonfire  being,  in  the  eyes  of 
an  English  schoolboy,  the  true  "  beaute- 
ous and  sublime  of  human  life." 


1367 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  1. 


1368 


OPE  TO  WINTER. 
By  a  Gentleman  of  Cambridge. 

From  mountains  of  eternal  snow, 
And  Zambia's  dreary  plains  ; 

Where  the  bleak  winds  for  ever  blow 
And  frost  for  ever  reigns, 

Lo  !  Winter  comes,  in  fogs  array'd, 
With  ice,  and  spangled  dews  ; 

To  dews,  and  fogs,  and  storms  be  paid 
The  tribute  of  the  Muse. 

Each  flowery  carpet  Nature  spread 

Is  vanish'd  from  the  eye  ; 
Where'er  unhappy  lovers  tread, 

No  Philomel  is  nigh. 

(For  well  I  ween  her  plaintive  note, 

Can  soothing  ease  impart ; 
The  little  warblings  of  her  throat 

Relieve  the  wounded  heart.) 

No  blushing  rose  unfolds  its  bloom, 

No  tender  lilies  blow, 
To  scent  the  air  with  rich  perfume, 

Or  grace  Lucinda's  brow. 

Th'  indulgent  Father  who  protects 

The  wretched  and  the  poor ; 
With  the  same  gracious  care  directs 

The  sparrow  to  our  door. 

Dark,  scowling  tempests  rend  the  skies, 
And  clouds  obscure  the  day ; 

His  genial  warmth  the  sun  denies, 
And  sheds  a  fainter  ray. 

Yet  blame  we  not  the  troubled  air, 

Or  seek  defects  to  find  ; 
For  Power  Omnipotent  is  there, 

And  'walks  upon  the  wind.' 

Hail  !  every  pair  whom  love  unites 

In  wedlock's  pleasing  ties ; 
That  endless  source  of  pure  delights, 

That  blessing  to  the  wise  ! 

Though  yon  pale  orb  no  warmth  bestows, 

And  storms  united  meet. 
The  flame  of  love  and  friendship  glows 

With  unextinguish'd  heat. 


All  Saints.* 

INSCRIPTIONS  IN  CHURCHES. 

A  remarkable  colloquy  between  queen 
Elizabeth  and  dean  Nowell  at  St.  Paul's 
cathedral  on  the  1st  of  November,  1561, 
6  said  to  have  originated  the  usage  of  in- 
bribing  texts  of  scripture  in  English  on 

*  Ser  vol.  l.col.  1421. 


the  inner  side  of  the  church-walls  as  we 
still  see  them  in  many  parishes. 

Her  majesty  having  attended  -worship 
"  went  straight  to  the  vestry,  and  apply 
ing  herself  to  the  dean,  thus  she  spoke  t  < 
him." 

Q.  Mr.  Dean,  how  came  it  to  pass 
that  a  new  service-book  was  placed  on 
my  cushion  ? 

To  which  the  dean  answered  : 

D.  May  it  please  your  majesty,  I 
caused  it  to  be  placed  there. 

Then  said  the  queen  : 

Q.     Wherefore  did  you  so  ? 

D.  To  present  your  majesty  with  a 
new-year's  gift. 

Q.  You  could  never  present  me  with 
a  worse. 

D.     Why  so,  madam  ? 

Q.  You  know  I  have  an  aversion  to 
idolatry  and  pictures  of  this  kind. 

D.  Wherein  is  the  idolatry,  may  it 
please  your  majesty  ? 

Q.  In  the  cuts  resembling  angels  and 
saints  ;  nay,  grosser  absurdities,  pictures 
resembling  the  blessed  Trinity. 

D.  I  meant  no  harm  :  nor  did  I  think 
it  would  offend  your  majesty  when  I  in- 
tended it  for  a  new-year's  gift. 

Q.  You  must  needs  be  ignorant  then. 
Have  you  forgot  our  proclamation  against 
images,  pictures,  and  Romish  relics  in 
churches?  Was  it  not  read  in  your 
deanery  ? 

D.  It  was  read.  But  be  your  ma- 
jesty assured,  I  meant  no  harm,  when  I 
caused  the  cuts  to  be  bound  with  the  ser- 
vice-book. 

Q.  You  must  needs  be  very  ignorant, 
to  do  this  after  our  prohibition  of  them. 

D.  It  being  my  ignorance,  your  ma- 
jesty may  the  better  pardon  me. 

Q.  I  am  sorry  for  it :  yet  glad  to  hear 
it  was  your  ignorance,  rather  than  your 
opinion. 

D.  Be  your  majesty  assured  it  was 
my  ignorance. 

Q.  If  so,  Mr.  Dean,  God  grant  you 
his  Spirit,  and  more  wisdom  for  the  fu- 
ture. 

D.     Amen,  I  pray  God. 

Q.  I  pray,  Mr.  Dean,  how  came  you 
by  these  pictures? — Who  engraved  them  ? 

D.  1  know  not  who  engraved  them, — 
I  bought  them. 

Q.     From  whom  bought  you  them  ? 

D.     From  a  German. 

Q.  It  is  well  it  was  from  a  stranger. 
Had  it  been  any  of  our  subjects,  we  should 
have  questioned  the  matter.  Pray  lei  no 


1369 


THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  2. 


1 37<» 


more  of  rhese  mistakes,  or  of  this  kind, 
oe  committed  within  the  churches  of  our 
ealm  for  the  future. 
D.     There  shall  not. 

Mr.  Nichols,  after  inserting  the  preced- 
ing dialogue,  in  "  Queen  Elizabeth's  Pro- 
gresses," remarks — 

"  This  matter  occasioned  all  the  clergy 
in  and  about  London,  and  the  church- 
wardens of  each  parish,  to  search  their 
churches  and  chapels :  and  caused  them 
to  wash  out  of  the  walls  all  paintings  that 
seemed  to  be  Romish  and  idolatrous;  and 
in  lieu  thereof  suitable  texts,  taken  out  of 
the  holy  scriptures,  to  be  written." 

Similar  inscriptions  had  been  previ- 
ously adopted :  the  effect  of  the  queen's 
disapprobation  of  pictured  representa- 
tions was  to  increase  the  number  of 
painted  texts. 


Mr.  J.  T.  Smith  observes,  that  of  these 
sacred  sentences  there  were  several  within 
memory  in  the  old  church  of  Padding- 
ton,  now  pulled  down ;  and  also  in  the 
little  old  one  of  Clapham. 

In  an  inside  view  of  Ambleside  church, 
painted  by  George  Arnald,  Esq.  A.  R.  A. 
he  has  recorded  several,  which  are  par- 
ticularly appropriate  to  their  stations  ;  for 
instance,  that  over  the  door  admonishes 
the  comers  in ;  that  above  the  pulpit  ex- 
hoits  the  preacher  to  spare  not  his  con- 
gregation ;  and  another  within  sight  of  the 
singers,  encourages  them  to  cffer  praises 
to  the  Lord  on  high.  These  inscriptions 
have  sometimes  one  line  written  in  black, 
and  the  next  in  red  ;  in  other  instances 
the  first  letter  of  each  line  is  of  a  bright 
blue,  green,  or  red.  They  are  frequently 
surrounded  by  painted  imitations  of  frames 
or  scrolls,  held  up  by  boys  painted  in 
ruddle.  It  was  the  custom  in  earlier 
times  to  write  them  in  French,  with  the 
first  letter  of  the  liue  considerably  larger 
than  the  rest,  and  likewise  of  a  bright  co- 
lour curiously  ornamented.  Several  of 
these  were  discovered  in  1801,  on  the 
ceiling  of  a  closet  on  the  south  side  ot 
the  Painted  Chamber,  Westminster,  now 
blocked  up. 

Others  of  a  subsequent  date,  of  the 
reign  of  Edward  III.  in  Latin,  were  vi- 
sible during  the  recent  alterations  of  the 
house  of  commons,  beautifully  written 
in  the  finest  jet  black,  with  the  first  letters 
also  of  bright  and  different  colours. 

Hogarth,  in  his  print  of  the  sleeping 


congregation,  has  satirized  this  kina  c> 
church  embellishments,  by  putting  a  to- 
bacco pipe  in  the  mouth  of  the  angel  who 
holds  up  the  scroll  ;  and  illustrates  the 
usual  ignorance  of  country  art,  by  giving 
three  joints  to  one  of  his  legs.  The 
custom  of  putting  up  sacred  sentences  is 
still  continued  in  many  churches,  but  they 
are  generally  written  in  letters  of  gold 
upon  black  grounds,  within  the  pannels 
of  the  fronts  of  the  galleries.* 

1SATUR  A  LISTS*    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .....  48  •  00. 


2. 


All  Souls.t 

Naogeorgus  in  his  satire,  the  "  Popish 
Kmgdome,"  has  a  "  description  which" 
Dr  Forster  says  "  is  grossly  exaggerated, 
like  many  other  accounts  of  catholics 
written  by  protestants."  If  the  remark 
be  fair,  it  is  fair  also  to  observe  that  many 
accounts  of  protestants  written  by  catho- 
lics are  equally  gross  in  their  exaggera- 
tions. It  would  be  wiser,  because  it  would 
be  honest,  were  each  to  relate  truth  of  the 
other,  and  become  mutually  charitable, 
and  live  like  Christians.  How  far  Nao- 
georgus misrepresented  the  usages  of  the 
Romish  churchmen  in  his  time,  it  would 
not  be  easy  to  prove  ;  nor  ought  his  lines 
which  follow  in  English,  by  Barnaby 
Googe,  to  be  regarded  here,  otherwise  than 
as  homely  memorials  of  past  days. 

All  Soulne  Day. 

For  souls  departed  from  this  life, 

they  also  carefull  bee  ; 
The  shauen  sort  in  numbers  great, 

thou  shalt  assembled  see, 
Where  as  their  seruice  with  such  speede 

they  mumble  out  of  hande, 
That  none,  though  well  they  marke,  a  worae 

thereof  can  vnderstande. 
But  soberly  they  sing,  while  as 

the  people  offring  bee, 
For  to  releaue  their  parents  soules 

that  lie  in  miseree. 
For  they  beleeue  the  shauen  sort, 

with  dolefull  harmonie, 
To  draw  the  damned  soules  from  hell, 

and  bring  them  to  the  skie  ; 
Where  they  but  onely  here  regarde, 

their  belly  and  their  gaine, 
And  neuer  troubled  are  with  care 

of  any  soule  in  paine. 

•  Mr.  J.  T.  Smith's  Ancient  Topography  of  Lon. 
don,  4to  p   11. 
t  See  vol.  i.  col.  1423. 


1371 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  3 


1372 


Their  sendee  thus  in  ordering, 
and  payde  for  masse  and  all. 

They  to  the  tauerne  streightways  go, 
or  to  the  parsons  hall, 

Where  all  the  day  they  drinke  and  play, 
aud  pots  about  do  walk,  &c. 


OLD  HOB. 

T.  A.  communicates  that  there  is  a 
custom  very  common  in  Cheshire  called 
Old  Hob:  it  consists  of  a  man  carrying  a 
dead  horse's  head,  covered  with  a  sheet, 
to  frighten  people.  This  frolic  is  usual 
between  All  Soul's  day  and  Christmas. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  47  •  37. 


3. 


THE  BECKFORD  FAMILY. 

On  the  3d  of  November,  1735,  Peter 
Beckford,  Esq.  died  in  Jamaica,  worth 
three  hundred  thousand  pounds.*  His 
direct  male  ancestor,  served  in  a  humble 
capacity  in  the  armament  under  Penn 
and  Venables,  which  captured  that  im- 
portant island.  Mr.  Peter  Beckford  was 
father  of  the  celebrated  alderman  Beck- 
ford,  whose  fortune  enabled  him  to  pur- 
chase the  landed  estate  of  the  Meroyns  in 
Wiltshire,  which,  till  lately,  formed  a  dis- 
tinguished part  of  the  possessions  of  the 
present  Mr.  Beckford. 


A  correspondent  communicates  a  plea- 
sant account  of  a  wake  in  Wiltshire,  dur- 
ing the  present  month. 

CLACK  FALL  FAIR. 

"  See,  neighbours,  what  Joe  Ody's  doing." 

The  township  of  Clack  stands  on  an 
eminence  which  gives  a  view  of  twenty 
miles  round  a  part  of  the  most  beautiful 
county  of  Wilts.f  Clack  is  attached  to 
Bradenstock-abbey,  remarkable  for  its 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

t  There  is  a  very  old  stanza  known  here,  which 
though   it  gives  no  favourable   mention  of  Cl^ck, 
couples  many  surrounding  places  well  known — 
•'  White  Cliff- Pepper  Cliff-Cliff  and  Cliff  Ancey, 
Lyneham  and  lo— e  Clack, 
C— se  MalfordJ  and  Dauncey." 


t  Christian  Malford,  no  doubt,  was  a  bad  ford  for 
the  monks  that  came  down  the  Avon  to  the  sur- 
rounding abbeys. 


forest,  and  the  reception  of  the  monks  of 
St.  Augustine.  Many  vestiges  remain  of 
the  splendour  of  this  abbey,  which  is  now 
a  large  farm,  and  stone  coffins  have  been 
found  here.  A  carpenter  in  this  neigh- 
bourhood recently  digging  a  hole  for  the 
post  to  a  gate,  struck  his  spade  against  a 
substance  which  proved  to  be  gold,  and 
weighed  two  ounces  :  it  was  the  image  of  a 
monk  in  the  posture  of  prayer,  with  a 
a  book  open  before  him.  A  subterra- 
neous passage  once  led  from  this  place  to 
Malmsbury-abbey,  a  distance  of  seven 
miles.  At  this  ruin,  when  a  boy,  I  was 
shown  the  stone  upon  which  the  blood  is 
said  to  have  been  spill  by  a  school-mas- 
ter, who,  in  a  passion,  killed  his  pupil 
with  a  penknife. 

Clack  spring  and  fall  Fairs  were  well 
attended  formerly.  They  were  held  for 
horses,  pigs,  cows,  oxen,  sheep,  and 
shows  ;  but  especially  for  the  "  hiring 
servants."  Hamlet's  words, — "  Oh,  what 
a/a//ing  off  is  here!"  may  not  inappro- 
priately be  applied.  Old  Michaelmas- 
day  is  the  time  the  fall  fair  is  kept,  but, 
really,  every  thing  which  constitutes  a 
fair,  seemed  this  year  to  be  absent.  A 
few  farmers  strolled  up  and  down  the 
main  street  in  their  boots,  and  took  refuge 
in  the  hospitable  houses;  a  few  rustics 
waited  about  the  "  Mop"  or  "  Statue" 
in  their  clean  frocks  twisted  round 
their  waists  with  their  best  clothes  on  ; 
a  few  sellers  of  cattle  looked  round  for 
customers,  with  the  pike  tickets  in  their 
hats ;  and  a  few  maid  servants  placed 
themselves  in  a  corner  to  be  hired  :  here, 
there  was  no  want  of  Clack,  for  many 
were  raised  in  stature  by  their  pattens 
and  rather  towering  bonnets ;  and  a  few 
agriculturists'  daughters  and  dames,  in 
whom  neither  scarcity  of  money  nor  ap- 
parel were  visible,  came  prancing  into 
the  courts  of  their  friends  and  alighting  at 
the  uppingstocks,  and  dashed  in  among  the 
company  with  true  spirit  and  bon  hommie. 

Clack  fair  was  worth  gazing  at  a  few 
years  ago.  When  Joe  Ody,*  the  stultum 
ingenium,  obtained  leave  to  shoiv  forth 
in  the  Blindhouse  by  conjuring  rings  off 
women's  fingers,  and  finding  them  in 
men's  pockets,  eating  fire  and  drawing 
yards  of  ribands  out  of  his  mouth,  giving 
shuffling  tricks  with  cards,  to  ascertain 
how  much  money  was  in  the  ploughman's 
yellow  purse,  cutting  off  cock's  heads, 

*  A  native  of  this  part,  gnd  at  the  top  of  Merry* 


1373 


THE  £VEHY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  4. 


1374 


pricking  in  the  garter  for  love  tokens, 
giving  a  chance  at  the  "  black  cock  or 
the  white  cock,"  and  lastly,  raising  the 
devil,  who  carries  off  the  cheating  parish 
baker  upon  his  back.  These,  indeed, 
were  fine  opportunities  for  old  women  to 
talk  about,  when  leaning  over  the  hatch 
of  the  front  door,  to  gossip  with  their 
ready  neighbours  in  the  same  position 
opposite,  while  their  good  men  of  the 
house,  sat  in  the  porch  chuckling  with 
"  pipe  in  one  hand  and  jug  in  the  other." 
Then  the  "  learned  dog"  told  person's 
names  by  letters ;  and  here  I  discovered 
the  secret  of  this  canine  sapiency,  the 
master  twitched  his  thumb  and  finger  for 
the  letter  at  which  the  dog  stopped.  I 
posed,  master  and  dog,  however,  by 
giving  my  Christian  name  "  Jehoiada." 
A  word  no  fair  scholar  could  readily  spell; 
this  shook  the  faith  of  many  gaping  dis- 
ciples. The  "  poney"  too  was  greatly  ad- 
mired for  telling  which  lassie  loved  her 
morning  bed,  which  would  be  first  mar- 
lied.  and  which  youth  excelled  in  kissing 
a  gii-1  in  a  sly  corner.  The  being  "  ground 
young  again,"  no  less  enlivened  the  spirits 
of  maiden  aunts,  and  the  seven  tall  single 
sisters  ;  then  the  pelican  put  its  beak  on 
the  child's  head  for  a  night  cap,  and  the 
monkeys  and  bears  looked,  grimaced  and 
danced,  to  the  three  dogs  in  red  jackets, 
with  short  pipes  in  their  mouths;  and  the 
'•  climbing  cat"  ascended  the  "  maypole," 
and  returned  into  its  master's  box  at  a 
word.  This  year's  attractions  chiefly  were 
three  booths  for  gingerbread  ard  hard 
ware — a  raree  show  !  a  blind  fidler — the 
E.  O.  table — the  birds,  rats,  and  kittens 
in  one  cage  —and  a  song  sung  here  and 
there,  called  the  "  Bulleyed  Farmers," 
attributed  to  Bowles  of  Brinkworth,  but 
who  disclaimed  like  Coleridge,  the  au- 
thorship of  a  satiric  production. 

Thus,  fairs,  amusements  and  the  works 
of  mortals,  pass  away — one  age  dies, 
another  comes  in  its  stead — but  who  will 
secure  the  sports  of  ancestry  inviolate?  who 
search  into  the  workings  of  the  illiterate, 
and  hand  them  down  to  posterity,  without 
the  uncertain  communication  of  oral 
tradition,  which  often  obscures  the  light 
intended  to  be  conveyed  for  information. — 
Thanks  be  to  the  art  of  printing,  to  the 
cultivation  ot  reading,  and  the  desire 
which  accompanies  both. 


W-VTURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature 44-40. 


4. 


KING  WILLIAM  LANDED. 
On  the  day  appointed  for  the  comme- 
moration of  the  landing  of  king  William 
III.  (who  in  fact  landed  on  the  5th*)  it 
may  be  worth  notice,  that  its  centenary 
in  1788  is  thus  mentioned  in  the  "  Public 
Advertiser"  of  that  year — "  This  day  is  ap- 
pointed to  commemorate  an  event,  which, 
if  deserving  commemoration,  ought  never 
to  be  forgotten,  and  yet  it  is  probable  it 
will  produce  as  much  good  moral  or 
political  effect  as  the  events  which  dis- 
tinguish Christmas,  Good  Friday,  or  Eas- 
ter, from  other  days  of  the  year.  How- 
ever, we  are  not  disposed  to  quarrel  with 
the  scheme,  the  events  of  a  day  are  few, 
the  remembrance  cannot  be  long.  In  the 
City,  in  Westminster,  and  in  many  of  the 
principal  towns  in  England,  societies 
have  been  formed,  cards  of  invitation 
sent,  sold  and  bought,  and  grand  dinners 
are  prepared,  and  have  this  day  been 
devoured  with  keen  revolution  appetites. 
Not  to  exclude  the  females,  in  some  places 
balls  are  given;  and  that  the  religious 
may  not  wholly  be  disappointed,  revo- 
lution sermons  were  this  morning  preached 
in  several  chapels  and  meeting-houses. 
Scotland  is  not  behind  hand  in  zeal  upon 
this  occasion,  although  a  Jittle  so  in  point 
of  time.  To-morrow  is  tfieir  day  of  com- 
memoration.  Over  all  the  kingdom  a  day 
of  thanksgiving  is  appointed." 


KING  WILLIAM'S  PEERS. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  essential  services  of  king  William 
III.  to  the  cause  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty,  his  perseverance  and  prowess  as 
a  warrior,  his  shrewdness  and  dexterity  as 
a  statesman,  adapting  the  most  concilia- 
tory means  to  the  most  patriotic  ends, 
have  been  repeatedly  dilated  on,  and 
generally  acknowledged.  Here,  is  merely 
purposed  to  be  traced  how  he  exercised 
one  of  the  most  exclusive,  important,  and 
durable  prerogatives  of  an  English  mo- 
narch, by  a  brief  recapitulation  of  such  of 
his  additions  and  promotions  in  the  here- 
ditory  branch  of  our  legislature  as  still 
are  in  existence. 

The  ancestor  of  the  duke  of  Portland 
was  count  Bentinck,  a  Dutchman,  of  a 
family  still  of  note  in  Holland ;  he  had 

*  See  vol.  i.  col.  1428. 


375 


THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  4. 


1376 


been  page  of  honour  to  king  William, 
when  he  was  only  prince  of  Orange.  He 
made  him  groom  of  the  stole,  privy  purse, 
a  lieutenant-general  in  the  British  army, 
colonel  of  a  regiment  of  Dutch  horse  in 
the  British  pay,  one  of  the  privy-council, 
master  of  the  horse,  baron  of  Cirencester, 
viscount  Woodstock,  and  earl  of  Port- 
land, and  afterwards  ambassador  extra- 
ordinary to  the  court  of  France.  His 
son  was  made  duke  of  Portland,  and  go- 
vernor of  Jamaica,  by  George  I. 

William  Henry  Nassau,  commonly 
called  seigneur,  or  lord  of  Zuletstein  in 
Holland,  was  another  follower  of  the 
fortunes  of  king  William  ;  he  was  related 
to  his  majesty,  his  father  having  been  a 
natural  son  of  the  king's  grandfather.  He 
was  in  the  year  1695  created  baron  of 
Enfield,  viscount  Tunbridge,  and  earl  of 
Hochfort. 

Arnold  Joost  Van  Keppel,  another  of 
Williams's  followers,  was  the  second  son 
of  Bernard  Van  Pallant,  lord  of  the  manor 
of  Keppel  in  Holland,  a  particular  fa- 
vourite of  his  majesty,  who,  soon  .after  his 
accession  to  the  throne,  created  him  baron 
of  Ashford,  viscount  Bury,  and  earl  of 
Albemarle. 

Earl  Cowper  is  indebted  for  his  barony 
of  Wingham  to  queen  Anne,  and  for  his 
further  titles  of  viscount  Fordwich,  and 
earl  Cowper,  to  George  I. ;  but  he 
derives  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  his 
wealth  from  his  ancestress  in  the  female 
line,  lady  Henrietta,  daughter  and  heiress 
of  the  earl  of  Grantham,  descended  from 
monsieur  d'Auverquerque,  who  was  by 
that  prince  raised  to  the  dignity  of  an 
English  earl,  by  the  title  of  Grantham, 
being  representative  of  an  illegitimate 
son  of  the  celebrated  shadthalder,  prince 
Maurice. 

The  heroic  marshal  Schomberg,  who 
fell  in  the  memorable  battle  of  the  Boyne 
when  upwards  of  eighty  years  of  age,  had 
previously  been  created  by  king  William, 
a  duke  both  in  England  and  Ireland.  His 
titles  are  extinct,  but  his  heir  general  is 
the  present  duke  of  Leeds,  who  is  at  the 
same  time  heir  male  to  the  celebrated  earl 
of  Danby,  who  cuts  so  conspicuous  a 
figure  in  the  annals  of  Charles  II.,  and 
was  by  William  III.  advanced  to  a  duke- 
dom. 

The  dukedom  of  Bolton  was  conferred 
by  William  on  the  marquis  of  Winchester, 
wnose  ancestors  had  for  a  century  stood 
enrolled  as  premier  marquisses  of  Eng- 
land. 


Long  before  they  were  advanced  by 
William  III.  to  dukedoms,  the  houses  of 
Russell  and  Cavendish  had  been  noted  as 
two  of  the  most  historical  families  in  the 
English  peerage.  Their  earldoms  were 
respective  creations  of  Edward  VI.  and 
James  1.  The  individual  of  each  house 
first  ennobled,  died  possessed  of  the  bulk 
of  the  extensive  landed  possessions,  and 
strong  parliamentary  influence  with  which 
his  representative  is  at  the  present  moment 
invested. 

The  character  and  military  achieve- 
ments of  John  Churchill  stand  so  pre- 
eminent in  the  history  of  Europe,  that  it 
need  here  only  be  remarked  that  from  a 
baron,  king  William  conferred  on  him  the 
earldom  of  Marlborough,  again  advanced 
by  queer  Anr.e  to  a  dukedom,  carried  on 
by  act  cf  parliament,  after  his  victory  of 
Blenheim,  to  the  issue  male  of  his  daugh- 
ters, and  now  vested  in  the  noble  family 
of  Spencer,  earl  of  Sunderland. 

Lord  Lumley,  advanced  to  the  earldom 
of.  Scarborough,  was  one  of  the  memor- 
able seven  who  signed  the  original  lette' 
of  invitation  to  the  prince  of  Orange. 

Lord  Coventry,  descended  from  a  lord 
keeper  of  the  great  seal  to  Charles  I.,  was 
promoted  by  William  III.  to  an  earldom. 

Sir  Edward  Villiers,  a  courtier,  of  the 
same  family  as  the  celebrated  duke  of 
Buckingham,  received  the  earldom  of 
Jersey. 

The  families  of  Cholmondeley,  Fermor, 
and  Ashburnham,  were  each  raised  by 
William  III.  to  the  dignity  of  English 
barons.  They  were  each  of  considerable 
antiquity  and  extertsive  possessions. 
Each  was,  moreover,  peculiarly  dis- 
tinguished for  devoted  attachment  to  the 
cause  of  Charles  I.,  even  when  it  stood  in 
the  extremest  jeopardy. 

These  baronies  are  now  vested  respec- 
tively in  the  marquis  of  Cholmondeley, 
and  the  earls  of  Pomfret  and  Ashburn- 
ham. 

The  possessions,  the  influence,  the 
connections  of  the  male  representative  of 
the  able,  the  restless,  the  unfortunate 
sir  Harry  Vane,  were  still  of  weightier 
calibre.  He  received  from  king  WTilliam 
the  barony  of  Barnard,  now  vested  in  the 
earl  of  Darlington. 


P. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .    .  43  •  2T . 


1377 


THE  EVERY-DA\    BOOK,    NOVEMBER  5. 


1373 


5. 


POWDER  PLOT. 

To  keep  alive  the  remembrance  of  this 
conspiracy,  and  in  contemplation  of  its 
anniversary  in  1826,  a  printed  quarter 
sheet  was  published,  "  price  one  penny 
coloured,  and  one  halfpenny  plain."  It 
consists  of  a  rude  wood-cut  of  "  a  Guy," 
carried  about  by  boys,  and  the  subjoined 
title  with  the  accompanying  verses. 


Then  hollo  boys  i  hollo  boys !  shout  and  hun 
Hollo  boys !  hollo  boys  !  keep  up  the  day, 
Hollo  boys !  hollo  boys !  let  the  bells  ring, 
Down  with  the  pope,  and  God  save  the  king 
Huzza  !  Huzza  !  Huzza  ! 


QUICK'S  NEW  SPEECH  FOR  THE  FIFTH  OF 
NOVEMBER, 

On  the  Downfall  of  Guy  Fawkes. 

Good  gentlefolks,  pray, 

Remember  this  day, 
To  which  your  kind  notice  we  bring 

Here's  the  figure  of  sly 

Old  villainous  Guy, 
Who  wanted  to  murder  the  king : 

With  powder  a  store, 

He  bitterly  swore, 
As  he  skulk'd  in  the  vault  to  prepare, 

How  the  parliament  too, 

By  him  and  his  crew, 
Should  all  be  blown  up  in  the  air 

So  please  to  remember  the  fifth  of  November, 

Gunpowder  treason  and  plot ; 
We  know  no  reason  why  gunpowder  treason 

Should  ever  be  forgot. 

But  James  all  so  wise, 

Did  the  papists  surprise, 
Who  plotted  the  cruelty  great ; 

He  guessed  their  intent, 

And  Suffolk  was  sent, 
Who  sav'd  both  the  kingdom  and  state. 

With  a  lantern  was  found, 

Guy  Fawkes  under  ground, 
And  quick  was  the  traitor  bound  fast : 

They  said  he  should  die, 

So  hung  him  up  high, 
And  burnt  him  to  ashes  at  last. 

So  please  to  remember,  &c. 

So  we  once  a  year, 
Go  round  without  fear, 
To  keep  in  remembrance  the  day  : 
With  assistance  from  you, 
To  bring  to  your  view, 
Guy  Fawkes  again  blazing  away : 
While  with  crackers  and  fire, 
n  fullest  desire, 

In  nis  chair  he  thus  merrily  burns, 
So  jolly  we'll  be, 
And  shout — may  you  see, 
Of  this  day  many  happy  returns. 

So  please  to  remember,  &c. 
VOL.  II  —96. 


There  was  a  publication  in  1825,  of 
similar  character  to  the  preceding.  "  Guy" 
was  the  subject  of  the  cut,  and  the  topic 
of  the  verses  was  a  prayer  for  — 

-  •  —  "  a  halfpenny  to  buy  a  faggot, 

And  another  to  buy  a  match, 
And  another  to  buy  some  touch  paper, 
That  the  powder  soon  may  catch." 
It  contained  the  general  averment  — 
"  We  know  no  reason, 
Why  gunpowder  treason 
Should  ever  be  forgot." 

Though  it  is  not  requisite  to  relate  more 
particulars  of  the  "  gunpowder  treason" 
than  have  been  already  mentioned,*  yet 
a  friendly  finger  points  to  a  passage 
in  an  old  writer,  concerning  one  of  the 
conspirators,  which  is  at  least  amusing  : 
—  "  Some  days  before  the  fatal  stroke 
should  be  given,  Master  Keys,  being 
at  Tichmersh,  in  Northamptonshire,  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  Gilbert  Pickering,  his 
brother-in-law,  (but  of  a  different  religion, 
as  a  true  protestant,)  suddenly  whipped 
out  his  sword,  and  in  merriment  made 
many  offers  therewith  at  the  heads,  necks, 
and  sides  of  many  gentlemen  and  gentle- 
women then  in  his  company.  This,  then, 
was  taken  as  a  mere  frolic,  and  for  the 
present  passed  accordingly  ;  but  after- 
wards, when  the  treason  was  discovered, 
such  as  remembered  his  gestures,  thought 
thereby  he  did  act  what  he  intended  to 
do,  (if  the  plot  had  took  effect,)  hack  and 
hew,  kill  and  slay,  all  eminent  persons  of 
a  different  religion  to  themselves."f 


A  modern  writer  observes  :  —  "  It  is 
not,  perhaps,  generally  known,  that 
we  have  a  form  of  prayer  for  prisoners, 
which  is  printed  in  the  *  Irish  Com- 
mon Prayer-book,'  though  not  in  ours. 
Mrs.  Berkeley,  in  whose  Preface  of 
Prefaces  to  her  son's  poems  I  first  saw 
this  mentioned,  regrets  the  omission,  ob- 
serving, that  the  very  fine  prayer  for  those 
under  sentence  of  death  might,  being 
read  by  the  children  of  the  poor,  at  least 


*  In  vol.  i.  col.  1433. 

t  Fuller's  Church  History. 


1379 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  5. 


1380 


keep  them  from  the  gallows.  The  re- 
mark is  just.  If  there  be  not  room  in  our 
prayer-book,  we  have  some  services  there 
which  might  better  be  dispensed  with.  It 
was  not  very  decent  in  the  late  abolition 
of  holydays,  to  let  the  two  Charleses  hold 
their  place,  when  the  Virgin  Mary  and 
the  saints  were  deprived  of  the  red  letter 
privileges.  If  we  are  to  have  any  state 
service,  it  ought  to  be  for  the  expulsion  of 
the  Stuarts.  There  is  no  other  part  of 
their  history  which  England  ought  to  re- 
member with  sorrow  and  shame.  Guy 
Faux  also  might  now  be  dismissed, 
though  the  Eye  of  Providence  would  be  a 
real  loss.  The  Roman  catholics  know  the 
effect  of  such  prints  as  these,  and  there 
can  be  no  good  reason  for  not  imitating 
them  in  this  instance.  I  would  have  no 
prayer-book  published  without  that  eye 
of  Providence  in  it."* 


PURTON  BONFIRE. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Dear  Sir, — At  almost  every  village  in 
England,   the  fifth  of  November  is   re- 
garded in  a  very  especial  manner.      Some 
ny  greater  attention  to  it  than  others,  but 
>elieve  it  is  invariably  noticed  by  all. 

I  have  been  present  at  Old  Purton 
bonfire,  and  perhaps  the  following  short 
notice  of  it  may  not  be  uninteresting. 
x  I  before  stited  (col.  1207)  that  the 
green,  or  close,  at  Purton,  is  the  spot  allot- 
ted for  amusements  in  general.  This  is 
also  the  place  for  the  ceremonies  on  this 
highly  important  day,  which  I  am  about  to 
describe. 

Several  weeks  before,  the  boys  of  the 
village  go  to  every  house  begging  faggots ; 
and  if  they  are  refused  they  all  answer 
together — 

If  you  don't  give  us  one 

We'll  take  two, 
The  better  for  us,  sir, 

And  worse  for  you, 

They  were  once  refused  by  a  farmer, 
(who  was  very  much  disliked  by  the  poor 
jfor  his  severity  and  unkindness,)  and 
accordingly  they  determined  to  make  him 
repent.  He  kept  a  sharp  look  out  over 
his  faggot  pile,  but  forgot  that  something 
else  might  be  stolen.  The  boys  got  into 
his  backyard  and  extracted  a  new  pump, 
which  had  not  been  properly  fixed,  and 
bore  it  off  in  triumph  to  the  green,  where  it 

•  Dr.  Aikin's  Athenaeum. 


was  burnt  amidst  the  loud  acclamations 
of  the  young  rogues  generally. 

All  the  wood,  &c.  which  has  been  pre- 
viously collected,  is  brought  into  the  mid- 
dle of  the  close  where  the  effigy  of  poor 
Guy  is  burnt.  A  figure  is  made  (similar 
to  one  of  those  carried  about  London 
streets,)  intending  to  represent  the  con- 
spirator, and  placed  at  the  top  of  a  high 
pole,  with  the  fuel  all  around.  Previous 
to  lighting  it,  poor  Guy  is  shot  at  by 
all  who  have  the  happiness  to  possess  guns 
for  the  purpose,  and  pelted  with  squibs, 
crackers,  &c.  This  fun  continues  about 
an  hour,  and  then  the  pile  is  lighted,  the 
place  echoes  with  huzzas,  guns  keep  up 
perpetual  reports,  fireworks  are  flying  in 
all  directions,  and  the  village  bells  merrily 
ring.  The  fire  is  kept  up  a  considerable 
time,  and  it  is  a  usual  custom  for  a  large 
piece  of  "  real  Wiltshire  bacon"  to  be 
dressed  by  it,  which  is  taken  to  the  public- 
house,  together  with  potatoes  roasted  in 
the  ashes  of  the  bonfire,  and  a  jovial  re- 
past is  made.  As  the  fire  decreases,  suc- 
cessive quantities  of  potatoes  are  dressed 
in  the  embers  by  the  rustics,  who  seem  to 
regard  them  as  the  great  delicacies  of  the 
night. 

There  is  no  restraint  put  on  the  loyal 
zeal  of  these  good  folks,  and  the  fire  is 
maintained  to  a  late  hour.  I  remember, 
on  one  occasion,  hearing  the  guns  firing 
as  I  lay  in  bed  between  two  and  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  public-house 
is  kept  open  nearly  all  night.  Ale  flows 
plentifully,  and  it  is  not  spared  by  the 
revellers.  They  have  a  noisy  chorus, 
which  is  intended  as  a  toast  to  his  majesty 
it  runs  thus  : — 

My  brave  lads  remember 

The  fifth  of  November, 
Gunpowder  treason  and  plot, 

We  will  drink,  smoke,  and  sing,  boys. 

And  our  bells  they  shall  ring,  boys, 

And  here's  health  to  our  king,  boys, 
For  he  shall  not  be  forgot. 

Their  merriment  continues  till  morning, 
when  they  generally  retire  to  rest  very 
much  inebriated,  or,  as  they  term  it, 
"  merry,"  or  "  top  heavy." 

I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  reading 
other  communications  in  your  interesting 
work  on  this  good  old  English  custom ; 
and  beg  to  remain, 

Dear  Sir,  &c. 

C.  T. 
October  20,  1826. 

If  the  collections  formerly  published  as 


1381 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  6. 


1362 


"  State  Poems"  were  to  receive  additions, 
the  following  from  a  journal  of  1796, 
might  be  included  as  frolicsome  and 
curious. 

SONG  ON  THE  FIFTH  OF  NOVEMBER. 

Some  twelvemonths  ago, 

A  hundred  or  so, 
The  pope  went  to  visit  the  devil, 

And  if  you'll  attend, 

You'll  find,  to  a  friend, 
Old  Nick  can  behave  very  civil. 

How  do'st  do,  quoth  the  seer, 

What  a  plague  brought  you  here ; 
I  suppose  'twas  some  whimsical  maggot — 

Come  draw  tow'rds  the  fire, 

I  pr'lhee  sit  nigher ; 
Here,  sirrah,  lay  on  t'other  faggot. 

You're  welcome  to  hell, 

I  hope  friends  are  well, 
A  t  Paris,  Madrid,  and  at  Rome  ; 

But,  since  you  elope, 

I  suppose,  honest  pope, 
The  conclave  will  hang  out  the  broom. 

All  jesting  aside, 

His  Holiness  cried, 
Give  the  pope  and  the  devil  their  dues  ; 

Believe  me,  old  dad, 

I'll  make  thy  heart  glad 
For  faith  I  have  brought  thee  rare  news. 

There's  a  plot  to  beguile 

An  obstinate  isle, 
Great  Britain,  that  heretic  nation, 

Who  so  slyly  behav'd 

In  hopes  to  be  sav'd 
By  the  help  of  a  curs' d  reformation 

We  shall  never  have  done 

If  we  burn  one  by  one, 
Nor  destroy  the  whole  heretic  rare  ; 

For  when  one  is  dead, 

Like  the  fam'd  hydra's  head, 
Another  springs  up  in  his  place. 

Believe  me,  Old  Nick, 

We'll  show  them  a  trick, 
A  trick  that  shall  serve  for  the  nonce, 

For  this  day  before  dinner, 

Or  else  I'm  a  sinner, 
We'll  kill  all  their  leaders  at  once. 

When  the  parliament  sits 

And  all  try  their  wits 
ID  consulting  of  old  mealy  papers, 

We'll  give  them  a  greeting 

Shall  break  up  their  meeting 
And  set  them  all  cutting  their  capew. 


There's  powder  enough 

And  combustible  stuff 
I?,  thirty  and  odd  trusty  barrels  ; 

We'll  send  them  together 

The  Lord  can  tell  whuher, 
And  decide  at  one  blow  all  their  quarrels. 

When  the  king  and  his  son 

And  the  parliament's  gone, 
And  the  people  are  left  in  the  lurch. 

Things  will  take  their  old  station 

In  yon  cursed  nation 
And  I'll  be  the  head  of  the  church. 

These  words  were  scarce  said, 

When  in  popt  the  head 
Of  an  old  jesuistical  wight 

Who  cried  you're  mistaken 

They've  all  sav'd  their  bacon, 
And  Jemmy  still  stinks  of  the  fright. 

Then  Satan  was  struck, 

And  cried  'tis  ill  luck, 
But  you  for  your  news  shall  be  thanked, 

So  he  call'd  at  ihe  door 

Six  devils  or  more 
And  toss'd  the  poor  priest  in  a  blanket. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     .  .  .  .  42  •  32. 


Michaelmas  Term  begins. 

LEONARD. 

St.  Leonard  is  retained  in  the  church  of 
England  calendar  and  almanacs,  from  his 
ancient  popularity  in  Romish  times.  He 
is  the  litular  saint  of  many  of  our  great 
churches,  and  was  particularly  invoked  in 
behalf  of  prisoners. 

A  list  of  holydays  published  at  Wor- 
cester, in  1240,  ordains  St.  Leonard's  fes- 
tival to  be  kept  a  half-holyday,  enjoins 
the  hearing  of  mass,  and  prohibits  all  la- 
bour except  that  of  the  plough. 

St.  Leonard  was  a  French  nobleman  in 
the  court  of  Clovis  I.,  where  he  was  con- 
verted by  St.  Remigius,  or  Remy  ;  be- 
came a  monk,  built  an  oratory  for  him- 
self in  a  forest  at  Nobilac,  near  Limoges, 
lived  on  heibs  and  fruits,  and  formed  a 
community,  which  after  his  death  was 
a  flourishing  monastery  under  the  name 
of  St.  Leonard  le  Noblat.  He  was  re- 
markable for  charity  towards  captives  and 
prisoners,  and  died  about  559,  with  the 
reputation  of  having  worked  miracles  in 
their  behalf*  _ 

*  A'ban  Butler. 


1383 


THE  EVELtY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  7,  8. 


1384 


The  legend  of  St.  Leonard  relates  that 
there  was  no  water  within  a  mile  of  his 
monastery,  "  wherfore  he  did  do  make  a 
pyt  all  drye,  the  which  he  fylled  with 
water  by  his  prayers — and  he  shone  there 
by  so  grele  myracles,  that  who  that  was 
in  prison,  and  called  his  name  in  ayde, 
anone  his  bondes  and  fetters  were  broken, 
and  went  awaye  without  ony  gaynsayenge 
frely,  and  came  presentyng  to  hym  theyr 
chaynes  or  yrens." 

It  is  particularly  related  that  one  of 
St.  Leonard's  converts  "  was  taken  of  a 
tyraunt,"  which  tyrant,  considering  by 
whom  his  prisoner  was  protected,  deter- 
mined so  to  secure  him  against  Leonard, 
as  to  "  make  hym  paye  for  his  raunsom 
a  thousand  shyllynges."  Therefore,  said 
the  tyrant,  "  I  shall  go  make  a  ryght 
grete  and  depe  pyt  vnder  the  erth  in  my 
toure,  and  I  shall  cast  hym  therin  bounden 
with  many  bondes  ;  and  I  shal  do  make 
a  chest  of  tree  vpon  the  mouth  of  the  pyt, 
and  shall  make  my  knyghtes  to  lye  therin 
all  armed ;  and  how  be  it  that  yf  Leon- 
arde  breke  the  yrons,  yet  shall  he  not 
entre  into  it  vnder  the  erth."  Having 
done  as  he  said,  the  prisoner  called  on  St. 
Leonard,  who  at  night  "came  and  turned 
the  chest  wherein  the  knyghtes  laye  armed, 
and  closed  them  therein,  lyke  as  deed 
men  ben  in  a  tombe,  and  after  entred 
into  the  pyt  with  grete  lyght,"  and  he 
spoke  to  the  prisoner,  from  whom  the 
chains  fell  off,  and  he  "  toke  hym  in  his 
armes  and  bare  hym  out  of  the  toure — 
and  sette  nym  at  home  in  his  hous."  And 
other  great  marvels  are  told  of  St.  Leonard 
as  true  as  this.* 

The  miracles  wrought  by  St.  Leonard 
in  releasing  prisoners  continued  after  his 
death,  but  at  this  time  the  saint  has  ceased 
from  interposing  in  their  behalf  even  on 
his  festival ;  which,  being  the  first  day  of 
Michaelmas  term,  and  therefore  the  day 
whereon  writs  issued  since  the  Trinity 
term  are  made  returnable,  would  be  a 
convenient  season  for  the  saint's  interpo- 
sition. 

This  day  the  long  vocation  o'er, 
And  lawyers  go  to  work  once  more  ; 
With  their  materials  all  provided, 
That  they  may  have  the  cause  decided. 
The  plaintiff  he  brings  in  his  bill, 
He'll  have  his  cause,  cost  what  it  will  ; 
Till  afterwards  comes  the  defendant, 
And  is  resolved  to  make  an  end  on't. 

•  Golden  Legena. 


And  having  got  all  things  in  fitness, 
Supplied  with  money  and  with  witness ; 
And  makes  a  noble  bold  defence, 
Backed  with  material  evidence. 
The  proverb  is,  one  cause  is  good 
Until  the  other's  understood. 
They  thunder  out  to  little  purpose, 
Witli  certiorari,  habeas  corpus, 
Their  replicandos,  writs  of  error, 
To  fill  the  people's  hearts  with  terror  ; 
And  if  the  lawyer  do  approve  it, 
To  chancery  they  must  remove  it : 
And  then  the  two  that  were  so  warm, 
Must  leave  it  to  another  term ; 
Till  they  go  home  and  work  for  more, 
To  spend  as  they  have  done  before. 

Poor  fiobin. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDHK 
Mean  Temperature  ...  43  •  40. 

^obember  7. 

ORIGIN  OF  THE  LONDON  GAZETTK. 

On  the  7th  day  of  November,  1665,  the 
first  "  Gazette"  in  England  was  published 
at  Oxford  ;  the  court  being  there  at  that 
time,  on  account  of  the  plague.  On  the 
removal  of  the  court  to  London,  the  title 
was  changed  to  the  "  London  Gazette." 
The  "  Oxford  Gazette"  was  published  on 
Tuesdays,  the  London  on  Saturdays  :  and 
these  have  continued  to  be  the  days  ot 
publication  ever  since. 

The  word  gazette  originally  meant  a 
newspaper,  or  printed  account  of  the 
transactions  of  all  the  countries  in  the 
known  world,  in  a  loose  sheet  or  half 
sheet ;  but  the  term  is  with  us  confined 
to  that  paper  of  news  now  published  by 
authority.  It  derived  its  name  from 
gazetta,  a  kind  of  small  coin  formerly  cur- 
rent at  Venice,  which  was  the  usual  price 
of  the  first  newspaper  printed  there.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ....  42  •  92 


8. 


LORD  MAYOR  OF  LONDON. 
On  this  day  the  chief  magistrate  elect 
of  the  metropolis  is  sworn  into  office  at 
Guildhall,    and    to-morrow  is  the  grand 
festival  of  the  corporation. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  44  •  27. 

*  Dutl  .'t  C!  ronoiogical  Exercises. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  9. 


J3P6 


This 


9. 

LORD  MAYOR'S  DAY. 

great  day  in  the  calendar"  of 


the  city,  is  the  subject  of  the  following 
whimsical  adaptation. 


Now  countless  turbots  and  unnumbered  soles 
Fill  the  wide  kitchens  of  each  livery  hall : 
From  pot  to  spit,  to  kettle,  stew,  and  pan, 
The  busy  hum  of  greasy  scullions  sounds, 
That  the  fixed  beadles  do  almost  perceive 
The  secret  dainties  of  each  other's  watch: 
Fire  answers  fire,  and  through  their  paly  flames 
Each  table  sees  the  other's  bill  of  fare  : 
Cook  threatens  cook  in  high  and  saucy  vaunt 
Of  rare  and  newmade  dishes  ;  confectioners, 
Both  pastrycooks  and  fruiterers  in  league, 
With  candied  art  their  rivets  closing  up, 
Give  pleasing  notice  of  a  rich  dessert. 


In  the  subjoined  humorous  account 
of  a  former  civic  procession  and  festival, 
there  are  some  features  which  do  not 
belong  to  the  present  celebrations. 

LORD  MAYOR'S  DAY,  1773. 
To  describe  the  adventures  and  incidents 
of  this  important  day  in  the  city  annals,  it 
is  very  necessary  to  revert  to  the  preced- 
ing evening.  It  is  not  now  as  it  was 
formerly— 

"  That  sober  citizens  get  drunk  by  nine." 

Had  Pope  lived  in  the  auspicious 
reign  of  George  III.,  he  would  have  in- 
dulged us  at  least  two  hours,  and  found  a 
rhyme  for  eleven, 

On  the  evening  of  the  8th  of  Novem- 
ber, the  stands  of  several  livery  companies 
clogged  the  passage  of  Cheapside  and  the 
adjacent  streets.  The  night  was  passed 
in  erecting  the  temporary  sheds,  sacred 
to  city  mirth,  ruby  gills,  and  round 
paunches.  The  earliest  dawn  of  the 
morning  witnessed  the  industry  of  the 
scavengers  ;  and  the  broom-maker  was, 
for  once,  the  first  patriot  in  the  city. 

This  service  done,  repair  we  to  Guildhall. 

At  five  in  the  morning  the  spits  groaned 
beneath  the  ponderous  sirloins.  These, 
numerous  as  large,  proved  that  the  t(  roast 
beef  of  ( )ld  England"  is  still  thonght  an 
ornament  to  our  tables.  The  chandeliers 
in  the  hall  were  twelve  in  number,  each 
provided  with  forty-eight  wax  candles; 
exclusive  of  which  there  were  three  large 
glass  lamps,  two  globular  lamps  under 
the  giants,  and  wax  candles  in  girandoles. 
Hustings  were  raised  at  each  end  of  the 
hall  for  the  accommodation  of  the  superior 


company,  and  tables  laid  through  the 
centre  for  persons  of  lower  rank.  One 
advantage  arose  from  the  elevation  at 
the  west  end  of  the  hall,  for  the  inscrip- 
tion under  Beckford's  statue  was  thereby 
rendered  perfectly  legible.  Tables  were 
spread  in  the  court  of  king's-bench, 
which  was  provided  with  one  chandelier 
of  forty-eight  candles.  All  the  seats  were 
either  matted,  hung  with  tapestry,  or 
covered  with  crimson  cloth,  and  the  whole 
made  a  very  noble  appearance. 

By  eleven  o'clock  the  windows  from 
Blackfriars-bridge,  to  the  north  end  of 
King  street,  began  to  exhibit  such  a  num- 
ber of  angelic  faces,  as  would  tempt  a 
man  to  wish  for  the  honour  of  chief  ma- 
gistracy, if  it  were  only  to  be  looked  at 
by  so  many  fine  eyes.  There  was  scarce 
a  house  that  could  not  boast  a  Venus  for 
its  tenant.  At  fifteen  minutes  past  ten 
the  common  serjeant  entered  Guildhall, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  new  lord-mayor, 
preceded  by  four  footmen  in  elegant 
liveries  of  brown  and  gold,  was  brought 
into  the  hall  in  a  superb  sedan  chair. 
Next  came  alderman  Plomer,  and  then 
the  recorder,  who  was  so  mnch  afflicted 
with  the  gout,  that  it  required  the  full 
exertion  of  his  servant's  strength  to  sup- 
port him.  Mr.  Alderman  Thomas  ar- 
rived soon  after,  then  the  two  sheriffs,  and 
lastly  Mr.  Crosby.  There  being  no  other 
alderman,  Mr.  Peckham  could  not  be 
sworn  into  his  office.  At  twenty  minutes 
past  eleven  the  lord  mayor  left  the  hall, 
being  preceded  by  the  city  sword  and 
mace,  and  followed  by  the  alderman  and 
sheriffs.  The  breakfast  in  the  council 
chamber,  at  Guildhall,  consisted  of  six 
sirloins  of  beef,  twelve  tureens  «>*  lour., 


1387 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  9. 


13H8 


mulled  wines,  pastry,  &c.  The  late 
lord-mayor  waited  at  the  end  of  King- 
street  to  join  the  procession.  As  soon  as 
his  carriage  moved,  the  mob  began  to 
groan  and  hiss,  on  which  he  burst  into  so 
immoderate  a  fit  of  laughter,  evidently 
unforced,  that  the  mob  joined  in  one 
laughing  chorus,  and  seemed  to  wonder 
what  they  had  hi?sed  at. 

The  procession  by  water  was  as  usual, 
but  rather  tedious,  as  the  tide  was  con- 
trary. The  ceremonies  at  Westminster- 
hall  being  gone  through  in  the  customary 
manner,  the  company  returned  by  water 
to  Blackfriars-bridge,  where  the  lord- 
mayor  landed  at  about  three  o'clock,  and 
proceeded  in  solemn  state  to  Guildhall, 
where  the  tables  groaned  beneath  the 
weight  of  solids  and  dainties  of  every  kind 
in  season  :  the  dishes  of  pastry,  &c.  were 
elegantly  adorned  with  flowers  of  various 
sorts  interspersed  with  bay-leaves ;  and 
many  an  honest  freeman  got  a  nose-gay 
at  the  city  expense.  A  superb  piece  of 
confectionary  was  placed  on  the  lord- 
mayor's  table,  and  the  whole  entertain- 
ment was  splendU  and  magnificent.  Dur- 
ing the  absence  of  the  lord-mayor,  such 
of  the  city  companies  as  have  not  barges 
paraded  the  streets  in  the  accustomed 

Scarce  the  shrill  trumpet  or  the  echoing  horn 
With  zeal  impatient  chides  the  tardy  morn, 
When  Thames,  meandering  as  thy  channel  strays, 
Its  ambient  wave  Augusta's  Lord  surveys  : 
No  prouder  triumph,  when  with  eastern  pride 
The  burnished  galley  burst  upon  the  tide, 
Thy  banks  of  Cydnus  say — tho'  Egypt's  queen 
With  soft  allurements  graced  the  glowing  scene  , 
Though  silken  streamers  waved  and  all  was  mute, 
Save  the  soft  trillings  of  the  mellow  lute  ; 
Though  spicy  torches  chased  the  lingering  gloom, 
And  zephyrs  blew  in  every  gale  perfume. 

But  soon,  as  pleased  they  win  their  wat'ry  way, 
And  dash  from  bending  oars  the  scattered  spray, 
The  dome  wide-spreading  greets  th'  exploring  eyes, 
Where  erst  proud  Rnfus  bade  his  courts  arise. 
Here  borne,  our  civic  chief  the  brazen  store, 
With  pointing  fingers  numbers  o'er  and  o'er ; 
Then  pleased  around  him  greets  his  jocund  train, 
And  seeks  in  proud  array  his  new  domain. 
Returning  now,  the  ponderous  coach  of  state 
Rolls  o'er  the  road  that  groans  beneath  its  weight ; 
And  as  slow  paced,  amid  the  shouting  throng, 
Its  massive  frame  majestic  moves  along, 
The  prancing  steeds  with  gilded  trappings  gay, 
Proud  of  the  load,  their  sceptred  lord  convey. 

Behind,  their  posts,  a  troop  attendant  gain, 
Press  the  gay  throng,  and  ioin  the  smiling  train  * 


manner ;  and  the  man  in  armour  exhibit- 
ed to  the  delight  of  the  little  masters  and 
misses,  and  the  astonishment  of  many  a 
gaping  rustic.  The  lord-mayor  appeared 
to  be  in  good  health  and  spirits,  and  to 
enjoy  the  applausive  shouts  of  his  fellow- 
citizens,  probably  from  a  consciousness 
of  having  deserved  them.  Mr.  Gates,  the 
city  marshal,  was  as  fine  as  powder  and 
ribbons  and  gold  could  make  him ;  his 
horse,  too,  was  almost  as  fine,  and  nearly 
as  stately  as  the  rider.  Mr.  Wilkes  came 
through  the  city  in  a  chair,  carried  on 
men's  shoulders,  just  before  the  procession, 
in  order  to  keep  it  up,  and  be  saluted 
with  repeated  shouts.  The  lord-mayor's 
coach  was  elegant,  and  his  horses  (long- 
tailed  blacks)  the  finest  that  have  been 
seen  for  many  years.  There  were  a  great 
number  of  constables  round  Mr.  Alder- 
man Townsend's  coach ;  and  a  complaint 
has  since  been  made,  that  he  was  grossly 
insulted.  The  night  concluded  as  usual, 
and  many  went  home  at  morning  with 
dirty  clothes  and  bloody  faces.* 


Some  recent  processions  on  lord-mayor's 
day  are  sufficiently  described  by  these 
lines : — 


1389  THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  10. 

While  martial  bands  with  nodding  plumes  appear, 
And  waving  streamers  close  the  gay  career* 

Here  too  a  Chief  the  opening  ranks  display, 
Whose  radient  armour  shoots  a  beamy  ray  ; 
So  Britain  erst  beheld  her  troops  advance, 
And  prostrate  myriads  crouch  beneath  her  lance  : 
But  though  no  more  when  threat'ning  dangers  nigh, 
The  glittering  cuisses  clasp  the  warrior's  thigh  ; 
Aloft  no  more  the  nodding  plumage  bows, 
Or  polished  helm  bedecks  his  manly  brows  ; 
A  patriot  band  still  generous  Britain  boasts, 
To  guard  her  altars  and  protect  her  coasts ; 
From  rude  attacks  her  sacred  name  to  shield, 
And  now,  as  ever,  teach  her  foe  to  yield. 


1300 


Mr.  Alderman  Wood  on  the  first  day  of 
his  second  mayoralty,  in  1816,  deviated 
from  the  usual  procession  by  water,  from 
Westminster-hall  to  London,  and  re- 
turned attended  by  the  corporation,  in 
their  carriages,  through  Parliament-street, 
by  the  way  of  Charing-cross,  along  the 
Strand,  Fleet-street,  and  so  up  Ludgate- 
nill,  and  through  St.  Paul's  churchyard, 
to  Guildhall :  whereon  lord  Sidmouth,  as 
high  steward  of  the  city  and  liberties  of 
Westminster,  officially  protested  against 
the  lord-mayor's  deviation,  "  in  order, 
that  the  same  course  may  not  be  drawn 
into  precedent,  and  adopted  on  any 
future  occasion." 


During  Mr.  Alderman  Wood's  first 
mayoralty  he  committed  to  the  house  of 
correction,  a  working  sugar-baker,  for 
having  left  his  employment  in  conse- 
quence of  a  dispute  respecting  wages. — 
The  prisoner  during  his  confinement 
not  having  received  personal  correction, 
according  to  the  statute,  in  consequence 
of  no  order  to  that  effect  being  specified 
in  the  warrant  of  committal,  he  actually 
brought  an  action  against  the  lord-mayor 
in  the  court  of  common  pleas,  for  non-- 
conformity to  the  law.  It  was  proved 
that  he  had  not  been  whipped,  and  there- 
fore the  jury  were  obliged  to  give  a  far- 
thing damages  ;  but  the  point  of  law  was 
reserved.* 


On  the  6th  of  September,  1776,  the 
then  lord-mayor  of  London,  was  robbed 
near  Turnham-grem  in  his  chaise  and 
four,  in  sight  of  all  his  retinue,  by  a  single 
highwayman,  who  swore  he  would  shoot 


the   first   man   that   made  resistance,  or 
offered  violence.* 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  44  •  72 

10. 

A  FATHER'S  WISHES. 

Richard   Corbet,  bishop   of  Norwich, 
wrote  the  following  excellent  lines 

To  HIS  SON,  VINCENT  CORBET, 

On  his   Birth-day,   November  10,  1630, 
being  then  three  years  old. 

What  I  shall  leave  thee  none  can  tell, 

But  all  shall  say  I  wish  thee  well 

I  wish  thee,  Vin,  before  all  wealth 

Both  bodily  and  ghostly  health  : 

Nor  too  much  wealth,  nor  wit,  come  to  thee, 

So  much  of  either  may  undo  thee. 

I  wish  thee  learning,  not  for  show, 

Enough  for  to  instruct,  and  know  ; 

Not  such  as  gentlemen  require, 

To  prate  at  table,  or  at  fire. 

I  wish  thee  all  thy  mother's  graces, 

Thy  father's  fortunes,  and  his  places. 

I  wish  thee  friends,  and  one  at  court, 

Not  to  build  on,  but  support ; 

To  keep  thee,  not  in  doing  many 

Oppressions,  but  from  suffering  any. 

I  wish  thee  peace  in  all  thy  ways, 

Nor  lazy  nor  contentious  days  ; 

And  when  thy  soul  and  body  part, 

As  innocent  as  now  thou  art.f 


•  Gent  it-man's  Maganne. 


Bishop  Corbet,  a  native  of  Ewell  in 
Surrey,  was  educated  at  Westminster 
school,  and  Christchurch,  Oxford  ;  took 
the  degree  of  M.  A.  in  1605,  entered  into 
holy  orders,  became  doctor  of  divinity, 

•  Gentleman's  Magazine* 

t  Bp.  Corbet's  Poems,  by  Oilrhtirt. 


1391 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  11,13. 


1392 


obtained  a  prebend  in  the  cathedral  of 
Sarum,  and  other  church  preferment,  and 
being  a  man  of  ready  \vit,  was  favoured 
by  king  James  I.,  who  made  him  one  of 
his  chaplains.  In  1618,  he  took  a  journey 
to  France,  of  which  he  wrote  an  amusing 
narrative.  In  1627,  his  majesty  gave  him 
the  deanery  of  Christchurch  ;  in  1629,  he 
was  raised  to  the  bishopric  of  Oxford,  and 
in  1632,  translated  to  that  of  Norwich. 
He  died  in  1635.  The  poems  of  bishop 
Corbet  are  lively  and  amusing  composi- 
tions, such  as  might  have  been  expected 
from  a  man  of  learning  and  genius,  pos- 
sessed of  a  superabundance  of  constitu- 
tional hilarity.  The  latter  quality  appears 
to  have  drawn  him  into  some  excesses, 
not  altogether  consistent  with  the  gravity 
of  his  profession.  After  he  was  a  doctor 
of  divinity,  being  at  a  tavern  in  Abingdon, 
a  ballad-singer  came  into  the  house,  com- 
plaining that  he  could  not  dispose  of  his 
stock  ;  the  doctor,  in  a  frolic,  took  off  his 
gown,  and  assuming  the  ballad-singer's 
leather  jacket,  went  out  into  the  street, 
and  drew  around  him  a  crowd  of  admir- 
ing purchasers.  Perhaps  he  thought  he 
could  divest  himself  of  his  sacerdotal  cha- 
racter with  his  habit  ;  for  it  seems  he  shut 
himself  up  in  his  well-stored  cellar,  with 
his  chaplain,  Dr.  Lushington,  and  taking 
offhis  gown,  exclaimed  :  "  There  goes  the 
doctor  ;"  then  throwing  down  his  episco- 
pal hood,  "  there  goes  the  bishop"  —  after 
which  the  night  was  devoted  to  Bacchus. 
Riding  out  one  day  with  a  Dr.  Stubbins, 
who  was  extremely  fat,  the  coach  was 
overturned,  and  both  fell  into  a  ditch. 
The  bishop,  in  giving  an  account  of  the 
accident,  observed,  that  Dr.  Stubbins  was 
up  to  the  elbows  in  mud,  and  he  was  up 
to  the  elbows  in  Stubbins.  Bishop  Cor- 
bet was  not  distinguished  as  a  divine  ; 
his  sentiments  however  were  liberal,  and 
he  inclined  to  the  Arminian  party,  which 
then  began  to  prevail  in  the  church  of 
England* 

In  the  bishop's  lines  "  to  his  son  on  his 
birth-day,"  there  is  something  of  the  feel- 
ing in  the  wise  man's  supplication,  "  Give 
me  neither  poverty  nor  riches." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  43  .  72. 


ST.  MARTIN. 
The  customs  of  this  festival,  which  i« 

•  Qcrraral  Biographical  Dictionary,  J826,  vol.  ». 


retained  in  the  church  of  England  calen- 
dar and  almanacs,  are  related  under  th« 
day  in  last  year's  volume. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  44  •  40. 


ADMIRAL  VERNON'S  BIRTH-DAY. 
To  the  mention  of  the  pageant  "  at 
Chancery-lane  end,"  in  honour  of  admiral 
Vernon  on  this  day,  in  the  year  1740,* 
may  be  added  some  ingenious  verses 
commemorative  of  Vernon's  exploits.  They 
were  written  in  the  same  year  by  John 
Price,  a  land-waiter  in  the  port  of  Poole, 
and  are  preserved  in  Mr.  Raw's  "  Suffolk 
Garland,'*  with  the  following  introduc- 
tion :  — 

ADMIRAL  VERNON'S    ANSWER    TO   AD- 
MIRAL HOSIER'S  GHOST. 

In  Dr.  Percy's  "  Reliques  of  Ancient 
Poetry,"  vol.  ii.  p.  376.  is  an  admirable 
ballad,  intituled  "  Hosier's  Ghost,"  being 
an  address  to  admiral  Vernon,  in  Porto- 
Bello  harbour,  by  Mr.  Glover,  the  author 
of  Leonidas.  The  case  of  Hosier  was 
briefly  this  :  — 

In  April,  1726,  he  was  sent  with  a  strong 
fleet  to  the  Spanish  West  Indies,  to  block 
up  the  galleons  in  the  ports  of  that  coun- 
try ;  but  being  restricted  by  his  orders 
from  obeying  the  dictates  of  his  courage, 
he  lay  inactive  on  that  station,  until  he 
became  the  jest  of  the  Spaniards.  He  af- 
terwards removed  to  Carthagena,  and  con- 
tinued cruizing  in  those  seas,  till  fav  the 
greater  part  of  his  crews  perished  by  the 
diseases  of  that  unhealthy  climate.  This 
brave  man,  seeing  his  officers  and  men 
thus  daily  swept  away,  his  ships  exposed 
to  inevitable  destruction,  and  himself 
made  the  sport  of  the  enemy,  is  said  to 
have  died  of  a  broken  heart.  The  ballad 
concludes  — 

"  O'er  these  waves,  for  ever  mourning, 

Shall  we  roam,  depriv'd  of  rest, 
If  to  Britain's  shores  returning, 
You  neglect  my  just  request: 

After  this  proud  foe  subduing, 

When  your  patriot  friends  you  see, 

Think  on  vengeance  for  my  ruin, 
And  for  England  —  sham'd  in  me." 

In  1739,  vice-admiral  Vernon  was  ap- 
pointed commander-in-chief  of  a  squadron 

*  In  vol.  i.  col.  1478. 


1393 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  12. 


1394 


then  fitting  out  for  destroying  the  settle- 
ments of  the  Spaniards  in  the  West  Indies ; 
and,  weighing  anchor  from  Spithead  on 
the  23d  of  July,  arrived  in  sight  of  Porto- 
Beilo,  with  six  ships  only,  under  his  com- 
mand, on  the  20th  of  November  following. 
The  next  day  he  commenced  the  attack  of 
that  town ;  when,  after  a  most  furious  en- 
gagement on  both  sides,  it  was  taken  on 
the  22d,  together  with  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  cannon,  mortars,  and  ammunition, 
and  also  two  Spanish  ships  of  war.  He 
then  blew  up  the  fortifications,  and  eva- 
cuated the  place  for  want  of  land  forces 
sufficient  to  retain  it ;  but  first  distributed 
ten  thousand  dollars,  which  had  been  sent 
to  Porto- Bello  for  paying  the  Spanish 
troops,  among  the  forces  for  their  bravery. 
The  two  houses  of  parliament  joined  in 
an  address  of  congratulation  upon  this 
success  of  his  majesty's  arms  ;  and  the  na- 
tion, in  general,  was  wonderfully  elated 
by  an  exploit,  which  was  certainly  magni- 
fied much  above  its  intrinsic  merit. 

Hosier !  with  indignant  sorrow, 

I  have  heard  thy  mournful  tale 
And,  if  heav'n  permit,  to-morrow 

Hence  our  warlike  fleet  shall  sail. 
O'er  those  hostile  waves,  wide  roaming, 

We  will  urge  our  bold  design, 
With  the  blood  of  thousands  foaming, 

For  our  country's  wrongs  and  thine. 

On  that  day,  when  each  brave  fellow, 

Who  now  triumphs  here  with  me, 
Stornvd  and  plunder'd  Porto-Bello, 

All  my  thoughts  were  full  of  thee. 
Thy  disastrous  fate  alarm'd  me ; 

Fierce  thy  image  glar'd  on  high, 
And  with  gen'rous  ardour  wann'd  me, 

To  revenge  thy  fall,  or  die. 
From  their  lofty  ships  descending, 

Thro'  the  flood,  in  firm  array, 
To  the  destin'd  city  bending, 

My  lov'd  sailors  work'd  their  way. 
Strait  the  foe,  with  horror  trembling, 

Quits  in  haste  his  batter'd  walls ; 
And  in  accents,  undissembling, 

As  he  flies,  for  mercy  calls. 

Carthagena,  tow'ring  wonder  ! 

At  the  daring  deed  dismay'd, 
Shall  ere  long  by  Britain's  thunder, 

Smoking  in  the  dust  be  laid. 
Thou,  and  these  pale  spectres  sweeping, 

Restless,  o'er  this  wat  ry  round, 
Whose  wan  cheeks  are  stain'd  with  weeping, 

Pleas'd  shall  listen  to  the  sound. 
Still  rememb'ring  thy  sad  story, 

To  thy  injur'd  ghost  I  swear, 
By  my  hopes  of  future  glory, 

War  shall  be  my  cons*ant  care : 


And  I  ne'er  will  cease  pursuing 
Spain's  proud  sons  from  sea  to  sea, 

With  just  vengeance  for  thy  ruin, 
And  for  England  sham'd  in  thee. 


As  we  are  to-day  on  a  naval  topic,  it 
seems  fitting  to  introduce  a  popular 
usage  among  sailors,  in  the  words  of 
captain  Edward  Hall,  R.  N.,  who  com- 
municated the  particulars  to  Dr.  Forster, 
on  the  30th  of  October,  1823. 

CROSSING  THE  LINE. 

The  following  is  an  account  of  the  cus- 
tom of  shaving  at  the  tub  by  Neptune,  as 
practised  on  board  vessels  crossing  the 
Equator,  Tropics,  and  Europa  Point. 
The  origin  of  it  is  supposed  to  be  very 
ancient,  and  it  is  commonly  followed  on 
board  foreign,  as  well  as  British  ships. 
Europa  Point  at  Gibraltar  being  one  of 
the  places,  it  may  have  arisen  at  the  time 
when  that  was  considered  the  western 
boundary  of  Terra  Firma. 

On  the  departure  of  a  vessel  from  Eng- 
land by  either  of  the  aforesaid  routes, 
much  ingenuity  is  exerted  by  the  old 
seamen  and  their  confederates  to  discover 
the  uninitiated,  and  it  is'  seldom  that  any 
escape  detection.  A  few  days  previous  to 
arriving  at  the  scene  of  action,  much  mys- 
tery and  reserve  is  observed  among  the 
ship's  company :  they  are  then  secretly 
collecting-  stale  soapsuds,  water,  &c.,  ar- 
ranging the  dramatis  personae,  and  pre- 
paring material.  At  this  time,  also,  the 
novices,  who  are  aware  of  what  is  going 
forward,  send  their  forfeits  to  the  captain 
of  the  forecastle,  who  acts  as  Neptune's 
deputy ;  the  forfeit  is  either  a  bottle  of 
rum,  or  a  dollar :  and  I  never  knew  it 
refused,  except  from  a  cook's  mate  who 
had  acted  negligently,  and  from  a  ste- 
ward's mate  who  was  inclined  to  trick  the 
people  when  serving  provisions. 

On  board  of  a  man  of- war  it  is  generally 
performed  on  a  grand  scale.  I  have  wit- 
nessed it  several  times,  but  the  best  exe- 
cuted was  on  board  a  ship  of  the  line  of 
which  I  was  lieutenant,  bound  to  the 
West  Indies.  On  crossing  the  Tropic,  a 
voice,  as  if  at  a  distance,  and  from  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  cried  "  Ho,  the  ship  ahoy ! 
1  shall  come  on  board  :"  this  was  from  a 
person  slung  over  the  bows,  near  the 
water,  speaking  through  his  hands.  Pre- 
sently two  men  of  large  stature  came  over 
the  bows  ;  they  had  hideous  masks  on : 
one  personated  Neptune — he  was  naked 


s  TMBU  SMI  1 1 1 ' 


Tct 


1397 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  13,  14. 


13Q3 


The  morn  was  beautiful,  the  storm  gone  by; 
Three  days  had  pass'd  ;  I  saw  the  peaceful  main, 
One  molten  mirror,  one  illumined  plane, 
Clear  as  the  blue,  sublime,  o'er-arching  sky. 
On  shore  that  lonely  vessel  caught  mine  eye; 
Her  bow  was  sea-ward,  all  equipt  her  train, 
Yet  to  the  sun  she  spread  her  wings  in  vain, 
Like  a  maim'd  eagle,  impotent  to  fly, 
There  fix'd  as  if  for  ever  to  abide  : 
Far  down  the  beach  had  roll'd  the  low  neap-tide, 
Whose  mingling  murmur  faintly  lull'd  the  ear, 
"  Is  this,"  methought,  "  is  this  the  doom  of  pride, 
Check'd  in  the  outset  of  thy  proud  career, 
Ingloriously  to  rot  by  piecemeal  here  7" 

Spring-tides  return'd,  and  fortune  smiled ;  the  bay 
Received  the  rushing  ocean  to  its  breast ; 
While  waves  on  waves  innumerable  press, 
Seem'd,  with  the  prancing  of  their  proud  array, 
Sea-horses,  flash'd  with  foam,  and  sporting  spray : 
Their  power  and  thunder  broke  that  vessel's  rest ; 
Slowly,  with  new-expanding  life  possest, 
To  her  own  element  she  glid  away ; 
There,  buoyant,  bounding  like  the  polar  whale, 
That  takes  his  pastime,  every  joyful  sail 
Was  to  the  freedom  of  the  world  unfurl'd, 
While  right  and  left  the  parting  surges  curl'd. 
— Go,  gallant  bark,  with  such  a  tide  and  gale, 
111  pledge  thee  to  a  voyage  round  the  world ! 

Montgomery. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     ....  43 


13. 


85. 


Brit.» 


THE    "  BRIDEWELL    BOYS,"    AND   BAR- 

THOLOMEW AND  SOUTHWARK  FAIRS. 

On  the  13th  of  November,  1755,  at  a 
court  of  the  governors  of  Bridewell  hos- 
pital, a  memorable  report  was  made  from 
the  committee,  who  inquired  into  the 
behaviour  of  the  boys  at  Bartholomew  and 
Southwark  fairs,  when  some  of  them 
were  severely  corrected  and  continued, 
and  others,  after  their  punishment,  were 
ordered  to  be  stripped  of  the  hospital 
clothing  and  discharged.* 

The  "  bridewell-boys"  were,  within  re- 
collection, a  body  of  youths  distinguished 
by  a  particular  dress,  and  turbulence  of 
manners.  They  infested  the  streets  to 
the  terror  of  the  peaceable,  and  being 


*  See  vol.i.  col.  1473. 
.  Gentleman'!  Magazir.t. 


allowed  the  privilege  of  going  to  fires, 
did  more  mischief  by  their  audacity 
and  perverseness,  than  they  did  good  by 
working  the  Bridewell  engine.  These 
disorders  occasioned  them  to  be  deprived 
of  their  distinguishing  costume,  and  put 
under  proper  arts'-masters,  with  ability 
to  teach  them  useful  trades,  and  authority 
to  controul  and  regulate  their  conduct. 
The  bridewell  boys  at  this  time  are  never 
heard  of  in  any  commotion,  and  may  now, 
therefore,  be  regarded  as  peaceable  and 
industrious  lads. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  42  •  85 


A  TRIFLING  MISTAKE. 
The  "  Carbonari,"  a  political  associa- 
tion in  the  Italian  states,  occasioned  con- 
siderable disturbance  to  the  continental 
governments,  who  interfered  to  suppress 
an  order  of  persons  that  kept  them 
in  continual  alarm :  "  His  Holiness " 
especially  desired  their  suppression 


1399 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  15. 


1400 


An  article  from  Rome,  dated  the  14th 
of  November,  1820,  say%  "  Bishop  Ben- 
venuti,  vice-legate  at  Macerata,  having 
received  orders  from  the  holy  father  to 
have  all  the  Carbonari  in  that  city  ar- 
rested and  sent  to  Rome,  under  a  good 
escort,  proceeded  forthwith  to  execute  the 
order.  In  consequence  he  had  all  the 
colliers  by  trade  (Charbonniers  de  profes- 
sion) which  he  could  find  within  his  reach 
— men,  women,  and  children,  arrested, 
and  sent  manacled  to  Rome,  where  they 
were  closely  imprisoned.  The  tribunal 
having  at  length  proceeded  to  examine 
them,  and  being  convinced  that  these  Car- 
bonari had  been  colliers  ever  since  they 
were  born,  acquitted  them,  and  sent  them 
to  their  homes.  Bishop  Benvenuti  was 
deprived  of  his  employment."* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  43  •  25. 


15. 


Machutui.f 


HUNGERFORD  REVEL,  WlLTS. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Booh. 

October  20,  1826. 

Dear  Sir,  —  In  your  last  week's  number 
of  the  Every-Day  Book,  your  correspon- 
dent *,  *,  P.  gives  a  short  account  of 
Blackford,  the  backsword-player,  and  also 
mentions  «ne  of  his  descendants  who 
signalized  himself  at  the  "  Hungerford 
revel"  about  two  years  since.  In  the  year 
1820,  I  visited  the  latter  revel;  perhaps 
a  description  may  be  acceptable  to  you, 
and  amusing  to  your  readers. 

I  think  it  may  be  generally  allowed 
that  Wiltshire,  and  the  western  counties, 
keep  up  their  primitive  customs  more 
than  any  counties.  This  is  greatly  to  the 
credit  of  the  inhabitants;  for  these  usages 
tend  to  promote  cheerful  intercourse  and 
friendly  feeling  among  the  residents  in 
the  different  villages,  who  on  such  occa- 
sions assemble  together  In  Wiltshire  I 
have  remarked  various  customs,  particu- 
larly at  Christmas,  which  I  have  never 
seen  or  heard  of  in  any  other  place.  If 
these  customs  were  witnessed  by  a 
stranger,  I  am  sure  he  must  fancy  the 
good  old  days  of  yore,  where  every  sea- 


»  New  Tunes. 
+  See  vol.  i.  col.  1486. 


son  brought  its  particular  custom,  whicr 
was  always  strictly  adhered  to. 

Wiltshire  consists  of  beautiful  and  ex- 
tensive downs,  and  rich  meadow  and 
pasture  lands,  which  support  some  of  the 
finest  dairies  and  farms  that  can  be  met 
with  in  the  kingdom.  The  natives  are  a 
very  strong  and  hardy  set  of  men,  and  are 
particularly  fond  of  robust  sports ;  their 
chief  and  favourite  amusement  is  back- 
swording,  or  singlestick,  for  which  they 
are  as  greatly  celebrated  as  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  adjoining  counties,  Somerset- 
shire and  Gloucestershire. 

At  this  g-ame  there  are  several  rules 
observed.  They  play  with  a  large  round 
stick,  which  must  be  three  feet  long,  with 
a  basket  prefixed  to  one  end  as  a  guard 
for  the  hand.  The  combatants  throw  off 
their  hats  and  upper  garments,  with 
the  exception  of  the  shirt,  and  have 
the  left  hand  tied  to  the  side,  so  that 
they  cannot  defend  themselves  with  that 
hand.  They  brandish  the  stick  over 
the  head,  guarding  off  the  adversary's 
blows,  and  striking  him  whenever  an  op- 
portunity occurs.  Great  skill  is  often 
used  in  the  defence.  I  have  seen  two 
men  play  for  upwards  of  half  an  hour 
without  once  hitting  each  other.  The 
blood  must  flow  an  inch  from  some  part 
of  the  head,  before  either  party  is  declared 
victor. 

Blackford,  the  backsword  player,  was  a 
butcher  residing  at  Swindon  ;  he  died  a 
few  years  ago.  His  "  successor "  is  a 
blacksmith  at  Lyddington,  named  iMorris 
Pope,  who  is  considered  the  best  player 
of  the  day,  and  generally  carries  off  the 
prizes  at  the  Hungerford  revel,  which  he 
always  attends.  This ,  revel  is  attended 
by  all  the  best  players  in  Wiltshire  and 
Somersetshire,  between  whom  the  contest 
lies.  To  commence  the  fray,  twenty  very 
excellent  players  are  selected  from  each 
county;  the  contest  lasts  a  considerable 
time,  and  is  always  severe,  but  the  Wilt- 
shire men  are  generally  conquerors.  Their 
principal  characteristics  are  skill,  strength, 
and  courage — this  is  generally  allowed  by 
all  who  are  acquainted  with  them. 

But  Hungerford  revel  is  not  a  scene  of 
contention  alone,  it  consists  of  all  kinds 
of  rustic  sports,  which  afford  capital  fun 
to  the  spectators.  They  may  be  laid  out 
thus— 

1st.  Girls  running  for  "  smock*?'  &c., 
which  is  a  well-known  amusement  at 
country  fairs. 

2d.     Climbing    the  greasy  pols    for   a 


1401 


THE  EVERY-r>AY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  15. 


1402 


piece  of  bacon  which  is  placed  on  the 
top.  This  affords  very  great  amusement, 
as  it  is  a  difficult  thing  to  be  accomplished. 
The  climber,  perhaps,  may  get  near  the 
top  of  the  pole,  and  has  it  in  his  power  to 
hold  himself  up  by  both  hands,  but  the 
moment  he  raises  one  hand  to  unhook  the 
prize,  he  is  almost  sure  to  slide  down 
again  with  great  rapidity,  bearing  all  be- 
low him  who  are  so  foolish  as  to  climb 
after  him. 

3d.  Old  women  drinking  hot  tea  for 
snuff.  Whroever  can  drink  it  the  quickest 
and  hottest  gains  the  prize. 

4th.  Grinning  through  horse-collars. 
Several  Hodges  stand  in  a  row,  each  hold- 
ing a  coiiar ;  whoever  can  make  the  ugliest 
face  through  it  gains  the  prize.  This  feat 
is  also  performed  by  old  women,  and  cer- 
tainly the  latter  are  the  most  amusing. 

5th.  Racing  between  twenty  and  thirty 
old  women  for  a  pound  of  tea.  This  oc- 
casions much  merriment,  and  it  is  some- 
times astonishing  to  see  with  what  agility 
the  old  dames  run  in  order  to  obtain  their 
favourite. 

6th.  Hunting  a  pig  with  a  soaped  tail. 
This  amusement  creates  much  mirth,  and 
in  my  opinion  is  the  most  laughable. — 
Grunter  with  his  tail  well  soaped  is  set 
off  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  and  is  quickly 
pursued  ;  but  the  person  who  can  lay  any 
claim  to  him  must  first  catch  him  by  the 
tail,  and  fairly  detain  him  with  one  hand. 
This  is  an  almost  impossible  feat,  for  the 
pig  finding  himself  pulled  back,  tries  to 
run  forward,  and  the  tail  slips  from  the 
grasp  of  the  holder.  It  is  pretty  well 
known  that  such  is  the  obstinate  nature 
of  a  pig,  that  on  being  pulled  one  way  he 
will  strive  all  he  can  to  go  a  contrary.  In 
illustration  of  this  circumstance,  though 
known  perhaps  to  some  of  your  readers,  I 
may  mention  a  curious  wager  a  few  years 
ago  between  a  pork  butcher  and  a  water- 
man. The  butcher  betted  the  waterman 
that  he  would  make  a  pig  run  over  one  of 
the  bridges,  (I  forget  which,)  quicker  than 
the  waterman  would  row  across  the  river. 
The  auditors  thought  it  impossible ;  the 
bet  was  eagerly  accepted,  and  the  next 
day  was  appointed  for  the  performance. 
When  the  signal  for  starting  was  given, 
the  waterman  began  to  row  with  all  his 
might  and  main,  and  the  butcher  catching 
hold  of  the  tail  of  the  pig  endeavoured  to 
pull  him  back,  upon  which  the  pig  pulled 
forward,  and  with  great  rapidity  ran  over 
the  bridge,  puUin^  the  butcher  after  him, 


who  arrived  on  the  opposite  side  before 
his  opponent. 

7th.  Jumping  in  sacks  for  a  cheese 
An  excellent  caricature  of  jumping  in 
sacks,  published  by  Hunt,  in  Tavistock- 
street,  conveys  a  true  idea  of  the  manner 
in  which  this  amusement  is  carried  on  : 
it  is  truly  laughable.  Ten  or  eleven  can- 
didates are  chosen  ;  they  are  tied  in  sacks 
up  to  their  necks,  and  have  to  jump  about 
five  hundred  yards.  Sometimes  one  will 
out-jump  himself  and  fall;  this  accident 
generally  occasions  the  fall  of  three  or 
four  others,  but  some  one,  being  more 
expert,  gets  on  first,  and  claims  the  prize. 

About  ten  years  ago,  before  Cannon 
the  prize-fighter  was  publicly  known,  as 
a  native  of  Wiltshire  he  naturally  visited 
the  Hungerford  revel.  There  was  a  man 
there  celebrated  over  the  county  for  box- 
ing ;  it  was  said  that  with  a  blow  from 
his  fist  he  could  break  the  jaw-bone  of  an 
ox ;  upon  the  whole  he  was  a  desperate 
fellow,  and  no  one  dared  challenge  him  to 
fight.  Cannon,  however,  challenged  him 
to  jump  in  sacks.  It  was  agreed  that 
they  should  jump  three  times  the  distance 
of  about  five  hundred  yards.  The  first 
time  Cannon  fell,  and  accordingly  his 
opponent  won ;  the  second  time,  Cannon's 
opponent  fell,  and  the  third  time  they 
kept  a  pretty  even  pace  for  about  four 
hundred  yards,  when  they  bounced 
against  each  other  and  both  fell,  so  that 
there  was  a  dispute  who  had  won.  Can- 
non's opponent  was  for  dividing  the 
cheese,  but  he  would  not  submit  to  that, 
and  proposed  jumping  again ;  the  man 
would  not,  but  got  out  of  the  sack,and  dur- 
ing the  time  that  Cannon  was  consulting 
some  friends  on  the  course  to  be  pursued, 
ran  off  with  the  cheese.  Cannon,  how- 
ever, pursued,  and  after  a  considerable 
time  succeeded  in  finding  him.  He  then 
challenged  him  to  fight :  the  battle  lasted 
two  hours,  and  Cannon  was  victor.  This 
circumstance  introduced  him  to  the  sport- 
ing world. 

You  must  allow  me,  dear  sir,  to  assure 
you,  that  it  is  not  my  wish  to  make  your 
interesting  work  a  "  sporting  calendar/' 
by  naming  "  sporting  characters."  I  tell, 
you  this  lest  you  should  not  incline  to 
read  further,  especially  when  you  see 

8th.  Donkey  Racing.  I  will  certainly 
defy  any  one  to  witness  these  races,  with- 
out  being  almost  convulsed  with  laughter 
Each  candidate  rides  his  neighbour's  don- 
key,  and  he  who  arrives  first  a*  the  ap- 


1403 


THE  EVERY- DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  15. 


1404 


pointed  place  claims  the  prize,  which  is 
generally  a  smock-frock,  a  waistcoat,  a 
hat,  &c.  &c. 

9th.  Duck  Hunting.  This  sport  ge- 
nerally concludes  the  whole  :  it  is  a  very 
laughable,  but  certainly  a  very  cruel 
amusement.  They  tie  a  poor  unfortunate 
owl  in  an  upright  position,  to  the  back  of 
a  still  more  unfortunate  duck,  and  then 
turn  them  loose.  The  owl  presuming 
that  his  inconvenient  captivity  is  the 
work  of  the  duck,  very  unceremoniously 
commences  an  attack  on  the  head  of  the 
latter,  who  natuially  takes  to  its  own 
means  of  defence,  the  water:  the  duck 
dives  with  the  owl  on  his  back  ;  as  soon 
as  he  rises,  the  astonished  owl  opens  wide 
his  eyes,  turns  about  his  head  in  a  very 
solemn  manner,  and  suddenly  recom- 
mences his  attack  on  the  oppressed  duck, 
who  dives  as  before.  The  poor  animals 
generally  destroy  each  other,  unless  some 
humane  person  rescues  them. 

Like  all  other  Wiltshire  amusements, 
the  Hungerford  revel  always  closes  with 
good  humour  and  conviviality;  the  ale 
flowing  plentifully,  and  the  song  echoing 
loud  and  gaily  from  the  rustic  revellers. 
Although  tjie  revel  is  meant  to  last  only 
one  day,  the  very  numerous  attendants 
keep  up  the  minor  sports  sometimes  to 
the  fourth  day,  when  all  depart,  and  Hun- 
gerford is  once  more  a  scene  of  tran- 
quility. 

The  revel  takes  place  about  this  time 
of  the  year,  but  I  really  cannot  call  to  my 
recollection  the  precise  day.  Hoping,  how- 
ever, that  this  is  of  no  material  conse- 
quence, I  beg  to  remain, 

Dear  Sir,  Sec. 

C.  T 


EARL  OF  WARWICK,  THE  KING  MAKER. 

This  nobleman,  who  at  one  time  is  said 
to  have  entertained  thirty  thousand  people 
at  the  boards  of  his  different  manors  and 
estates  in  England,  and  who,  when  he 
travelled  or  lodged  in  any  town,  was 
accompanied  by  four  or  five  hundred  re- 
tainers, wrote  on  All  Souls'  day  the  fol- 
lowing remarkable  letter  for  the  loan  of 
a  small  sum.  It  is  divested  of  its  ancient 
spelling. 

*'  To  our  right  trusty  and  well-beloved 

Friend,  Sir  THOMAS  TODDENHAM. 
"  Right  trusty  and  well  beloved  friend, 
we  greet  you  well,  heartily  desiring  to 


hear  of  yovir  welfare ;  and  if  it  please 
you  to  hear  of  our  welfare,  we  were  in 
good  health  at  the  making  of  this  letter, 
entreating  you  heartily,  that  ye  will  con- 
sider our  message,  which  our  chaplain 
Master  Robert  Hopton  shall  inform  you 
of;  for  we  have  great  business  daily  and 
have  had  here  before  this  time,  wherefore 
we  entreat  you  to  consider  the  purchase, 
that  we  have  made  with  one  John  Swyff- 
ham  (Southcote)  an  esquire  of  Lincoln- 
shire, of  88/.  by  the  year,  whereupon  we 
must  pay  the  last  payment,  the  Monday 
next  after  St.  Martin's  day,  which  sum  is 
4581.  Wherefore  we  entreat  you  with  all 
our  heart,  that  ye  will  lend  us  ten,  or 
twenty  pounds,  or  what  the  said  Master 
Robert  wants  of  his  payment,  as  we  may 
do  for  you  in  time  for  to  come,  and  we 
will  send  it  you  again  afore  new  year's 
day,  as  we  are  a  true  knight.  For  there 
is  none  in  your  country,  that  we  might 
write  to  for  trust,  so  well  as  unto  you, 
for  as  we  be  informed,  ye  be  our  well 
wilier,  and  so  we  entreat  you,  that  ye 
consider  our  intent  of  this  money,  as  ye 
will  that  we  do  for  you  in  time  to  come.  . . 
Written  at  London,  on  All  Soul's  Day, 
within  our  lodging  in  the  Grey  Friars, 
within  Newgate. 

"  Ric.  ERLE  WARWYKE." 

This  letter  is  not  dated,  as  to  the  year, 
but  is  known  from  circumstances  to  have 
been  written  before  1455.  Sir  Thomas 
Toddingham  was  a  wealthy  knight  of 
Norfolk,  who  had  an  unfortunate  marriage 
with  one  of  the  Wodehouses.  The  epistle 
shows  the  importance  of  ten,  or  twenty 
pounds,  when  rents  were  chiefly  received 
in  kind,  and  the  difference  between  one 
degree  of  wealth  and  another,  was  ex- 
emplified by  the  number  of  a  baron's 
retainers.  "  Now,"  says  Burke, "  we  have 
a  ton  of  ancient  pomp  in  a  vial  of  modern 
luxury."* 


"  DEATH  OF  THE  LOTTERY." 

Introductory  to  particulars  respecting 
Lotteries,  two  engravings  are  inserted,, 
representing  exhibitions  that  appeared  in 
the  streets  of  the  metropolis,  with  the 
intent  to  excite  adventure  in  "  the  last 
state  lottery  that  will  ever  be  drawn  in 
England." 


•  Morr.ir.g  Herald,  Sept.  8,  1817; 


1405 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  15 


1406 


last  £>tag*  of  tfte  last 

A  BALLAD,  1H26, 
A  lazy  sot  grew  sober 
By  looking  at  his  troubles. 

For  he  found  out  how 

He  work'd  his  woe, 
By  playing  with  Lott'ry  bubbles. 

And  just  before  October, 

The  grand  contractors,  zealous 

To  share  their  last  ills, 

With  puffs  and  bills, 
Drove  all  the.  quack-doctors  jealoua. 


£otterp< 


1407 


THE  EVERY  -DAY  BOOK  —NOVEMBER  15. 


Their  bill-anA-cue-  carts  slowly 
Paced  Holborn  and  Long  Acre, 

Like  a  funeral 

Not  mourn'd  at  all, 
The  bury'ng  an  undertaker. 

Clerks  smiled,  and  whisper'd  lowly  : 
'*  This  is  the  time  or  never 

There  must  be  a  rise  — 

Buy,  and  be  wise, 
Or  your  chance  is  gone  for  ever." 

Yet,  of  the  shares  and  tickets, 
Spite  of  all  arts  to  sell  'em, 

There  were  more  unsold 

Than  dare  be  told; 
Although,  if  I  knew,  I'd  tell'em. 

And  so,  worn  out  with  rickets, 
The  last  "  Last  Lott'ry"  expired; 

And  then  there  were  cries  — 

'*  We've  gained  a  prize 
By  the  lost  we've  so  long  desired  : 

"  The  lott'ry  drew  the  humble 
Often  aside  from  his  labour, 

To  build  in  the  air, 

And,  dwelling  there, 
He  beggar'd  himself  and  neighbour. 

"  If  the  scheme-makers  tumble 
Down  to  their  proper  station, 

They  must  starve,  or  work, 

Turn  thief,  or  Turk, 
Or  hang,  for  the  good  o'  th*  nation.'* 


1409 


THE  EVFRY-DAY  BQOK.—LOTTERIfcS. 


LAST  LOTTERY 


What's  the  odds  ? — while  I  am  floundering  here  the 
gold  fish  will  be  gone ;  and  as  I  always  was  a  dab  at 
hooking  the  right  Numbers,  I  must  cast  for  a  Share  ot 
the  SIX  ^30,000  on  the  18th  JULY,  for  it  is  but 
"  giving  a  Sprat  to  catch  a  Herring"  as  a  body  may  say, 
and  it  is  the  last  chance  we  shall  have  in  England. 


The  above  engraving  is    copied  from  this  may  be  looked  on  with  interest,  as  a 

one  of  the  same  size  to  a  lottery  bill   of  specimen  of  the  means  to  which  the  lc?- 

1826:  its  inscription  is  verbatim  the  same  tery  schemers  were  reduced,  in  order  to 

as  that  below  the  original.     In  after  days,  attract  attention  to  "  the  last." 


COLLECTIONS   RESPECTJNG   LOTTERIES 


1569. — THE  FIRST  LOTTERY. 

Dr.  Rawlinson,  a  distinguished  anti- 
quary, produced  to  the  Antiquarian  so- 
ciety, in  1 748,  "  A  Proposal  for  a  very 
rich  Lottery,  general  without-  any  Blankes, 
contayning  a  great  N°  of  good  prices,  as 
well  of  redy  money  as  of  Plate  and  certain 
sorts  of  Merchandizes,  having  been  valued 
and  prised  by  the  Commandment  of  the 

VOL.  II. —97. 


Queenes  most  excellent  Majesties  order, 
to  the  entent  that  such  Commodities  as 
may  chance  to  arise  thereof,  after  the 
charges  borne,  may  bp  converted  towards 
the  reparations  of  the  Havens  and  Strength 
of  the  realme,  and  towards  such  other 
public  good  workes.  The  N°  of  I0tts 
shall  be  foure  hundred  thousand,  and  no 
more ;  and  every  lott  shall  be  the  summe 
of  tenne  shillings  sterling  only,  and  DO 


1411 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1412 


more.  To  be  filled  by  the  feast  of  St. 
Bartholomew.  The  shew  of  Prises  ar  to 
be  seen  in  Cheapside,  at  the  sign  of  the 
Queenes  armes,  the  house  of  Mr.  Dericke, 
Goldsmith,  Servant  to  the  Queen.  Some 
»ther  Orders  about  it  in  1567-8.  Printed 
3>y  Hen.  Bynneman." 

This  is  the  earliest  lottery  of  which  we 
aave  any  account.  According  to  Stow, 
jt  was  begun  to  be  drawn  at  the  west 
aoor  of  St.  Paul's  cathedral,  on  the  1 1th 
of  January,  1569,  (llth  of  Elizabeth,)  and 
continued  incessantly  drawing,  day  and 
night,  till  the  6th  of  May  following.*  It 
was  at  first  intended  to  have  been  drawn 
"  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Dericke,"  who  was 
the  queen's  jeweller.f  "  Whether,"  says 
Maitland,  "  this  lottery  was  on  account 
of  the  public,  or  the  selfish  views  of  pri- 
vate persons,  my  author  J  does  not  men- 
tion ;  but  'tis  evident,  by  the  time  it  took 
up  in  drawing,  it  must  have  been  of  great 
concern.  This  I  have  remarked  as  being 
the  first  of  the  kind  I  read  in  England." 
Maitland  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
acquainted  with  Dr.  Rawlinson's  com- 
munication of  the  printed  "  Proposal" 
for  it  to  the  society  of  Antiquaries,  which, 
as  it  states  that  the  "  commodities,"  or 
profits,  arising  therefrom  were  to  be  ap- 
propriated to  the  "  reparations  of  the 
havens  and  strength  of  the  realme,"  obvi- 
ates all  doubt  as  to  its  being  "  on  account 
of  the  public." 

In  1586,  28th  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth, . 
"  A  Lotterie,  for  marvellous  rich  and 
beautifull  armor,  was  begunne  to  be 
drawn  at  London,  in  S.  Paules  church- 
yard, at  the  great  west  gate,  (an  house  of 
timber  and  boord  being  there  erected  for 
that  purpose,)  on  St.  Peter's  day  in  the 
morning,  which  lotterie  continued  in 
drawing  day  and  night  for  the  space  of 
two  or  three  daies."§  Of  this  lottery  it 
is  said,  in  lord  Burghley's  Diary,  at  the 
end  of  Murden's  State  papers,  "  June, 
1586,  the  lottery  of  armour  under  the 
charge  of  John  Calthorp  determined."  || 
This  is  the  second  English  lottery  of 
which  mention  has  been  made. 

In  1619,  16th  of  James  I.,  it  appears, 
from  the  following  entry  in  the  register 


*  Maitland's  London. 

t  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1778. 

i  Stow,  in  his  Annals. 

t  Ibid. 

U  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1798. 


of  charitable  gifts  to  the  corporation  or 
Reading,  that  a  lottery  was  held  in  that 
town.  "  Whereas  at  a  Lottery  held  within 
the  Borough  of  Reading,  in  the  Year  o* 
our  Ld.  God  1619,  Gabriel  Barber  Gent. 
Agent  in  the  sd.  Lottery  for  the  Councell 
&  Company  of  Virginia  of  his  own  good 
Will  &  Charity  towarde  poor  Tradesmen 
ffreemen  &  Inhabitants  of  the  sd.  Borough 
of  Reading,  &  for  the  better  enabling 
such  poor  Tradesmen  to  support  &  bear 
their  Charges  in  their  several  Places  & 
Callings  in  the  sd.  Corporation  from  time 
to  time  for  ever  freely  gave  &  delivered 
to  the  Mayor  &  Burgesses  of  this  Corpo- 
ration the  Sum  of  forty  Pounds  of  lawfull 
Money  of  England  Upon  Special  Trust  & 
Confidence,  that  the  sd.  Mayor  &  Bur- 
gesses &  their  Successors  shall  from  time 
to  time  for  ever  dispose  &  lend  these  401. 
to  &  amongst  Six  poor  Tradesmen  after 
the  rate  of  061.  13s.  4d.  to  each  Man  for 
the  Term  of  five  Years  gratis  And  after 
those  five  Years  ended  to  dispose  &  lend 
the  sd.  401.  by  Such  Soms  to  Six  other 
poor  Tradesmen  for  other  five  Years  &  so 
from  five  years  to  five  years  Successively 
upon  good  Security  for  ever  Neverthelesse 
provided  &  upon  Condition  that  none  of 
those  to  whom  the  sd.  Summs  of  mony 
shall  be  lent  during  that  Term  of  five 
years  shall  keep  either  Inn  or  Tavern  or 
dwell  fotth  of  the  sd.  Borough,  but  there 
during  that  time  and  terme,  shall  as  other 
Inhabitants  of  the  sd.  Borough  reside  & 
dwell. 

"  Memorand.  that  the  sd.  Sum  of  401. 
came  not  into  the  hands  &  charge  of  the 
Mayor  &  Burgesses  until  April  1626." 

This  extract  was  communicated  to  the 
"  Gentleman's  Magazine'*  in  1 778,  by  a 
correspondent,  who,  referring  to  this  gift 
of  "  Gabriel  Barber,  gent.,  agent  in  the 
said  lottery,"  says,  "  If  it  be  asked  what 
is  become  of  it  now  ?  gone,  it  is  supposed, 
where  the  chickens  went  before  during  the 
pious  protectorship  of  Cromwell." 

In  1630,  6th  Charles  I.,  there  was  a 
project  "  for  the  conveying  of  certain 
springs  of  water  into  London  and  West- 
minster, from  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of 
Hodsdon,  in  Hertfordshire,  by  the  under- 
takers, Sir  Edward  Stradling  and  John 
Lyde."  The  author  of  this  project  was 
one  Michael  Parker.  "  For  defraying  the 
expences  whereof,  king  Charles  grants 
them  a  special  license  to  erect  and  pub- 
lish a  lottery  or  lotteries  ;  according  "  says 


1413 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1414 


the  record,  "  to  the  course  of  other  lot- 
teries heretofore  used  or  practised." 
This  is  the  first  mention  of  lotteries 
either  in  the  Fcedera  or  Statute-book. 
"  And,  for  the  sole  privilege  of  bringing 
the  said  waters  in  aqueducts  to  London, 
they  were  to  pay  four  thousand  pounds 
per  annum  into  the  king's  exchequer: 
and,  the  better  to  enable  them  to  make 
the  said  large  annual  payment,  the  king 
grants  them  leave  to  bring  their  aqueducts 


through  any  of  his  parks,  chases,  lands, 
&c.,  and  to  dig  up  the  same  gratis/'* 

It  1653,  during  the  commonwealth, 
there  was  a  lottery  at  Grocers'  Hall,  which 
appears  to  have  escaped  the  observation 
of  the  inquirers  concerning  this  species 
of  adventure.  It  is  noticed  in  an  old 
weekly  newspaper,  called  "  Perfect  Ac- 
count of  the  Daily  Intelligence  16-23 
November  1653,"  by  the  following 


At  the  Committee  for  Claims  for  Lands  in  Ireland, 
Ordered,  That  a  Lottery  be  at  Grocers-Hall  London, 
on  Thursday  15  Decem.  1653,  both  for  Provinces  and 
Counties,  to  begin  at  8  of  the  clock  in  the  forenoon  of 
the  same  day ;  and  all  persons  concerned  therein  are  to 
take  notice  thereof. 

W.  Tibbs. 


Under  Charles  II.,  the  crown,  with  a 
view  to  reward  its  adherents  who  re- 
sided within  the  bills  of  mortality,  and 
had  served  it  with  fidelity  during  the  in- 
terregnum, granted  "Plate  Lotteries;"  by 
which  is  to  be  understood  a  gift  of  plate 
from  the  crown,  to  be  disposed  of  in  that 
manner  as  prizes,  with  permission  to  sell 
tickets.  According  to  the  Gazette,  in 
April  1669,  Charles  II.,  the  duke  of  York, 
(afterwards  James  II.,)  and  many  of  the 
nobility  were  present  "  at  the  grand 
plate  lottery,  which,  by  his  majesty's 
command,  was  then  opened  at  the  sign  of 
the  Mermaid  over  against  the  mews." 
This  was  the  origin  of  endless  schemes, 
under  the  titles  of  "  Royal  Oak," 
"  Twelve-penny  Lotteries,"  &c.,  which 
will  be  adverted  to  presently.  They  may 
be  further  understood  by  an  intimation, 
published  soon  after  the  drawing  sanc- 
tioned by  the  royal  visitors,  in  these 
words,  "  This  is  to  give  notice,  that  any 
persons  who  are  desirous  to  farm  any  of 
the  counties  within  the  kingdom  of  Eng- 
land or  dominion  of  Wales,  in  order  to 
the  setting  up  of  a  plate  lottery,  or  any 
other  lottery  whatsoever,  may  repair  to 
the  lottery  office,  at  Mr.  Philips's  house, 
in  Mermaid-court  over  against  the  mews  ; 
where  they  may  contract  with  the  trustees 
commissioned  by  his  majesty's  letters 
patent  for  the  management  of  the  said 
patent,  on  the  behalf  of  the  truly  loyal, 


indigent  officers."-f-  In  those  times,  the 
crown  exceeded  its  prerogative  by  issuing 
these  patents,  and  the  law  was  not  put  in 
motion  to  question  them. 

Book  Lotteries. 

During  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  lotteries 
were  drawn  at  the  theatres.  At  Vere- 
street  theatre,  which  stood  in  Bear-yard, 
to  which  there  is  an  entrance  through  a 
passage  at  the  south-west  corner  of  Lin- 
col  ns'-inn-fields,  another  from  Vere-street, 
and  a  third  from  Clare-market,  Killi- 
grew's  company  performed  during  the 
seasons  of  1661  and  1662,  and  part  of 
1663,  when  they  removed  to  the  new 
built  theatre  in  Drury-lane ;  and  the  Vere- 
street  theatre  was  probably  unoccupied 
until  Mr.  Ogilby,  the  author  of  the  now 
useless,  though  then  useful  "  Itinerarium 
Angliae,  or  Book  of  Roads,"  adopted  it, 
as  standing  in  a  popular  neighbourhood, 
for  the  temporary  purpose  of  drawing  a 
lottery  of  books,  which  took  place  in 
1668. 

Books  were  often  the  species  of  pro- 
perty held  out  as  a  lure  to  adventurers,  by 
way  of  lottery,  for  the  benefit  of  the  suf- 
fering loyalists.  Among  these,  Blome's 
Recreations,  and  Gwillim's  Heraldry,  fi  «t 
edition,  may  be  mentioned.  In  the  Ga- 


*  Anderson's  History  of  Commerce. 
t  Malcolm's  Mannefg. 


14i5 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


14U 


zette  of  May  18,  1668,  is  the  following 
advertisement :  "  Mr.  Ogilby's  lottery  of 
books  opens  on  Monday  the  25th  instant, 
at  the  old  Theatre  between  Lincoln's- 
inn-fields  and  Vere-street ;  where  all 
persons  concerned  may  repair  on  Monday, 
May  18,  and  see  the  volumes,  and  put  in 
their  money."  On  May  25th  is  announced, 
"  Mr.  Ogilby's  lottery  of  books  (adven- 
turers coming  in  so  fast  that  they  cannot 
in  so  short  time  be  methodically  registered) 
opens  not  till  Tuesday  the  2d  of  June; 
then  not  failing  to  draw  ;  at  the  old  The- 
atre between  Lincoln's-inn-nelds  and 
Vere-street." 

A  correspondent,  under  the  signature 
of  "  A  Bibliographer,"  communicates  to 
the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  from 
whence  the  notice  respecting  these  book 
lotteries  is  extracted,  one  of  Ogilby's  Pro- 
posals as  a  curiosity,  in  which  light  it  is 
certainly  to  be  regarded,  and  therefore  it 
has  a  place  here,  as  follows  : — 

A  SECOND  PROPOSAL,  by  the  author,  for 
the  better  and  more  speedy  vendition  of 
several  volumes,  (his  own  works,)  by 
the  way  of  a  standing  Lottery,  licensed 
by  his  royal  highness  the  duke  of  York, 
and  assistants  of  the  corporation  of  the 
royal  fishing. 

WHEREAS  John  Ogilby,  esq.,  erected 
a  standing  lottery  of  books,  and  complete- 
ly furnished  the  same  with  very  large, 
fair,  and  special  volumes,  all  of  his  own 
designment  and  composure,  at  vast  ex- 
pense, labour,  and  study  of  twenty  years ; 
the  like  impressions  never  before  exhibited 
in  the  English  tongue.  Which,  accord- 
ing to  the  appointed  time,  on  the  10th  of 
May,  1 665,  opened ;  and  to  the  general 
satisfaction  of  the  adventurers,  with  no 
less  hopes  of  a  clear  despatch  and  fair 
advantage  to  the  author,  was  several  days 
in  drawing:  when  its  proceedings  were 
stopt  by  the  then  growing  sickness,  and 
lay  discontinued  under  the  arrest  of  that 
common  calamity,  till  the  next  year's  more 
violent  and  sudden  visitation,  the  late 
dreadful  and  surprising  conflagration, 
swallowed  the  remainder,  being  two  parts 
of  three,  to  the  value  of  three  thousand 
pounds  and  upward,  in  that  unimaginable 
deluge.  Therefore,  to  repair  in  some 
manner  his  so  much  commiserated 
losses,  by  the  advice  of  many  his 
patrons,  friends,  and  especially  by  the  in- 
citations  of  his  former  adventurers,  he 
resolves,  and  hath  already  prepared,  not 
only  to  reprint  all  his  own  former  editions, 


but  others  that  are  new,  of  equal  value, 
and  like  estimation  by  their  embellish- 
ments, and  never  yet  published ;  with 
Some  remains  of  the  first  impressions,  re- 
lics preserved  in  several  hands  from  the 
fire ;  to  set  up  a  second  standing  lottery, 
where  such  the  discrimination  of  fortune 
shall  be,  that  few  or  none  shaU  return 
with  a  dissatisfying  chance.  The  whole 
draught  being  of  greater  advantage  by 
much  (to  the  adventurers)  than  the  form- 
er. And  accordingly,  after  publication, 
the  author  opened  his  office,  where  they 
might  put  in  their  first  encouragements, 
(viz.}  twenty  shillings,  and  twenty  more 
at  the  reception  of  their  fortune,  and  also 
see  those  several  magnificent  volumes, 
which  their  varied  fortune  (none  being 
bad)  should  present  them. 

*  But,  the  author  now  finding  more 
difficulty  than  he  expected,  since  many  of 
his  promisers  (who  also  received  great 
store  of  tickets  to  dispose  of,  towards  pro- 
motion of  his  business)  though  seeming 
well  resolved  and  very  willing,yet  straining 
courtesy  not  to  go  foremost  in  paying  their 
monies,  linger  out,  driving  it  off  till  near 
the  time  appointed  for  drawing;  which 
dilatoriness :  (since  despatch  is  the  soul 
and  life  to  his  proposal,  his  only  advan- 
tage a  speedy  vendition  :)  and  also  observ- 
ing how  that  a  money  dearth,  a  silver 
famine,  slackens  and  cools  the  courag-e  of 
adventurers ;  through  which  hazy  humours 
magnifying  medium  shillings  loome  like 
crowns,  and  each  forty  shillings  a  ten 
pound  heap.  Therefore,  according  to  the 
present  humour  now  reigning,  he  intends 
to  adequate  his  design  ;  and  this  seeming 
too  large-roomed,  standing  lottery,  new 
modelled  into  many  less  and  more  likely 
to  be  taken  tenements,  which  shall  not 
open  only  a  larger  prospect  of  pleasing 
hopes,  but  more  real  advantage  to  the  ad- 
venturer. Which  are  now  to  be  disposed 
of  thus :  the  whole  mass  of  books  or 
volumes,  being  the  same  without  addition 
or  diminution,  amounting  according  to 
their  known  value  (being  the  prices  they 
have  been  usually  disposed  at)  to  thirteen 

*  "  Whereas  some  give  out  that  they  could  never 
receive  their  books  after  they  were  drawn  in  the  first 
lottery,  the  author  declares,  and  it  will  be  attested, 
that  of  seven  hundred  prizes  that  were  drawn,  there 
were  not  six  remaining-  Prizes  that  suffered  with  his 
in  the  fire  ;  for  the  drawing  being  on  the  10th  of  May, 
1 665,  the  office  did  then  continue  open  for  the  delivery 
of  the  same  (though  the  contagion  much  raged)  until 
the  latter  end  of  July  following  ;  and  opened  again, 
to  attend  the  delivery,  in  April,  1666,  whither  per- 
sons repaired  daily  for  their  prizes,  and  continued 
open  until  the  fire." 


i4ir 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1418 


thousand  seven  hundred  pounds  ;  so  that 
the  adventurers  will  have  the  above  said 
volumes  (if  all  are  drawn)  for  less  than  two 
thirds  of  what  they  would  yield  in  process 
of  time,  book  by  book.  He  now  resolves 
to  attemper,  or  mingle  each  prize  with 
four  allaying  blanks  ;  so  bringing  down, 
by  this  means,  the  market  from  double 
pounds  to  single  crowns. 

THE  PROPOSITIONS. — First,  whosoever 
will  be  pleased  to  put  in  five  shillings 
shall  draw  a  lot,  his  fortune  to  receive  the 
greatest  or  meanest  prize,or  throw  away  his 
intended  spending  money  on  a  blank. 
Secondly,  whoever  will  adventure  deeper, 
putting  in  twenty-five  shillings,  shall  re- 
ceive, if  such  his  bad  fortune  be  that  he 
draws  all  blanks,  a  prize  presented  to  him 
by  the  author  of  more  value  than  his 
money  (if  offered  to  be  sold)  though  prof- 
fered ware,  &c.  Thirdly,  who  thinks  fit 
to  put  in  for  eight  lots  forty  shilling's  shall 
receive  nine,  and  the  advantage  of  their 
free  choice  (if  all  blanks)  of  either  of  the 
works  complete,  viz.  Homer's  Iliads  and 
Odysses,  or  ^Esop  the  first  and  second 
volumes,  the  China  book,  or  Virgil.  Of 
which, 

The  first  and  greatest  Prize  contains 

1  Lot,  Number  1. 
An  imperial  Bible  with  Chorographical  and  an 

hundred  historical  sculps,  valued  at 25/. 

Virgil  translated,  with  sculps  and  annotations, 

val 5/. 

Homer's  Iliads,  adorned  with  sculps,  val.  . .  5/. 
Homer's  Odysses,  adorned  with  sculps,  val.  4/. 
./Esop's  Fables  paraphrased  and  sculped,  in 

folio,  val 3/. 

A  second  Collection  of  ^Esopick  Fables,  adorned 
with  sculps,  never    ******# 

*     [Imperfect.']     *     *     * 
His  Majestie's  Entertainment  passing  through 
the  city  of  London,  and  Coronation. 
These  are  one  of  each,  of  all  the  books  con- 
tained in  the  Lottery,  the  whole  value .  . .  51/. 
The  Second  Prize  contains 

1  Lot,  Num.  2. 
One  imperial  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.  25/. 

Homer  complete,  in  English,  val 9/. 

Virgil,  val 5/. 

^Esop  complete,  val -.    6/. 

The  Description  of  China,  val 4/. 

In  all  49  Pound. 
The  Third  Prize  contains 
1  Lot,  Num.  3. 

One  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps 10/. 

Homer's  Works  in  English,  val 9/. 

Virgil  translated,  with  sculps  and  annotations, 

val 5/. 

The  first  and  second  vol.  of  .<Esop,  val.  ...    67. 

The  Description  of  China,  val 4/. 

Entertainment,  val.  2/. 

In  all  36  Pound. 


I  Lot,  Num.  4, 

One  imperial  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.  25/. 

jEsop's  Fables  the  first  and  second  vol.  val.  6/. 

In  all  31  Pound. 

1  Lot,  Num.  5. 

One  imperial  Bible  with  all  the  sculps, val.  25/. 

Virgil  translated,  with  sculps,  val 5/. 

In  all  30  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.  6. 
One  imperial  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.  25/. 

And  a  Description  of  China,  val 4/. 

In  all  29  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.  7. 
One  imperial  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  and  a 

new  ^Esop,  val 28/. 

1  Lot,  Num.  8. 

One  imperial  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.  25 1. 
1  Lot,  Num.  9. 

A  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val 1 0/ 

A  Description  of  China,  val. -I/. 

And  a  Homer  complete,  val; 9/. 

In  all  23  Pound 
1  Lot,  Num.  10. 

A  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val 10/. 

A  Virgil  complete,  val 5/. 

^Esop's    Fables    the    first    and    second   vols. 

val 67. 

In  all  21  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.  11. 
One  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.. .  Wl. 

And  a  Homer's  Works  complete,  val 9/. 

In  all  19  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.  12. 
One  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.  ..Wl. 

And  both  the  ^Esops,  val 6/ 

In  all  16  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.  13. 
One  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.. .  10/. 

A  Virgil  complete  in  English,  val bl. 

In  all  15  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.  14. 
One  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.  . .  10/. 

A  Description  of  China,  val 4/. 

In  all  14  Pound. 
*     *     *     *  [Imperfect.']  *    *     *     * 

1  Lot,  Num.  16. 
One  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.  . .  10/. 

The  second  volume  of  ^Esop,  val 3/. 

In  all  13  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.  17. 
One  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps,  val.. .  10/. 

And  an  Entertainment,  val 2/. 

In  all  12  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.  18. 
One  royal  Bible  with  all  the  sculps.  «al.  . .  10/, 

1  Lot,  Num.  19. 
One  royal  Bible  with  Chorograp,'«»J  sculps, 

val 5/ 

One  Virgil  complete,  val 5L 

In  all  10  Pound. 
1  Lot,  Num.20. 
One  royal  Bible  with  Chorographicai  sculps, 

val.   " 5/. 

And  a  Homer's  Iliads,  vaj    5/. 

In  ail  10  Pound. 


1419 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK,— LOTTERIES. 


1  Lot,  Num.  21.  church,    Fleet-street.      The    adventurers 

One  royal  Bible  with  Chorographical  sculps,  may   also   repair,   for  their  better  conve- 

val 5/.  nience,  to  pay  in  their  monies,  to  Mr. 

And  a  Homer's  Odysses,  val 4/.  peter  Cleyton,  over    against   the   Dutch 

In  all  9  Pound.  cnUrch,  in  Austin-friars,  and  to  Mr,  Baker, 

1  Lot,  Num.  22.  near  Broad-street,  entering  the  South-door 

One  royal  Bible  with  Chorographical  sculps,  Qf  the  Exchange>  and  to  Mr  Roycroftj  in 

An™*  D^criptl^'oi  China,' ;alV. :.*.*: .' ::   d  Banholomew-close. 

In  all  9  Pound.         ^e  certain  day  of  drawing1,  the  author 

1  Lot  Num.  23.  promiseth  (though  but  half  full)  to  be  the 

One  royal  Bible  with  Chorographical  sculps,  twenty-third  of  May  next.     Therefore  all 

vaj 5/.  persons  that  are  willing  to  adventure,  are 

And  iEsop  complete,  val 6/.  desired  to  bring  or  send  in  their  monies 

In  all  11  Pound,  with  their  names,  or  what  other  inscrip- 

1  Lot,  Num.  24.  tion  or  motto  they  will,  by  which  to  know 

A   royal   Bible  with   Chorographical   sculps,  tneir  own,  by  the  ninth  of  May  next,  it 

val y-    being  Whitson-eve,  that  the  author  may 

And  ^sop  the  first  volume,  val   . ..... .   3/.     haye  time  to  put  up  the  ]Q{S  and  inscrip_ 

1  T  t  N       25                   n  tions  mto  their  respective  boxes. 

A  royal  Bible  with   Chorographical  sculps,  - 

val • y-  D.H.,  one  of  Mr.  Urban's  contributors, 

And  ^sop  the  second  volume,  val.           .    31  mentions  that  he   had    seen  an  undated 

1  Lot  Num  26  '  "  Address  to  the  Learned  :  or,  an  advan- 

/.  royal  Bible,    nid,  with    Chorographical  tapous    lottery     for    Books    in    quires; 

sculps  val  ..  6/.  wherein  each   adventurer  of  a  guinea  it 

'   i  Lot,  Num'.  27.  sure  °'  a  Prize  °f  two  pound  value ;  and 

A  royal  Bible  with  Chorographical  sculps,  it  is  but  four  to  one  that  he  has  a  prize  of 

ruled,  val 61.  three,  six,  eight,  twelve,  or  fifty  pounds, 

1  Lot,  Num.  28.  as  appears  by  the  following  proposals  :" 

One  royal  Bible  with  Chorographical  sculps,  one  thousand  five  hundred  lots,  at  II.  1*. 

val 5/.  each,  to  be  drawn  with  the  lots  out  of  two 

10  Lot,  Num.  29.  glasses,  superintended  by  John  Lilly  and 

Each  a  Homer  complete,  val 9/.  EdwardDarrel,  esqrs.,  Mr.DeputyCollins, 

,    t.      j        10  Lot,  Num.30.  and  Mr.  William  Proctor,  stationer,  two 

Each  a  double  ^sop  complete  val 61.  ^   of  5Q/     ^   Qf  m;  twenty  o'f  8/>> 

Each  a  Homer's  IlTa^vah: .    .' 5/.  **^  of  f  >  ^T^n  ^  2™ 

520  Lot  Num  32  thousand  two  hundred  of  3/.     The  under- 
Each  a  Homer's  Odysses,  val.  .  i 4/.  takers  were  :  Thomas  Leigh,  and  D.  Mid- 
570  Lot,  Num.  33.  winter,  at  the   Rose   and  Crown,  in  St. 

Each  a  Virgil  complete,  val 5/.  Paul's    Church-yard  ;      Mr.    Aylmer,    at 

570  Lot,  Num.  34.  the   Three   Pigeons,    and    Mr.    Richard 

Each  a  China  Book,  val 4/.  Parker,  under  the   Piazza  of  the  Royal 

570  Lot,  Num.  35.  Exchange ;    Mr.     Nicholson,     in    Little 

Each  the  first  volume  of  ,Esop,  val 31.  Britain  ;  Mr.  Took,  at  the  Middle  Temple 

570  Lot,  Num.  36.  gate    Fleet-street;    Mr.    Brown,   at   the 

Each  the  second  volume  of  ^sop,  val.  ..  31.  Black    §wan>  without   Temple.bar;  Mr. 

The  whole  number   of  the  lots  three  Sare' at  pray's-inn  gate;    Mr.  Lownds, 

thousand,  three  hundred,  and  sixty-eight,  at   ^e  l8"^   Sate  >    M^  Q"JJ^   near 

The  number  of  the  blanks  as  above  or-  Scotland-yard  gate ;  and  Mr  Gillyflower, 

dered ;  so  that  the  total  received  is  but  m  Westminster-hall,  booksellers. 

lour    thousand,    one    hundred,  and    ten  . 

pounds.  Letters  patent  in  behalf  of  the  loyalists 

The  office  where  their  monies  are  to  be  were  from  time  to  time  renewed,   and, 

paid  in,  and  they  receive  their  tickets,  and  from  the  Gazette  of  October  11,  1675,  it 

where  the  several  volumes  or  prizes  may  appears   by  those   dated   June    19,  and 

be  daily  seen,  (by  which  visual  speculation  December  17,  1674,   there  were  granted 

understanding  their  real  worth  better  then  for  thirteen  years  to  come,  "  all  lotteries 

by  the  ear  or  a  printed  paper,)  is  kept  at  whatsoever,  invented   or  to  be  invented, 

the  BlacV  Boy,  over  against  St.  Dunstan's  to  several  truly  loyal  and  indigent  officers, 


421 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1422 


in  consideration  of  their  many  faithful 
services  and  sufferings,  with  prohibition 
to  all  others  to  use  or  set  up  the  said  lot- 
teries/' unless  deputations  were  obtained 
from  those  officers. 

A  PENNY  LOTTERY. 

The  most  po"alar  of  all  the  schemes 
was   that   dra*  n   at    the   Dorset-garden 
theatre,    neai     Salisbury-square,     Fleet- 
street,  with  the  capital  prize  of  a  thousand 
pound  for  a  penny.     The  drawing  began 
October  19,  1698  ;  and,  in  the  Protestant 
Mercury  of  the  following  day,  "  its  fair- 
ness (was  said)  to  give  universal  content 
to  all  that  were  concerned."     In  the  next 
paper   is  found  an   inconsistent  and  fri- 
volous story,   as  to  the  possessor  of  the 
prize  :  "  Some   time   since,  a  boy  near 
Branford,  going  to   school  one  morning, 
met  an  old   woman,  who   asked  *is  cha- 
rity ;  the  boy  replied,  he  had  nothing  to 
give  her  but  a  piece  of  bread  and  butter, 
which  she   accepted.     Some   time  after, 
she  met  the  boy  again,  and  told  him  she 
had  good  luck  after  his  bread  and  butter, 
and  therefore  would  give  him  a  penny, 
which,  after  some  years'  keeping,  would 
produce  many   pounds:    he   accordingly 
kept  it  a  great  while ;  and   at  last,  with 
some  friend's  advice,  put  it  into  the  penny 
lottery,   and    we    are   informed   that  on 
Tuesday  last  the  said   lot  came   up  with 
1000/.  prize."    However  absurd  this  rela- 
tion appears,  it  must  be  recollected  those 
to  whom   it  was    principally   addressed 
had  given  proof  of  having  sufficient  cre- 
dulity for  such  a  tale,  in  believing  that 
two   hundred  and  forty  thousand  shares 
could  be  disposed  of  and  appropriated  to 
a  single   number,   independent   of  other 
prizes.     The  scheme  of  the  *'  Penny  Lot- 
tery"  was   assailed   in    a  tract,  intituled 
"  The  Wheel  of  Fortune,  or  Nothing  for 
a  Penny;  being  remarks  on  the  drawing 
of  the  Penny  Lottery  at  the  Theatre  Royal, 
in   Dorset-Garden,"    1698,  4to.      After- 
wards  at   this  theatre  there  was  a  short 
exhibition     of    prize-fighters ;     and    the 
building  was  totally  deserted  in  1703. 

In  1 698-9,  schemes  were  started,  called 
"  The  Lucky  Adventure ;  or,  Fortunate 
Chance,  being  2000/.  for  a  groat,  or 
3000 /.  for  a  shilling :"  and  "  Fortunatus, 
or  another  adventure  of  1000J.  for  a 
penny  :"  but  purchasers  were  more  wary, 
and  the  money  returned  in  both  cases. — 
The  patentees  also  advertised  against  the 
«  Marble-board,  alias  the  Woollich-board 
lotteries;  the  Figure-board,  alias  the 


Whimsey-board,  and  the  Wyreboard  .ot- 
teries."* 

These  patents  of  the  Restoration  seem 
to  have  occasioned  considerable  strife  be- 
tween the  parties  who  worked  under 
them.  The  following  verses  from  "  The 
Post  Boy,  January  3,  1698,"  afford  some 
insight  to  their  estimation  among  sensible 
people  :— 

A  DIALOGUE  betwixt  the  NEW  LOTTE- 
RIES and  the  ROYAL  OAK. 

New  Lott.    To  you,    the    mother    of   om 

schools, 

Where  knaves  by  licence  manage  fools, 
Finding  fit  juncture  and  occasion, 
To  pick  the  pockets  of  the  nation  ; 
We  come  to  know  how  we  must  treat 'em, 
And  to  their  heart's  content  may  cheat  'em. 

Oak.  It  cheers  my  aged  heart  to  see 
So  numerous  a  progeny ; 
I  find  by  you,  that  'tis  heaven's  will 
That  knavery  should  flourish  still. 
You  have  docility  and  wit, 
And  fools  were  never  wanting  yet. 

Observe  the  crafty  auctioneer, 
His  art  to  sell  waste  paper  dear ; 
When  he  for  salmon  baits  his  hooks, 
That  cormorant  of  offal  books, 
Who  bites,  as  sure  as  maggots  breed, 
Or  carrion  crows  on  horse-flesh  feed  ; 
Fair  specious  titles  him  deceive, 

To  sweep  what  SI and  T n  leave. 

If  greedy  gulls  you  wou'd  ensnare, 
Make  'em  proposals  wondrous  fair  ; 
Tell  him  strange  golden  show'rs  shall  fall, 
And  promise  mountains  to  'em  all. 

New    Lott.    That     craft     we've     already 

taught, 

And  by  that  trick  have  millions  caught ; 
Books,  bawbles,  toys,  all  sorts  of  stuff, 
Have  gone  off  this  way  well  enough. 
Nay,  music,  too,  invades  our  art, 
And  to  some  tune  wou'd  play  her  part. 
I'll  show  you  now  what  we  are  doing, 

For  we  have  divers  wheels  agoing. 

We  now  have  found  out  richer  lands 
Than  Asia's  hills,  or  Afric's  sands, 

And  to  vast  treasures  must  give  birth, 

Deep  hid  in  bowels  of  the  earth ; 

In  fertile  Wales,  and  God  knows  where, 

Rich  mines  of  gold  and  silver  are, 

From  whence  we  drain  prodigious  sloie 

Of  silver  coin'd,  tho'  none  in  ore, 

Which  down  our  throats  rich  coxcombs  pour, 

In  hopes  to  make  us  vomit  more. 

Oak.  This  project  surely  must  be  good, 

Because  not  eas'ly  understood  : 

Besides,  it  gives  a  mighty  scope 

To  the  fool's  argument— vain  hope. 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


1423 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1424 


No  eagle'a  eye  the  cheat  can  see, 
Thro'  hope  thus  back'd  by  mystery. 

New  Lott.   We  have,  besides,  a  thousand 

more, 

For  great  and  small,  for  rich  and  poor, 
From  him  that  can  his  thousands  spare, 
Down  to  the  penny  customer. 

Oak.  The  silry  rnob  in  crowds  will  run. 
To  be  at  easy  rates  undone. 
f  gimcrack-show  draws  in  the  rout, 
Thousands  their  all  by  pence  lay  out. 

New  Lott.  We,  by  experience,  find  it  true, 
But  we  have  methods  wholly  new, 
Strange  late-invented  ways  to  thrive, 
To  make  men  pay  for  what  they  give, 
To  get  the  rents  into  our  hands 
Of  their  hereditary  lands, 
And  out  of  what  does  thence  arise, 
To  make  'em  buy  annuities. 
We've  matheroatic  combination, 
To  cheat  folks  by  plain  demonstration, 
Which  shall  be  fairly  manag'd  too, 
The  undertaker  knows  not  how. 
Besides 

Oak.  Pray,  hold  a  little,  here's  enough, 
To  beggar  Europe  of  this  stuff. 
Go  on,  and  prosper,  and  be  great, 
I  am  to  you  a  puny  cheat 

The  "  Royal-Oak  Lottery ,"  as  the  rival 
if  not  the  parent  of  the^various  other  de- 
moralizing schemes,  obtained  the  largest 
share  of  public  odium.  The  evils  it  had 
created  are  popularly  set  forth  in  a  re- 
markable tract,  entitled  "  The  Arraign- 
ment, Trial,  and  Condemnation  of  Squire 
Lottery,  alias  Royal-Oak  Lottery,  London, 
1699,"  8vo.  The  charges  against  the  of- 
fender are  arrayed  under  the  forms  im- 
ported by  the  title-page.  The  following 
extracts  are  in  some  respects  curious,  as 
exemplify  ing  the  manners  of  the  times  : — 

Die   Lunce    vicesimo    die   Martii  169f. 
Anno  Regni,  &c. 

At  the  Time  and  Place  appointed,  came 
on  the  Trial  of  Squire  Lottery,  alias  Royal- 
Oak  Lottery,  for  abundance  of  intolerable 
Tricks,  Cheats,  and  high  Misdemeanours, 
upon  an  Indictment  lately  found  against 
him,  in  order  to  a  National  Delivery. 

About  ten  of  the  Clock,  the  day  and 
year  abovesaid,  the  Managers  came  into 
the  Court,  where,  in  the  presence  of  a 
vast  confluence  of  People  of  all  Ranks, 
the  Prisoner  was  ordered  to  the  Bar. 

Proclamation  being  made,  and  a  Jury 
of  good  Cits  which  were  to  try  the  Pri- 
soner being  sworn,  the  Indictment  against 
Squire  Lottery  alias  Royal-Oak  Lottery, 

was  read.  

*  Malcolm's  Manners. 


The  Jurors'  Names. 

Mr.  Positive,  a  Draper  in  Covent  Garden, 

Mr.  Squander,  an  Oilman  in  Fleet-street. 

Mr.  Pert,  a  Tobacconist,  ditto. 

Mr.  Captious,  a  Milliner  in  Paternoster- 
Row. 

Mr.  Feeble,  a  Coffeeman  near  the  Change. 

Mr.  Altrick,  a  Merchant  in  Gracechurch- 
street. 

Mr.  Haughty,  a  Vintner  by  Grays-Inn, 
Holborn. 

Mr.  Jealous,  a  Cutler  at  Charing-Cross. 

Mr.  Peevish,  a  Bookseller  in  St.  Pouts 
Church-yard. 

Mr.  Spilbook,  near  Fleet-bridge. 

Mr.  Noysie,  a  Silkman  upon  Ludgate-hill. 

Mr.  Finical,  a  Barber  in  Cheapside. 

Cl.  of  Ma.  Squire  Lottery,  alias  RoyaS- 
Oak  Lottery,  you  stand  Indicted  by  the 
Name  of  Squire  Lottery,  alias  Royal-Oak 
Lottery,  for  that  you  the  said  Squire 
Lottery,  not  having  the  Fear  of  God  in 
your  Heart ;  nor  weighing  the  Regard 
and  Duty  you  owe,  and  of  right  ought  to 
pay  to  the  Interest,  Safety,  and  Satisfac- 
tion of  your  Fellow-Subjects ;  have  from 
time  to  time,  and  at  several  times,  and  in 
several  places,  contrary  to  the  known 
Laws  of  this  Kingdom,  under  the  shadow 
and  coverture  of  a  Royal  Oak,  propagated, 
continued,  and  carried  on  a  most  unequal, 
intricate,  and  insinuating  Game,  to  the 
utter  ruin  and  destruction  of  many  thou- 
sand Families  :  And  that  you  the  said 
Squire  Lottery,  alias  Royal-Oak  Lottery, 
as  a  common  Enemy  to  all  young  People, 
and  an  inveterate  Hater  of  all  good  Con- 
versation and  Diversion,  have,  for  many 
years  last  past,  and  do  still  continue,  by 
certain  cunning  Tricks  and  Stratagems, 
insidiously,  falsely,  and  impiously,  to 
trepan,  deceive,  cheat,  decoy,  and  entice 
divers  Ladies,  Gentlemen,  Cituens,  Ap- 
prentices, and  others,  to  play  away  their 
Money  at  manifest  Odds  and  Disadvan- 
tage. And  that  you  the  said  Squire 
Lottery,  alias  Royal-Oak  Lottery,  the 
more  secretly  and  effectually  to  carry  on 
and  propagate  your  base,  malicious,  and 
covetous  Designs  and  Practices,  did,  and 
do  still  encourage  several  lewd  and  disor- 
derly Persons,  to  meet,  propose,  treat, 
consult,  consent,  and  agree  upon  several 
unjust  and  illegal  Methods,  how  to  en- 
snare and  entangle  Peopfe  into  your  de- 
lusive Game ;  by  which  means  you  have, 
for  many  years  last  past,  utterly,  intirely, 
and  irrecoverably,  contrary  to  all  mannei 
cf  Justice,  Humanity,  or  good  Nature, 


1425 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1426 


despoiled,  depraved,  and  defrauded,  an 
incredible  number  of  Persons  of  every 
Rank,  Age,  Sex,  and  Condition,  of  all 
their  Lands,  Goods,  and  Effects ;  and 
from  the  Ruins  of  multitudes  built  fine 
Houses,  and  purchased  large  Estates,  to 
the  great  scandal  and  reflection  on  the 
Wisdom  of  the  Nation,  for  suffering  such 
an  intolerable  Impostor  to  pass  so  long 
unpunished.  What  say'st  thou,  Squire 
Lottery,  art  thou  guilty  of  the  aforesaid 
Crimes,  Cheats,  Tricks,  and  Misde- 
meanours thou  standest  Indicted  of,  or 
not  Guilty  ? 

Lottery.  Not  Guilty.  But,  before  I 
proceed  to  make  my  Defence,  I  beg  I 
may  be  permitted  the  assistance  of  three 
or  four  learned  Sharpers  to  plead  for  me, 
in  case  any  Matter  of  Law  arise. 

This  being  assented  to,  the  Managers  of 
the  Prosecution  made  their  speeches  in 
support  of  the  Charge,  and  called  Captain 
Past  hope. 

1st  Man.  Sir,  Do  you  know  Squire 
Lottery,  the  Prisoner  at  the  Bar  ? 

Pasthope.  Yes,  I  have  known  him  inti- 
mately for  near  forty  years ;  ever  since 
the  Restoration  of  King  Charles. 

1st  Man.  Pray  will  you  give  the  Bench 
and  Jury  an  Account  what  you  know  of 
him  ;  how  he  came  into  England,  and 
how  he  has  behaved  himself  ever  since. 

Pasthope.  In  order  to  make  my  Evi- 
dence more  plain,  I  hope  it  will  not  be 
judg'd  much  out  of  form,  to  premise  two 
or  three  things. 

1st  Man.  Mr.  Pasthope,  Take  your  own 
method  to  explain  yourself;  we  must  not 
abridge  or  direct  you  in  any  respect. 

Pasthope.  In  the  years  60  and  61, 
among  a  great  many  poor  Cavaliers, 
'twas  my  hard  fate  to  be  driven  to  Court 
for  a  Subsistence,  where  I  continued  in  a 
neglected  state,  painfully  waiting  the 
moving  of  the  Waters  tor  several  months; 
when  at  last  a  Rumour  was  spread,  that  a 
certain  Stranger  was  landed  ir  England, 
that  in  all  probability,  if  we  could  get  him 
the  Sanction  of  a  Patent,  would  be  a 
good  Friend  to  us  all. 

Man.  You  seem  to  intimate  as  if  he 
was  a  Stranger  ;  pray,  do  you  know  what 
Countryman  he  was  ? 

Pasthope.  The  report  of  his  Country 
was  very  different ;  some  would  have  him 
a  Walloon,  some  a  Dutchman,  some  a 
Venetian,  and  ofhers  a  Frenchman  •  in- 
deed by  his  Policy,  cunning  Design, 
Forethought,  fyc.  I  am  very  well  satis- 
fied he  could  be  no  Englishman. 

Man.  What  kind  of  Credentials  did  he 


bring  with  him  to  recommend  him  with 
so  much  advantage  ? 

Pasthope.  Why,  he  cunningly  took 
upon  him  the  Character  of  a  Royal-Oak 
Lottery,  and  pretended  a  mighty  Friend- 
ship to  antiquated  Loyalists :  but  for  all 
that,  there  were  those  at  Court  that  knew 
he  had  been  banish'd  out  of  several  Coun- 
tries for  disorderly  Practices,  till  at  last 
he  pitch'd  upon  poor  easy  credulous 
England  for  his  Refuge. 

Man.  You  say  then,  he  was  a  Fo- 
reigner, that  he  came  in  with  the  Resto- 
ration, usurp'd  the  Title  of  a  Royal  Oak, 
was  established  in  Friendship  to  the  Ca- 
valiers, and  that  for  disorderly  Practices 
he  had  been  banish'd  out  of  several  Coun- 
tries ;  till  at  last  he  was  forc'd  to  fix 
upon  England  as  the  fittest  Asylum.  But 
pray,  Sir,  how  came  you  so  intimately 
acquainted  wiih  him  at  first? 

Pasthope.  I  was  about  to  tell  you.  In 
order  to  manage  his  Affairs,  it  was 
thought  requisite  he  should  be  provided 
with  several  Coadjutors,  which  were  to  be 
dignify'd  with  the  Character  of  Patentees  ; 
amongst  which  number,  by  the  help  of  a 
friendly  Courtier,  I  was  admitted  for 
one. 

Man.  Oh  !  then  I  find  you  was  a  Pa- 
tentee. Pray,  how  long  did  you  continue  in 
your  Patentee's  Post  ?  and  what  were  the 
Reasons  that  urg'd  you  to  quit  it  at 
last? 

Pasthope.  I  kept  my  Patentee's  Station 
nine  years,  in  which  time  I  had  clear'd 
4000/.,  and  then,  upon  some  Uneasiness 
and  Dislike,  I  sold  it  for  7001. 

Man.  Pray,  Captain,  tell  the  Court 
more  fully  what  was  the  Reason  that 
prevail'd  with  you  to  relinquish  such  a 
profitable  place. 

Pasthope.  I  had  two  very  strong  Rea- 
sons for  quitting  my  Post ;  viz.  Remorse 
of  Conscience,  and  Apprehension  of  con- 
sequent Danger.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
saw  so  many  bad  Practices  encourag'd 
and  supported,  and  so  many  persons  of 
both  Sexes  ruin'd ;  I  saw  so  much  Vil- 
lany  perfected  and  projected,  and  so  many 
other  intolerable  Mischiefs  within  the 
compass  of  every  day's  Proceeding,  that 
partly  through  the  stings  of  my  Mind 
and  the  apprehensions  I  was  under  of  the 
Mob,  with  a  great  deal  of  Reluctancy  I 
quitted  my  Post. 

Man.  Captain,  I  find  you're  nicely 
qualify'd  for  an  Evidence,  pray,  therefore, 
give  the  Court  an  Account  what  Methods 
the  Prisoner  us'd  to  take  to  advance  his 
business. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


J428 


Pasthope.  The  way  in  my  time,  and  I 
suppose  'tis  the  same  still,  was  to  send  out 
Sharpers  and  Setters  into  all  parts  of  the 
Town,  and  to  give  'em  direction  to  mag- 
nify the  Advantage,  Equality,  and  Justice 
of  his  Game,  in  order  to  decoy  Women 
and  Fools  to  come  and  play  away  their 
Money. 

Man.  Well,  but  sure  he  had  no  Wo- 
inen  or  Fools  of  Quality,  Rank,  or  Repu- 
tation^  that  came  to  him  ?  According  to 
the  common  Report  that  passes  upon 
him,  there's  none  but  the  very  Scoundrels 
and  Rabble,  the  very  Dregs  and  Refuse 
of  Fools,  will  think  him  worth  their  Con- 
versation. 

Patthope.  Truly,  he  had  'em  of  all  sorts, 
as  well  Lord-fools  and  Lady-fools,  Knight- 
fools  and  Esquire-fools,  or  any  other 
sort  of  Fools  :  and,  indeed,  he  made  no 
difference  between  'em  neither ;  a  Cobler- 
fool  had  as  much  respect  as  a  Lord-fool, 
in  proportion  to  the  money  he  had  in  his 
Pocket ;  and  pro  hac  vice  had  as  exten- 
sive a  Qualification  to  command,  domineer, 
and  hector,  as  the  best  Fool  of  'em  all. 

Man.  Did  you  never  observe  any  of 
these  Fools  to  get  any  money  of  him  ? 
I  can't  imagine  what  it  could  be  that 
could  influence  'em  to  embark  with  him, 
if  there  was  nothing  to  be  got. 

Pasthope.  There  was  never  any  body 
that  "ever  got  any  thing  of  him  in  the 
main  :  now  and  then  one  by  chance  might 
carry  off  a  small  matter;  and  so  'twas 
necessary  they  should,  for  otherwise  his 
Constitution  must  dissolve  in  course. 

Man.  Tis  a  great  mystery  to  me,  that 
so  many  People  should  pursue  a  Game 
where  every  body's  a  Loser  at  last ;  but 
pray,  Captain,  then,  what  are  the  odds  the 
Prisoner  is  reputed  to  have  against  those 
that  play  with  him  ? 

Pasthope.  No  body  can  tell  you  their 
Advantage ;  'tis  a  cunning  intricate  Con- 
texture, and  truly  I  very  much  question 
whether  the  original  Projector  himself  had 
a  perfect  Idea  of  the  Odds :  at  a  full  Table 
and  deep  Play,  I  have  seen  him  clear 
600/.  in  less  than  an  hour. 

Man.  What  are  the  Odds  he  owns  him- 
self? 

Pasthope.  Only  32  Figures  against  27, 
which  indeed  is  Odds  enough  to  insure 
all  the  money  at  length.  But  this,  it 
seems,  was  an  Advantage  that  was  allow'd 
him,  that  he  might  be  able  to  keep  a  good 
House,  relieve  the  Poor,  and  pay  an  an- 
nual Pension  to  the  Crown  or  the  Cour- 
tiers. 

Man.  You  say,  by   his  original  Agree- 


ment he's  to  keep  a  good  House :  pray 
after  all,  what  sort  of  House  is  it  he  does 
keep? 

-Past.  Why,  he  dines  at  the  Tavern, 
where  any  body  that  has  40  or  50 /.  to 
play  away  with  him  the  Afternoon,  may 
be  admitted  into  his  Company. 

Man.  What,  does  he  entertain  none 
but  those  that  have  40  or  501.  to  lose  ? 

Past.  He  never  converses  with  any 
Person  that  has  no  money :  if  they  have 
no  money,  their  Company's  burdensom 
and  ungrateful,  and  the  Waiters  have 
Directions  to  keep  'em  out. 

Man.  Does  he  do  this  to  the  very  Per 
sons  he  has  ruin'd,  and  won  all  they 
have  ?  That,  methinks,  is  a  pitch  of  Bar- 
barity beyond  the  common  degree :  I 
hardly  ever  read  or  heard  of  any  thing  so 
exaltedly  cruel  and  brutish,  in  all  the  Ac- 
counts of  my  Life. 

Past.  I  have  seen  abundance  of  Ex- 
amples of  this  nature,  one,  in  particular, 
which  I  shall  never  forget;  a  poor  Lady, 
that  had  lost  350/.  per  annum  to  him,  be- 
side two  or  three  thousand  pounds  in 
ready  money,  basely  and  inhumanly  hal'd 
out  of  doors,  but  for  asking  for  a  glass  of 
Sack. 

Man.  You  were  mentioning  his  Charity 
to  the  Poor  too;  is  there  any  thing  of 
reality  in  that  ? 

Past.  For  my  part,  I  never  heard  of 
one  good  Act  he  has  done  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  Life  :  secret  Charity  is  the 
most  meritorious,  'tis  true ;  and  perhaps 
it  may  be  that  way  he  may  communicate 
his,  for  indeed  I  never  heard  of  any  he  did 
in  publick. 

Man.  You  were  mentioning  too  an  an- 
nual Pension  to  the  Crown;  what  is  it  he 
pays  to  the  Crown  ? 

Past.  Indeed  I  cannot  be  positive  in 
that :  to  the  best  of  my  remembrance  'tis 
four  thousand  pounds  per  annum  :  in  com- 
pensation for  which,  beside  the  general 
liberty  he  has  to  cheat  and  abuse  the 
World,  he  lias  the  sole  Privilege  of  Licens- 
ing all  other  Cheats  and  Impostors,  com- 
monly known  by  the  Name  of  Lotteries. 

2rf  Man.  You  were  speaking  some- 
thing, Captain  Pasthope,  just  now,  as  if 
the  Prisoner  was  intrusted  with  these  Ad- 
vantages for  the'  benefit  of  some  poor 
Ca-'aliers,  which  were  to  be  the  Patentees, 
as  you  call  'em.  Pray  tell  the  Jury  what 
kjnd  of  Cavaliers  these  Patentees  were. 

Past.  That  was  all  but  a  Blind,  a  pure 
Trick  to  deceive  the  World  :  the  Paten- 
tees, in  the  main,  were  either  Sharpers  or 
broken  Tradesman,  or  some  such  sort  or 


1429 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES 


1430 


^  ermiri,  that  had  cunningly  twisted  them- 
selves into  the  business  under  the  shadow 
of  Cavaliers. 

Man.  Pray,  what  Opinion  had  the 
World  of  the  Prisoner  when  he  first  came 
to  be  known  in  England? 

Pasthope.  The  same  that  it  has  of  him 
now  :  all  wise  men  look'd  upon  him  as  a 
Cheat,  and  a  dangerous  Spark  to  be  let 
loose  in  publick  among  our  English  Youth : 
and  indeed  I  have  heard  a  great  many  so- 
ber men  pass  very  sharp  Censures  upon 
the  Wisdom  of  the  Court  for  intrusting 
him  with  a  Royal  Authority. 

Man.  What  kind  of  Censures  were  they 
that  they  past  ?  do  you  remember  any  of 

em  particularly  ? 

Past.  Yes,  I  remember  several  things 
that  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  mention.  I 
have  heard  'em  often  reflecting  what  an 
intolerable  Same  and  Scandal  it  was,  that 
a  whole  Kingdom  should  be  sacrificed  to 
the  Interest  of  two  or  three  Courtiers,  and 
three  or  four  scurvy  mercenary  Patentees  ; 
that  so  many  thousand  Families  should  be 
ruin'd,  and  no  notice  taken  of  it ;  that  so 
many  Wives  should  be  seduc'd  to  rob  and 
betray  their  Husbands,  so  many  Children 
and  Servants  their  Parents  and  Masters, 
arid  so  many  horrid  Mischiefs  transacted 
daily  under  the  shadow  of  this  pretended 
Royal-Oak  Lottery,  and  no  manner  of 
means  used  to  suppress  it. 

2rf  Man.  But,  Captain,  did  you  never 
hear  of  any  Person  that  got  money  of  the 
Prisoner  in  the  main  ? 

Past.  Not  one.  I  defy  him  to  produce 
one  single  person  that's  a  Gainer,  against 
a  hundred  thousand  he  has  ruin'd.  I'm 
confident  I  have  a  Catalogue  by  me  of 
several  thousands  that  have  been  utterly 
undone  by  him,  within  the  compass  of  my 
own  Experience. 

Man.  What  does  the  Town  in  general 
say  of  him  ? 

Past.  The  town,  here-a-late,  is  grown 
so  inveterate  and  incens'd  against  him, 
that  I  am  very  well  assur'd  that  if  he  had 
not  been  call'd  to  account  in  the  very 
nick,  the  Mob  would  have  speedily  taken 
him  into  their  correction. 

Man.  Well,  Sir,  you  hear  what  the  Wit- 
ness has  said  against  you ;  will  you  ask 
him  any  Questions  ? 

Lottery.  Only  one  ;  and  leave  the  rest 
till  I  come  to  make  my  general  Defence. 
Sir,  I  desire  to  know  whether  you  was  not 
one  that  was  turn'd  out  upon  the  last 
Renewal  of  the  Patent  ? 

Past.    No,  Sir,  I  was  riot.     You  might 


have  remember'd  that  I  told  you  1  saw  so 
much  of  your  Faishood  and  Tricks,  and  so 
many  innocent  People  daily  sacrific'd,  to 
support  a  Society  of  lewd,  debauch 'd,  im- 
pertinent, and  withal  imperious  Canni- 
bals, that  I  thought  it  my  best  way  to  quit 
your  Fraternity,  and  pack  off  with  that 
little  I  had  got,  and  leave  you  to  manage 
your  mathematical  Balls,'  &c.  by  your 
self. 

Man.  I  suppose,  Sir,  you  will  ask  him 
no  more  Questions,  and  so  we'll  call  ano- 
ther Witness. 

Lottery.  No,  Sir,  I  have  done  with 
him. 

Man.  Call  Squire  Frivolous,  the  Coun- 
sellor :  Sir,  do  you  know  Squire  Lottery, 
the  Prisoner? 

Frivolous.  I  have  been  acquainted  with 
him  several  years,  to  my  great  Cost  and 
Damage.  The  first  time  I  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  know  him,  was  at  an  Act  at 
Oxford  about  twenty  years  ago ;  where 
among  abundance  of  other  young  Fools 
that  he  entic'd  to  sell  their  Books  for 
Money  to  play  with  him,  &c.  I  was  one. 

Man.  What,  I  hope,  he  was  not  so  bar 
barous  as  to  decoy  the  poor  young  Gen 
tlemen  out  of  their  Books  ? 

Frivolous.  Yes,  out  of  every  thing  they 
had,  and  out  of  the  College  to  boot :  For 
my  own  part  I  have  reason  to  curse  him, 
I'm  sure ;  He  flatter'd  me  up  with  so 
many  Shams  and  false  Pretences,  and  de- 
luded me  with  so  many  chimerical 
Notions  and  cunning  Assurances,  and 
urg'd  me  so  long  from  one  deceitful  Pro- 
ject to  another,  till  at  last  he  had  trickt 
me  out  of  all  I  had  in  the  world,  and  then 
turn'd  me  over  to  the  scorn  and  laughter 
of  my  Friends  and  Acquaintance. 

Man.  Can  you  give  the  Bench  any 
particular  Names  of  Persons  he  has 
ruin'd  ? 

Frivolous.  I  have  a  Collection  01 
Names  in  my  Pocket,  which  I'm  sure  he 
can't  object  against,  that  have  lost  four- 
teen or  fifteen  thousand  Pound  per  An- 
num, within  my  own  Knowledg  and 
Acquaintance. 

Man.  That's  a  round  Sum :  But,  pray, 
Mr.  Frivolous,  for  the  satisfaction  of  the 
Jury,  mention  a  few  of  their  Names. 

Frivolous.  I  suppose,  Squire  Lottery, 
you  must  remember  the  Kentish  Squire 
in  the  Blue  Coat,  that  you  won  the  six 
hundred  Pound  per  Annum  of,  in  less  than 
five  months.  You  remember  the  Lord' 
Steward  that  lost  an  Estate  of  his  own  or 
three  hundred  Pouna  per  Annum,  and  run 


H31 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1432 


four  thousand  Pound  in  Arrears  to  his 
Lord  beside.  You  remember,  I  suppose, 
the  West-India  Widow,  that  lost  the  Car- 
go of  two  Ships,  valued  at  fifteen  hundred 
Pound,  in  less  than  a  month.  I  know 
you  can't  forget  the  honest  Lady  at  St. 
James's,  that  sold  all  her  Goods,  Plate, 
and  China,  for  about  seven  hundred 
Pound,  and  paid  it  all  away  to  you,  as 
near  as  I  remember,  in  three  mornings.  I 
know  you  can't  forget  the  three  Merchants' 
Daughters  that  play'd  away  their  whole 
Fortunes,  viz.  fifteen  hundred  Pounds 
apiece  in  less  than  two  months.  You  re- 
member the  Silkman  from  Ludgate-hill  ; 
the  young  Draper  in  Cornhil ;  the  Coun- 
try Parson;  the  Doctor  of  Physick's 
Daughter ;  the  Lady's  Woman  ;  the  Mer- 
chant's Apprentice  ;  the  Marine  Captain ; 
the  Ensign  of  the  Guards  ;  the  Coffee- 
man's  Neece ;  the  old  Justice's  Nephew ; 
and  abundance  of  others,  which  I  have  in 
my  Catalogue,  that  you  have  cheated  out 
of  large  Sums,  and  utterly  ruin'd. 

Lottery.  I  desire  that  he  may  be  ask'd, 
what  it  was  that  influenc'd  him  at  first  to 
make  such  a  Catalogue  ? 

Man.  He  desires  to  know  upon  what 
account  it  was  that  you  made  this  Collec- 
tion of  Names  ? 

Frivolous.  I  had  once  a  design  to  have 
him  call'd  to  an  Account,  and  forc'd  to  a 
Restitution  ;  in  which  case  I  thought  the 
Names  of  these  Persons  might  be  of  some 
use  to  me. 

Man.  What  Method  did  you  propose 
to  your  self  to  bring  him  to  a  Restitu- 
tion ? 

Frivolous.  I  had  a  Notion,  that  if  I 
drew  up  the  Case,  and  got  it  recom- 
mended to  the  Honourable  House  of  Com- 
mons, they  would  have  thought  the  Pris- 
oner worth  their  correction  :  But  this  he 
got  intelligence  of,  and  employ'd  one  of 
his  Agents  to  make  up  the  matter  with 
me. 

Man.  What,  I  suppose  you  mean  he 
brib'd  you  with  a  Sum  of  Money  to  de- 
cline the  Prosecution  ? 

Frivolous.  Truly  you  have  hit  of  the 
very  thing ;  he  knew  that  I  was  poor,  and 
he  was  guilty,  and  so  compounded  with 
me  for  a  few  Guineas  to  let  the  thing  fall : 
And  indeed,  if  I  am  not  misinform'd,  his 
Art  of  Bribing,  &c.  has  guarded  him  so 
long  from  the  Punishments  which  the 
Laws  of  the  Land,  and  common  Justice, 
have  provided  for  such  notorious  Of- 
fenders. 

Other  witnesses  having  been  called, 


the  arraigned  defended  himself  as    fol- 
lows : — 

Lottery.  Sir,  I  intend  to  spend  as  little 
of  your  time  as  I  can  :  I  perceive,  that, 
let  me  say  what  I  will,  you  are  prepar'd 
to  over-rule  it,  and  so  I'll  only  say  a  few 
words,  and  call  three  or  four  Witnesses  to 
prove  my  reputation,  and  then  leave  the 
good  Men  and  true  of  the  Jury,  upon 
whose  Verdict  I  must  stand  or  fall,  to  use 
me  as  they  shall  best  judg  the  nature  of 
my  Case  deserves. 

I  know,  Gentlemen,  the  tide  of  Preju- 
dice runs  very  fierce  against  me  ;  so  that 
let  me  say  what  I  will,  I'm  satisfy'd  it 
will  be  all  to  very  little  purpose;  an  ill 
Name  to  a  Person  in  my  condition  is  cer- 
tain Death,  which  indeed  makes  me  a 
little  more  indifferent  in  making  my  de- 
fence. 

But,  Gentlemen,  look  upon  me,  I  am 
the  very  Image  of  some  of  you,  a  married 
Protestant ;  upon  which  account  I'm  con- 
fident I  may  rely  upon  a  little  of  your 
Justice,  if  not  your  Favour. 

The  Crimes  I  am  charged  with  are  in- 
deed very  great,  and,  what's  worse,  there's 
some  of  'em  I  can  never  expect  to  evince. 
But  then,  Gentlemen,  I  hope  you'l  consi- 
der, that  whatever  I  did,  was  purely  in 
the  prosecution  of  my  occupation ;  and 
you  know  withal  what  Authority  I  had 
for  it ;  so  that  if  by  chance,  in  this  long 
tract  of  time,  every  thing  should  not  be  so 
nicely  conformable  as  you  expect,  I  hope 
you'l  take  care  to  lay  the  Saddle  upon  the 
right  Horse. 

You  all  know  that  Covetousness  and 
Cheating  are  the  inseparable  Companions 
of  a  Gamester ;  divide  him  from  them, 
and  he's  the  most  insignificant  Creature  in 
Nature.  And,  Gentlemen,  I  appeal  to 
your  selves,  if  a  little  useful  lying  and 
falshood  be  not  (in  some  cases)  not  only 
tolerable,  but  commendable.  I  dare  say 
you  will  agree  with  me  in  this,  that  if  all 
the  Knaves  and  Cheats  of  the  Nation 
were  call'd  to  the  Bar  and  executed,  there 
would  only  be  a  few  Fools  left  to  defend 
the  Commonwealth. 

But,  Gentlemen,  as  I  told  you  before,  I 
won't  spend  your  time,  and  therefore  I'll 
call  my  Witnesses.  Call  Captain  Quondam. 
Cryer.  Call  Capt.  Quondam. 
Lottery.    Sir,  I  desire  you  would  give 
the  Court  an  account  what  you  know  of 
me,  as  to  Life  and  Conversation. 

Quondam.  1  have  known  the  Prisoner 
for  several  years,  and  have  been  often  in 
his  company  upon  particular  occasions 


1433 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1434 


and  never  saw  any  thing  that  was  rude  or 
unhandsome  by  him. 

Man.  Pray,  noble  Captain,  what  Coun- 
tryman are  you  ? 

Quondam.  Sir,  I  am  a  West-Country- 
man. 

Man.  An  English  West-Country,  or  a 
West-India  Man?  orwhat? 

Quondam.  I  am  a  West-Countryman 
of  his  Majesty's  own  Dominions,  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Ireland,  in  the  County  of 
Cork,  and  Parish  of  Durrus  in  the  Barony 
of  West-Car  bury,  near  the  great  Bogg  of 
Longuar,  Gent. 

Man.  You're  a  West-Countryman  with 
a  Witness.  And,  pray,  how  long  have 
you  been  in  England  ? 

Quondam.  Ever  since  the  last  year  of 
my  Soveraign  Lord  King  James. 

Man.  And,  pray,  how  long  have  you 
been  a  Captain  ? 

Quondam.  I  was  born  so ;  my  Father, 
my  Grandfather,  great  Grandfather,  and 
most  of  my  Kin,  were  all  Captains  before 
me. 

Man.  You  say  you  have  been  often  in 
the  Prisoner's  Company ;  pray  where 
have  you  been  in  his  Company,  and  upon 
what  account  ? 

Quondam.  I  have  been  in  his  Company 
at  Epsom,  Tunbridge,  Lambeth,  Islington, 
and  at  several  other  places  both  in  Town 
and  Country. 

Man.  Well,  but  you  ha'n't  told  what 
was  the  occasion  that  brought  you  so  oft 
/nto  his  Company. 

Quondam.  He  desired  me  to  go  along 
with  him  to  help  him  to  divert  and  enter- 
tain his  Guests,  especially  the  Ladies  that 
us'd  to  visit  him. 

Man.  I  suppose  you're  one  of  his  De- 
pendents :  had  you  never  no  salary  from 
him  ? 

Quondam.  I  have  had  several  Favours 
from  him,  and  I  must  own  I  love  him  very 
well  ;  and,  by  my  Shoul,  I  believe  he's  a 
very  honest  Man,  and  a  good  Christian. 

Man.  Who's  your  next  evidence? 

Lottery.  I  desire  Mr.  Scamper  may  be 
call'd. 

Cry.  Call  Mr.  Scamper. 

Lottery.  Pray,  Mr.  Scamper,  give  the 
Court  an  Account  what  you  know  of  me, 
as  to  my  manner  of  living  and  behaviour 
in  the  World. 

Scamper.  You  know,  Squire  Lottery, 
your  Acquaintance  and  mine  is  but  of  a 
late  Date  ;  I  never  saw  you  till  last  May 
at  Lambeth  Wells,  and  then  'twas  but  by 
accident  too. 


After  other  witnesses  called  in  his  be- 
half, whose  testimony,  however,  tended 
to  inculpate  Squire  "  Royal  Oak,"  the 
evidence  was  summed  up. 

"  Then  the  jury  withdrew  to  consider 
of  their  verdict,  and  afterwards  they  re- 
turned into  the  court,  and  the  prisoner 
was  brought  again  to  the  bar  and  found 
guilty,  according  to  the  indictment,  and 
afterwards  received  sentence,  together 
with  Mr.  Auction  and  Dr.  Land-Bank, 
who  were  both  tryed,  convicted,  and  con- 
demned; and  their  trials  will  be  pub- 
lished with  all  possible  speed.  FINIS." 

There  is  no  reason  to  doubt,  that 
the  representations  in  the  preceding  satire 
are  substantially  correct.  Private  and 
fallacious  lotteries  were  at  this  time  be- 
come so  general,  not  only  in  London, 
but  in  most  other  great  cities  and  towns 
of  England,  whereby  the  lower  people 
and  the  servants  and  children  of  good 
families  were  defrauded,  that  an  act  of 
parliament  was  therefore  passed  10  and 
11  William  III.  c.  17,  for  suppressing 
such  lotteries ;  "  even  although  they  might 
be  set  up  under  colour  of  patents  or  grants 
under  the  great  seal.  Which  said  grants 
or  patents,"  says  the  preamble  "  are 
against  the  common  good,  welfare,  and 
peace  of  the  kingdon,  and  are  void  and 
against  law."  A  penalty  therefore  of 
five  hundred  pounds  was  laid  on  the  pro- 
prietors of  any  such  lotteries,  and  of 
twenty  pounds  on  every  adventurer  in 
them.  Notwithstanding  this,  the  like  dis- 
position to  fraud  and  gaining  prevailed 
again,  till  fresh  laws  were  enacted  for  their 
suppression.* 


It  is  observed,  that  if  the  lottery  office 
keepers  of  the  present  century  could  be 
credited,  their  adventurers  enjoyed  greater 
gaming  privileges  than  the  world  ever 
produced;  and  yet  it  is  an  indubi- 
table fact,  that  in  the  early  state  lotteries 
the  advantages  offered  were  eminently 
superior  to  those  of  recent  times. 

The  Post  Boy  of  December  27  says, 
"  We  are  informed  that  the  parliamentary 
lottery  will  be  fixed  in  this  manner  :— 
150,000  tickets  will  be  delivered  out  at 
10J.  each  ticket,  making  in  all  the  sum  of 
1,500,000/.  sterling;  the  principal  whereof 
is  to  be  sunk,  the  parliament  allowing 
nine  per  cent,  interest  for  the  whole  during 
the  term  of  thirty-two  years,  which 


1435 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1436 


terest  is  to  be  divided  as  follows :  3750 
tickets  will  be  prizes  from  1000?.  to  57. 
per  annum  during  the  said  thirty-two 
years  ;  all  the  other  tickets  will  be  blanks, 
so  that  there  will  be  thirty-nine  of  these 
to  one  prize,  but  then  each  blank  ticket 
will  be  entitled  to  fourteen  shillings  a  year 
for  the  term  of  thirty-two  years,  which  is 
better  than  an  annuity  for  life  at  ten  per 
cent,  over  and  above  the  chance  of  getting 
a  prize."  Such  was  the  eagerness  of  the 
public  in  subscribing  to  the  above  pro- 
fitable scheme,  that  Mercers-hall  was 
literally  crowded,  and  the  clerks  were 
found  incompetent  to  receive  the  influx 
of  names.  600,000/.  was  subscribed 
January  2 1  ;  and  on  the  28th  of  February 
the  sum  of  1,500,000/.  was  completed. 


The  rage  for  lotteries  reigned  uncon- 
trolled ;  and  the  newspapers  of  the  day 
teemed  with  proposals  issued  by  every 
ravenous  adventurer  who  could  collect  a 
few  valuable  articles;  and  from  those, 
shopkeepers  took  the  hitit,  and  goods  of 
every  description  were  converted  into 
prizes,  even  neckcloths,  snuff-boxes,  tooth- 
pick-cases, linen,  muslin,  and  plate.  The 
prices  of  tickets  were  generally  sixpence, 
a  shilling,  half  a  crown,  &c.  At  the  latter 
end  of  the  year  just  mentioned,  the  ma- 
gistrates, being  alarmed,  declared  their 
intention  of  putting  the  act  of  William 
and  Mary  in  force,  which  levied  a  penalty 
of  5007.  on  the  proprietor,  and  207.  on 
each  purchaser. 

Matthew  West,  a  goldsmith,  of  Clare- 
street,  Clare-market,  appears  to  have  been 
the  man  who  first  divided  lottery  tickets 
into  shares.  He  advertised,  in  1712,  that 
he  had  sold  1 00  tickets  in  the  million  and 
an  half  lottery  in  twentieths,  and  pur- 
posed pursuing  his  plan,  which  was  well 
received. 

The  lottery  for  1714  contained  50,000 
tickets  at  107.  each,  with  6982  prizes  and 
43,018  blanks ;  two  of  the  former  were 
10,0007.,  with  one  of  5,  another  of  40007., 
a  third  of  30007.,  and  a  fourth  of  20007., 
five  of  10007.,  ten  of  5007.,  twenty  of 
2007.,  fifty  of  1007.,  four  hundred  of  507., 
and  six  thousand,  four  hundred,  and  nine- 
ty-one of  207. 

Besides  the  drawing  for  prizes  and 
blanks,  there  was  another  for  the  course 
of  payment,  and  each  1000  tickets  was 
called  a  course.  The  payments  to  the 
receivers  were  on  the  10th  of  November 


and  10th  of  December,  1713.  When  the 
tickets  were  drawn,  they  were  exchanged 
for  standing  orders,  and  thus  rendered 
assignable  by  endorsement ;  all  the  blanks 
were  repaid  the  107.  per  ticket  at  one 
payment,  in  the  order  their  course  of 
payment  happened  to  fall,  and  they  bore 
an  interest  of  four  per  cent,  from  Michael- 
mas 1713.  The  prizes  were  payable  in 
the  same  manner :  the  first  drawn  ticket 
had  5007.;  the  last  10007.  besides  the 
general  chance  ;  35,0007.  per  annum  was 
payable  weekly  from  the  Exchequer  to 
the  paymaster  for  the  discharge  of  the 
principal  and  interest,  and  the  whole 
funds  of  the  civil  list  were  chargeable 
for  thirty-two  years  for  35,0007.  per 
annum.* 


One  of  the  schemes  which  preceded 
the  bubbles  of  1720  was  an  insurance- 
office  for  lottery  tickets,  opened  at  Mer- 
cers-hall;  and  120,0007.  was  actually 
subscribed  on  the  following  terms  :  for 
every  ninety-six  tickets  insured,  the  pro- 
prietors agreed  to  allow  to  the  company 
(after  the  tickets  were  drawn)  16*.  per 
ticket,  and  five  per  cent.  011  such  prizes 
as  occurred  to  the  ninety-six  tickets,  the 
company  returning  the  tickets,  and  in 
case  the  prizes  did  not  amount  to  2887. 
valuing  the  prizes  at  par;  the  company 
to  make  up  the  money  37.  for  every  ticket. 
For  every  forty-eight  tickets  the  pro- 
prietors agreed  to  allow  19s.  per  ticket, 
and  five  per  cent,  on  the  prizes  as  above ; 
the  company  making  up  the  tickets  1447. 
or  37.  per  ticket,  and  so  on  down  to  twelve 
tickets.  The  proprietors  of  the  tickets  to 
advance  no  money  for  this  security ;  but, 
'when  drawn,  to  allow  as  above;  the 
tickets  to  be  deposited  with  the  company, 
and  placed  by  them  under  seal  in  the 
bank  of  England;  if  not  called  for  in 
ninety  days  after  the  drawing,  to  be 
forfeited.f 


In  1712,  gambling  prevailed  in  smaller 
private  and  unlawful  lotteries,  under  the 
denomination  of  sales  of  gloves,  fans, 
cards,  plate,  &c. ;  also  offices  were  opened 
for  insurances  on  marriages,  births, 
christenings,  services,  &c.  and  daily  ad- 
vertisements thereof  were  published  in 
the  newspapers.  By  an  act  of  the  tenth 
of  queen  Anne,  keepers  of  these  lotteries 


*  Malcolm. 


4  Ibid. 


1437 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1438 


and  offices  were  subjected  lo  a  penalty  of 
500/.  In  1716,  the  spirit  of  adventure 
was  excited  by  the  sale  of  chance?  and 
parts  of  chances  of  tickets,  which  occa- 
sioned parliament  again  to  interfere :  all 
such  practices,  and  all  undertakings  re- 
sembling lotteries,  or  founded  on  the  state 
lottery,  were  declared  illegal,  and  prohi- 
bited under  a  penalty  of  IQQl.  beyond  the 
penalties  previously  enacted  against 
private  lotteries.* 


LUCKY  NUMBERS. 

The  attention  of  "  the  Spectator"  was 
directed  to  the  lottery  mania  prevailing  at 
this  period.    One  of  its  writers  observing, 
on  the  predilection  for  particular  numbers, 
ranks  it  among  the  pastimes  and  extrava- 
gancies of  human  reason,  which  is  of  so 
busy  a  nature,  that  it  will  exert  itself  on 
the  meanest  trifles,  and  work  even  when  it 
wants  materials.  He  instances,  that  when  a 
man  has  a  mind  to  adventure  his  money  in 
a  lottery,  every  figure  of  it  appears  equally 
alluring,  and  as  likely  to  succeed  as  any 
of  its  fellows.     They  all  of  them  have  the 
same  pretensions  to  goodluck,  stand  uppa 
the  same  foot   of  competition ;   and    no 
manner  of  reason  can  be  given,  why  a 
man  should  prefer  one  to  the  other,  before 
the  lottery  is  drawn.     In  this  case  there- 
fore, caprice  very  often  acts  in  the  place 
of  reason,  and  forms  to  itself  some  ground- 
less  imaginary  motive,  where  real   and 
substantial  ones  are  wanting.     I  know  a 
well-meaning  man    that    is    very    well 
pleased  to  risk  his  good  fortune  upon  the 
number  1711,  because  it  is  the  year  of 
our  Lord.     I  am  acquainted  with  a  tacker 
that  would  give  a  good  deal  for  the  num- 
ber 134.     On  the  contrary,  I  have  been 
told  of  a  certain  zealous  dissenter,  who 
being  a  great  enemy  to  popery,  and  be- 
lieving that  bad  men  are  the  most  fortun- 
ate in  this  world,  will  lay  two  to  one  on 
the  number  666  against  any  other  number; 
because,  says  he,  it  is  the  number  of  the 
beast.     Several  would  prefer  the  number 
12000  before  any  other,  as  it  is  the  number 
of  the  pounds  in  the  great  prize.     In  short, 
some  are  pleased  to  find  their  own  age 
in  their  number;    some  that  they  have 
got  a  number  which  makes  a  pretty  ap- 
pearance in  the  cyphers ;  and  others,  be- 
cause it  is  the  same  number  that  succeeded 
in  the  last  lottery      Each  of  these,  upon 

*  Anderson. 


no  other  grounds,  thinks  he  stands  fairest 
for  the  great  lot,  and  that  he  is  possessed 
of  what  may  not  be  improperly  called  the 
golden  number. 

I  remember  among  the  advertisements 
in  the  "  Post  Boy"  of  September  the  27th, 
I  was  surprised  to  see  the  following  one  : 

This  is  to  give  notice,  that  ten  shillings 
over  and  above  the  market-price  ivill  be 
given  for  the  ticket  in  the  1500000/.  Lot- 
tery, N°  1 32,  by  Nath.  Cliff,  at  the  Bible 
and  Three  Crowns  in  Cheapside. 

This  advertisement  has  given  great 
matter  of  speculation  to  coffee-house  theo- 
rists. Mr.  Cliff's  principles  and  conver- 
sation have  been  canvassed  upon  this 
occasion,  and  various  conjectures  made, 
why  he  should  thus  set  his  heart  upon 
N°  132.  I  have  examined  all  the  powers 
in  those  numbers,  broken  them  into  frac- 
tions, extracted  the  square  and  cube  root, 
divided  and  multiplied  them  all  ways, 
but  could  not  arrive  at  the  secret  till 
about  three  days'  ago,  when  I  received 
the  following  letter  from  an  unknown 
hand,  by  which  I  find  that  Mr.  Nathaniel 
Cliff  is  only  the  agent,  and  not  the  prin- 
cipal, in  this  advertisement. 

"  Mr.  Spectator, 

"  I  am  the  person  that  lately  advertised 
I  would  give  ten  shillings  more  than  the 
current  price  for  the  ticket  N°  132  in  the 
lottery  now  drawing ;  which  is  a  secret  I 
have  communicated  to  some  friends,  who 
rally  me  incessantly  upon  that  account. 
You  must  know  I  have  but  one  ticket, 
for  which  reason,  and  a  certain  dream  I 
have  lately  had  more  than  once,  I  was 
resolved  it  should  be  the  number  I  most 
approved.  I  am  so  positive  I  have  pitched 
upon  the  great  lot,  that  I  could  almost 
lay  all  I  am  worth  of  it.  My  visions  are 
so  frequent  and  strong  upon  this  occasion, 
that  I  have  not  only  possessed  the  lot, 
but  disposed  of  the  money  which  in  all 
probability  it  will  sell  for.  This  morning, 
in  particular,  I  set  up  an  equipage  which 
I  look  upon  to  be  the  gayest  in  the  town ; 
the  liveries  are  very  rich,  but  not  gaudy. 
I  should  be  very  glad  to  see  a  speculation 
or  two  upon  lottery  subjects,  in  which 
you  would  oblige  all  people  concerned, 
and  in  particular 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 

"  George  Gosling." 

"  P.  S.  Dear  Spec,  if  I  get  the  120001, 
I'll  make  thee  a  handsome  present." 


1439 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1440 


After  having  wished  my  correspondent 
good  luck,  and  thanked  him  for  his  in- 
tended kindness,  I  shall  for  this  time  dis- 
miss the  subject  of  the  lottery,  and  only 
observe,  that  the  greatest  part  of  mankind 
are  in  some  degree  guilty  of  my  friend 
Gosling's  extravagance.  We  are  apt  to 
rely  upon  future  prospects,  and  become 
really  expensive  while  we  are  only  rich 
in  possibility.  We  live  up  to  our  expec- 
tations, not  to  our  possessions,  and  make 
a  figure  proportionable  to  what  we  may 
be,  not  what  we  are.  We  outrun  our 
present  income,  as  not  doubting  to  dis- 
burse ourselves  out  of  the  profits  of  some 
future  place,  project,  or  reversion  that  we 
have  in  view.  It  is  through  this  temper 
of  mind,  which  is  so  common  among  us, 
that  we  see  tradesmen  break,  who  have 
met  with  no  misfortunes  in  their  business; 
and  men  of  estates  reduced  to  poverty, 
who  have  never  suffered  from  losses  or 
repairs,  tenants,  taxes,  or  law-suits.  In 


short,  it  is  this  foolish  sanguine  temper, 
this  depending  upon  contingent  futurities, 
that  occasions  romantic  generosity,  chi- 
merical grandeur,  senseless  ostentation, 
and  generally  ends  in  beggary  and  ruin. 
The  man  who  will  live  above  his  present 
circumstances  is  in  great  danger  01  living 
in  a  little  time  much  beneath  them,  or,  as 
the  Italian  proverb  runs,  the  man  who 
lives  by  hope  will  die  by  hunger. 

It  should  be  an  indispensable  rule  in 
life,  to  contract  our  desires  to  our  present 
condition,  and  whatever  may  be  our  ex- 
pectations, to  live  within  the  compass  of 
what  we  actually  possess.  It  will  be 
time  enough  to  enjoy  an  estate  when  it 
comes  into  our  hands ;  but  if  we  antici- 
pate our  good  fortune,  we  shall  lose  the 
pleasure  of  it  when  it  arrives,  and  may 
possibly  never  possess  what  we  have  so 
foolishly  counted  upon.* 

*  Spectator,  No.  191. 


,  1826. 


This  engraving  is  slipped  on  here  for 
the  sake  of  readers  who  are  fond  of  cuts, 
rather  than  as  an  illustration  of  any  thing 
immediately  preceding.  An  explanation 


of  it  will  occur  in  the  ensuing  sheet, 
with  several  amusing  prints  relating  tc 
the  present  subject. 


t441 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1442 


Bratofng  $cf;e& 


In  "  The  Examiner"*  there  is  an  arti- 
cle on  Lotteries  by  Mr.  George  Smeeton, 
of  Bermondsey  :  wherein  he  says,  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  that  Mr.  Hone  has  taken  up 
the  subject  in  his  Every-Day  Book,  by 
giving  us  a  view  of  the  drawing  of  the 
lottery,  1751  ;  and  this  month  (October) 
I  hope  he  will  treat  us  with  a  continuation 
of  it.  The  print  by  N.  Parr,  in  six  com- 
partments, entitled  Les Divertissements  de 
la  Loterie,  is  worthy  of  his  attention  :  it 
is  a  lively  and  true  picture  of  the  folly, 
infatuation,  and  roguery  of  the  times.  If 
he  has  not  the  print  (which  is  rather 
scarce)  I  can  furnish  him  with  it  out 
of  my  portfolio.'*  Mr.  Smeeton  has 
obligingly  communicated  the  loan  of  his 
engraving,  from  whence  the  representa- 
tion on  this  page  has  been  selected.  The 


•  Sunday,  October  22,  1826 

VOL.  II.— W. 


original  print,  designed  by  J.  Marchant, 
drawn  by  H.  Gravelot,  and  engraved  by 
Parr, was  "  published  by  E.  Ryland,  in  Ave 
Mary-lane/'  in  the  year  17 —  hundred 
odd ;  the  scissars  having  snipped  away  from 
this  copy  of  the  engraving  the  two  figures 
which  particularized  the  year,  it  cannot  be 
specified,  though  from  the  costume  it  ap- 
pears to  have  been  in  the  reign  of 
George  II. 

Parr's  print  is  in  six  compartments : 
the  four  corner  ones  represent,  1 .  "  Good 
Luck — £1000  prize ;"  a  scene  of  rejoicing 
at  the  news.  2.  "  Bad  Luck — what,  all 
blanks  ?"  a  scene  of  social  disturbance. 
3.  «  Oh — let  Fortune  be  kind;"  the  desires 
of  a  female  party  in  conference  with  an 
old  woman,  who  divines  by  coffee- 
grounds.  4.  "  Dear  Doctor  I  consult  the 
stars ;"  another  female  party  waiting  on  a 
fortune-teller  for  a  cast  of  his  office.  The 
middle  compartment  at  the  bottom  has  a 


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THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOKx—LOTTERIES. 


1444 


view  of  "  Exchange-alley,"  with  its  fre- 
quenters, in  high  business.  The  middle 
compartment,  above  it,  is  the  drawing  of 
the  lottery  in  the  view  now  placed  before 
the  reader,  wherein  it  may  be  perceived 
that  the  female  visitants  are  pewed  off'  on 
one  side  and  the  men  on  the  other ;  and 
that  the  pickpockets  dextrously  exercise 
their  vocation  among  the  promiscuous 
crowd  at  the  moment  when  the  drawing 
of  a  thousand  pound  prize  excites  a 
strong  interest,  and  a  female  attracts  atten- 
tion by  proclaiming  herself  the  holder  of 
the  lucky  •«  No.  765." 

To  this  eager  display  of  the  ticket  by 
the  fortunate  lady,  a  representation  of  a 
scene  at  the  drawing  of  "  the  very  last 
lottery  that  will  ever  be  drawn  in  Eng- 
land" might  be  a  collateral  illustration. 


THE  UNFORTUNATE  LADY. 

On  the  2d  of  November,  1826,  a  lady 
named  Free,  who  had  come  up  from  the 
country  to  try  her  fortune  in  the  lottery, 
complained  to  the  Lord  Mayor,  at  the 
Mansion-house,  that  she  had  been  de- 
prived of  her  property,  the  sixteenth  share 
of  a  30,0007.  prize,  by  the  misconduct  of 
those  engaged  in  conducting  the  drawing. 
She  stated,  that  she  chose  the  ticket  No. 
17,092. 

The  Lord  Mayor. — You  had  some  par- 
ticular reason,  then,  for  selecting  that 
number? 

The  Complainant  replied,  it  was  true, 
she  had  ;  she  wished  to  have  a  ticket  with 
the  number  of  the  year  in  which  she  was 
born,  and  finding  that  she  could  not  get 
that  precise  number,  she  took  one  of 
17,000,  instead  of  1700,  as  the  most  for- 
tunate approach.  So  indeed  it  turned 
out  to  be  ;  for  she  was  sitting  in  the  hall 
where  the  lottery  was  drawn,  and  heard 
her  number  distinctly  cried  out  as  one  of 
the  30,0007.  prizes,  and  with  her  own  eyes 
she  distinctly  saw  the  officer  stamp  it. 
Nevertheless,  another  ticket  had  been  re- 
turned as  the  prize. 

The  Lord  Mayor  doubted,  from  the 
manner  in  which  the  tickets  were  well 
known  to  be  drawn,  whether  the  com- 
plainant's anxiety  had  not  made  her  mis- 
take a  similar  number  for  her  own. 

The  Complainant. — "  Oh  no,  my  lord ; 
i»  is  impossible  that  I  can  be  mistaken, 
though  other  people  say  I  am.  I  shall 
not  give  up  my  claim,  on  the  word  of  lot- 
tery-office clerks.  If  there's  any  mistake, 


it  is  on  their  part ;  I  trust  to  my  own 
senses." 

The  Lord  Mayor  observed,  that  there 
was  scarcely  any  trusting  even  to  the 
"  senses  "  on  such  occasions ;  and  asked 
her,  whether  she  did  not  almost  feel  the 
money  in  her  pockets  at  the  very  time 
she  fancied  she  heard  her  number  an- 
nounced ? 

The  Complainant  assured  his  lordship, 
that  she  heard  the  announcement  as 
calmly  as  could  be  expected,  and  that  she 
by  no  means  fainted  away.  She  certainly 
made  sure  of  having  the  property ;  she  sat 
in  the  hall,  and  went  out  "when  the  other 
expectants  came  away. 

Mr.  Cope,  the  marshal,  who  stated  that 
he  was  in  attendance  officially  at  the 
drawing,  to  keep  the  peace,  declared  that 
he  heard  all  the  fortunate  numbers  an- 
nounced, and  he  was  sorry  to  be  com- 
pelled to  state  his  conviction  that  this  be- 
longing to  the  lady  was  not  one  of  them. 

The  Lord  Mayor  said,  he  was  afraid 
the  complainant  had  deceived  herself.  He 
dismissed  the  application,  recommending 
her  to  go  to  the  stamp-office,  and  apply 
to  the  commissioners,  who  would  do  any 
thing  except  pay  the  money  to  satisfy 
her.* 

In  allusion  to  the  lady's  name,  and  his 
decision  on  her  case,  his  lordship  is  said 
to  have  observed  on  her  departure, 
"  not  Free  and  Easy." 

Reverting  to  a  former  period,  for  the 
sake  of  including  some  remarkable  notices 
of  lotteries  adduced  by  Mr.  Smeeton,  we 
find  him  saying,  on  the  authority  of  the 
"  London  Gazette,'*  May  17,  1688,  that, 
besides  the  lottery  at  the  Vere-street 
theatre,  "  Ogilby,  the  better  to  carry  on 
his  Britannia,  had  a  lottery  of  books  at 
Garraways  Coffee-house,  in  'Change- 
alley." 

Mr.  Smeeton  has  the  following  three 
paragraphs  : — 

Lotteries  of  various  kinds  seem  to  have 
been  very  general  about  this  period  ;  in- 
deed so  much  so,  that  government,  issued 
a  notice  in  the  London  Gazette,  Sept.  27, 
1683,  to  prevent  the  drawing  of  any 
lotteries  (and  especially  a  newly-invented 
lottery,  under  the  name  of  the  riffiing,  or 
raffling  lottery)  except  those  under  his 
majesty's  letters  patent  for  thirteen  years, 
granted  to  persons  for  their  sufferings,  and 

*  The  Times,  November  a,  1828. 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1446 


have  their  seal  of  office  with  this  inscrip- 
tion— *  Meliora  Designavi.' 

In  1683,  prince  Rupert  dying  rather 
poor,  a  plan  was  devised  to  "  raise  the 
wind"  by  disposing  of  all  his  jewels; 
but  as  the  public  were  not  satisfied  with 
the  mode  of  drawing  the  lotteries,  on  ac- 
count of  the  many  cheats  practised  on 
them,  they  would  not  listen  to  any  pro- 
posals, until  the  king  himself  guaranteed 
to  see  that  all  was  fair,  and  also,  that  Mr. 
Francis  Child,  the  goldsmith,  at  Temple- 
bar,  London,  would  be  answerable  for 
their  several  adventures ;  as  appears  by 
the  London  Gazette,  Oct.  1,  1683  :— 
"  These  are  to  give  notice,  that  the  jewels 
of  his  late  royal  highness  prince  Rupert 
have  been  particularly  valued  and  ap- 
praised by  Mr.  Isaac  Legouch,  Mr.  Chris- 
topher Rosse,  and  Mr.  Richard  Beauvoir, 
jewellers,  the  whole  amounting  to  twenty 
thousand  pounds,  and  will  be  sold  by 
way  of  lottery,  each  lot  to  be  five 
pounds.  The  biggest  prize  will  be  a 
'great  pearl  necklace,  valued  at  8,000?., 
and  none  less  than  100/.  A  printed  parti- 
cular of  the  said  appraisement,  with  their 
divisions  into  lots,  will  be  delivered  gratis, 
by  Mr.  Francis  Child,  at  Temple-bar, 
London,  into  whose  hands  such  as  are 
willing  to  be  adventurers  are  desired  to 
pay  their  money,  on  or  before  the  first 
day  of  November  next.  As  soon  as  the 
whole  sum  is  paid  in,  a  short  day  will  be 
appointed  (which,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  be- 
fore Christmas)  and  notified  in  the  Ga- 
zette, for  the  drawing  thereof,  which  will 
be  done  in  his  majesty's  presence,  who  is 
pleased  to  declare,  that  he  himself  will  see 
all  the  prizes  put  in  amongst  the  blanks, 
and  that  the  whole  will  be  managed 
with  equity  and  fairness,  nothing  being 
intended  but  the  sale  of  the  said  jewels 
at  a  moderate  value.  And  it  is  further 
notified,  for  the  satisfaction  of  all  as 
shall  be  adventurers,  that  the  said  Mr. 
Child  shall  and  will  stand  obliged  to  each 
of  them  for  their  several  adventures.  And 
that  each  adventurer  shall  receive  their 
money  back  if  the  said  lottery  be  not 
drawn  and  finished  before  the  first  day  of 
February  next." — Mr.  Child  was  the  first 
regular  banker  :  he  began  business  soon 
after  the  Restoration,  and  received  the 
honour  of  knighthood.  He  lived  in 
Fleet-street,  where  the  shop  still  continues 
in  a  state  of  the  highest  respectability.  A 
subsequent  notice  says,  "  that  the  king 
will  probably,  tomorrow,  in  the  Banquet- 
ting-house,  see  all  the  blanks  told  over, 


that  they  may  not  exceed  their  number ; 
and  that  the  papers  on  which  the  prizes 
are  to  be  written  shall  be  rolled  up  in  his 
presence;  and  that  a  child,  appointed 
either  by  his  majesty  or  the  adventurers, 
shall  draw  the  prizes.'' — What  would  be 
said  now,  if  his  present  majesty  were  to  be 
employed  in  sorting,  folding,  and  count- 
ing the  blanks  and  prizes  in  the  present 
lottery  ? 

About  1709,  there  was  the  Greenwich 
Hospital  Adventure,  sanctioned  by  an  act 
of  parliament,  which  the  managers  de- 
scribe as  "  liable  to  none  of  the  objections 
made  against  other  lotteries,  a*  to  the  fair- 
ness of  the  drawing,  it  not  being  possible 
there  should  be  any  deceit  in  it,  a*  it  has 
been  suspected  in  others." — Likewise  there 
was  Mr.  Sydenham's  Land  Lottery,  who 
declared  it  was  "  found  very  difficult  and 
troublesome  for  the  adventurers  for  to 
search  and  find  out  what  prizes  they  have 
come  up  in  their  number-tickets,  from  the 
badness  of  the  print,  the  many  errors  in 
them,  and  the  great  quantity  of  prizes." 
— The  Twelve-penny,  or  Nonsuch,  and 
the  Fortunatus  lotteries,  also  flourished  at 
the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury.* 

.LOTTERY  OF  DEER. 

In  May,  1715,  the  proprietors  of  Sion 
gardens  advertised  the  following  singular 
method  of  selling  deer  from  their  park. 
They  appointed  the  afternoons  of  Mon- 
days, Thursdays,  and  Saturdays,  for 
killing  those  animals ;  when  the  pub- 
lic were  admitted  at  one  shilling  each 
to  see  the  operation,  or  they  might 
purchase  tickets  from  four  to  ten  shillings, 
which  entitled  them,  it  is  supposed,  by 
way  of  lottery,  to  different  parts  of  the 
beast, — as  they  say  the  quantity  killed  was 
to  be  divided  into  sixteen  lots,  and  the 
first  choice  to  be  governed  by  the  num- 
bers on  the  tickets :  a  ten  shilling  ticket 
was  entitled  to  a  fillet ;  eight,  a  shoulder ; 
seven,  a  loin,  &c.  If  the  full  price  of  th' 
deer  was  not  received  on  a  given  day,  tlu 
keeper  held  the  money  till  that  sum  was 
obtained.  They  offered  to  sell  whole  deer, 
and  to  purchase  as  many  as  might  be 
offered.f 

HARBURGH  LOTTERY. 

In  1723,  the  resentment  of  the  house 
of  commons  was  directed  against  the 

*  M  r.  Smeeton  in  the  Examiner. 
t  Malcolm, 


1447 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1448 


scheme  of  a  lottery  to  be  drawn  at  Har- 
burgh,  a  town  of  Hanover  on  the  Elbe, 
opposite  Hamburgh,  in  the  king's  German 
dominions.  A  committee  inquired  into 
this  and  other  lotteries  at  that  time  on 
foot  in  London.  The  scheme  pretended 
to  raise  a  subscription  for  maintaining  a 
trade  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
king's  territories  on  the  Elbe.  It  was  a 
mysterious  scene  of  iniquity,  which  the 
committee,  with  all  their  penetration, 
could  not  fully  discover;  but  they  re- 
ported, that  it  was  an  infamous,  fraudu- 
lent undertaking,  whereby  many  unwary 
persons  had  been  drawn  in,  to  their  great 
loss  :  that  the  manner  of  carrying  it  on 
had  been  a  manifest  violation  of  the  laws 
of  the  kingdom :  that  the  managers  and 
agents  of  this  lottery  had,  without  any 
authority,  made  use  of  his  majesty's  royal 
name  to  countenance  the  infamous  pro- 
ject, and  induce  his  majesty's  subjects  to 
engag-e  01  be  concerned  therein.  A  bill 
was  brought  in  to  suppress  this  lottery, 
and  to  oblige  its  managers  to  make  resti- 
tution of  the  money  they  had  received 
from  the  contributors.  At  the  same  time 
the  house  resolved,  That  John  lord  vis- 
count Harrington  had  been  notoriously 
guilty  of  promoting,  abetting,  and  carry- 
ing on  the  fraudulent  undertaking ;  for 
which  offence  he  should  be  expelled  the 
house.* 

BANK  CLERKS'  FINESSE. 
On  the  31st  of  August,  1731,  a  scene 
was  presented  which  strongly  marks  the 
infatuation  and  ignorance  of  lottery  adven- 
turers. The  tickets  for  the  State  Lottery 
were  delivered  out  to  the  subscribers  at  the 
Bank  of  England ;  when  the  crowd  be- 
coming so  great  as  to  obstruct  the  clerks, 
they  told  them,  "  We  deliver  blanks  to- 
day, but  to-morrow  we  shall  deliver 
prizes ;"  upon  which  many,  who  were  by 
no  means  for  blanks,  retired,  and  by  this 
bold  stratagem  the  clerks  obtained  room 
to  proceed  in  their  business.  In  this  lot- 
tery "  her  majesty  presented  his  royal 
highness  the  duke  with  ten  tickets."f 

LOVE,  DEATH,  AND  THE  LOTTERY. 
Early  in  the  reign  of  George  II.,  the 
footman  of  a  lady  of  quality,  under  the 
absurd  infatuation  of  a  dream,  disposed 
of  the  savings  of  the  last  twenty  years  of 
his  life  in  two  lottery  tickets,  which  prov- 

•  Smollett. 

t  Gentiemaw's  Magazine. 


ing  blanks,  after  a  few  melancholy  days, 
he  put  an  end  to  his  life.  In  his  box  was 
found  the  following  plan  of  the  manner 
in  which  he  should  spend  the  five  thousand 
pound  prize,  which  his  mistress  preserve*, 
as  a  curiosity  : — 

"  As  soon  as  I  have  received  thft 
money,  I  will  marry  Grace  Towers  ;  but, 
as  she  has  been  cross  and  coy,  I  will  use 
her  as  a  servant.  Every  morning  she 
shall  get  me  a  mug  of  strong  beer,  with  a 
toast,  nutmeg,  and  sugar  in  it ;  then  I 
will  sleep  till  ten,  after  which  I  will  have 
a  large  sack  posset.  My  dinner  shall  be 
on  table  by  one,  and  never  without  a  good 
pudding.  I  will  have  a  stock  of  wine 
and  brandy  laid  in.  About  five  in  the 
afternoon  I  will  have  tarts  and  jellies,  and 
a  gallon  bowl  of  punch  ;  at  ten,  a  hot  sup- 
per of  two  dishes.  If  I  am  in  a  good- 
humour,  and  Grace  behaves  herself,  she 
shall  sit  down  with  me.  To  bed  about 
twelve."* 

FIELDING'S  FARCE. 

In  1731,  Henry  Fielding  wrote  a  farce 
for  Drury-lane  Theatre,  called  "  The 
Lottery," 'to  which,  in  1732,  he  added  a 
new  scene.  This  pleasant  representation 
of  characters  usually  influenced  to  specu- 
late in  such  schemes,  was  acted  with  con- 
siderable success,  especially  about  the 
time  .when  the  lottery  was  drawn  at 
Guildhall,  and  may  well  be  conceived  as 
calculated  to  abate  the  popular  furor.  It 
opens  with  a  lottery-office  keeper- 
Mr.  Stocks,  alone. 

AIR. 

A  Lottery  is  a  Taxation, 
Upon  all  the  Fools  in  Creation  ; 
And,  Heaven  be  prais'd, 
It  is  easily  rais'd, 
Credulity's  always  in  Fashion  : 
For  Folly's  a  Fund 
Will  never  lose  Ground, 
While  Fools  are  so  rife  in  the  Nation. 

[Knocking  without. 
Enter  1  Buyer. 

1  Buy.   Is  not  this  a  House  where  People 
buy  Lattery  Tickets  ? 

Stoc.  Yes,  Sir — I  believe  I  can  furnish  you 
with  as  good  Tickets  as  any  one. 

1  Buy.  I  suppose,  Sir,  'tis  all  one  to  you 
what  Number  a  Man  fixes  on. 
Stoc.  Any  of  my  Numbers. 
1  Buy.    Because  I  would  be  glad  to  have 
it,  Sir,  the  Number  of  my  own  Years,  or  m$ 
Wife's;   or,  if  I    cou'd    not  have   either  o*. 
those,  I  wou'd  be  glad  to  have  it  the  Nurnbet 
of  my  Mother's, 

•  Lounger'*  Common  Place  Book. 


1449 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1450 


Stoc.  Ay,  or  suppose,  now,  it  was  the  Num- 
ber of  your  Grandmother's  ? 

1  Bu$.  No,  no  !  She  has  no  Luck  in  Lot- 
fcries  :  She  had  a  whole  Ticket  once,  and  got 
bui  fifty  Pounds  by  it. 

Stoc,  A  very  unfortunate  Person,  truly.  Sir, 
my  Clerk  will  furnish  you,  if  you'll  walk  that 

n-ay  up  to  the  office.   Ha,  ha,  ha  1 — There's  one     receiv'd  at  the  Bottom  of  a  Piece  of  Paper,  as 
"0,000/.  got! — What  an  abundance  of  imagin-     any  He's  in  the  Kingdom.     But  if  I  mistake 
try  rich  men  will  one  month  reduce  to  their 
fcrmer  Poverty.     [Knocking  without.]     Come 


Enter  Stocks. 

Stoc.  I  had  the  Honour  of  receiving  your 
Commands,  Madam. 

Chloe.  Sir,  your  humble  Servant — if  our 
Name  is  Mr.  Stocks,  I  suppose. 

Stoc.  So  I  am  call'd  in  the  Alley,  Madam ; 
a  Name,  tho'  I  say  it,  which  wou'd  be  as  weil 


in. 

Enter  2  Buyer. 

2  Buy.  Does  not  your  Worship  let  Horses, 
Sir? 

Stoc.  Ay,  Friend. 

2  Buy.  I  have  got  a  little  Money  by  driv- 
ing a  Hackney-Coach,  and  I  intend  to  ride  it 
out  in  the  Lottery. 

Stoc.  You  are  in  the  right,  it  is  the  way  to 
drive  your  own  Coach. 

2  Buy.  I  don't  know,  Sir,  that  but  I  am 
willing  to  be  in  Fortune's  way,  as  the  saying 
u. 

Stoc.  You  are  a  wise  Man,  and  it  is  not 
impossible  but  you  may  be  a  rich  one — 'tis  not 
above — no  matter,  how  many  to  one,  but  that 
you  are  this  Night  worth  10,000/. 

2  Buy.  An  belike  you,  Sir,  I  wou'd  willing- 
ly ride  upon  the  Number  of  my  Coach. 

Stoc.  Mr.  Trick,  let  that  Gentleman  the 
Number  of  his  Coach — [stside.~\  No  matter 
whether  we  have  it,  or  no. — As  the  Gentle- 
man is  riding  to  a  Castle  in  the  Air,  an  airy 
Horse  is  the  properest  to  carry  him.  [Knock- 
ing hard  without.]  Heyday!  this  is  some 
Person  of  Quality,  by  the  Impudence  of  the 
Footman. 

Enter  Lady. 

Lady.  Your  Servant,  Mr.  Stocks. 

Stoc.  I  am  your  Ladyship's  most  obedient 
Servant. 

Lady.  I  am  come  to  buy  some  Tickets,  and 
hire  some  Horses,  Mr.  Stocks — I  intend  to 
have  twenty  Tickets,  and  ten  Horses  every 
Day. 

Stoc.  By  which,  if  your  Ladyship  has  any 
Luck,  you  may  very  easily  get  30  or  40,000/. 

Lady.  Please  to  look  at  those  Jewels,  Sir — 
they  cost  my  Lord  upwards  of  6000/. — I  in- 
tend to  lay  out  what  you  will  lend  upon  'em. 
[Knocking  without. 

Stoc.  If  your  Ladyship  pleases  to  walk  up 
into  the  Dining- Room,  I'll  wait  on  you  in  a 
Moment. 

[Chloe,  a  lady,  holding  an  undrawn 
Lottery  Ticket,  which,  from  what  a  for- 
tune-teller told  her,  what  she  saw  in  a 
coffee  dish,  and  what  she  dreamt  every 
night,  she  is  confident  would  come  up  a 
vrize  of  ten  thousand  pounds,  desires  to 
consult  Mr.  Stocks  as  to  how  she  should 
lay  out  the  money.] 


not,  Madam,  you  wou'd  be  instructed  how  to 
dispose  of  10,000/. 

Chloe.  I  wou'd  so,  Sir. 

Stoc.  Why,  Madam,  you  know,  at  present, 
Publick  Interest  is  very  low,  and  private  Secu- 
rities very  difficult  to  get — and  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  I  am  afraid  there  are  some  in  the  AUey 
who  are  not  the  honestest  Men  in  the  King- 
dom. In  short,  there  is  one  way  to  dispose  of 
Money  with  Safety  and  Advantage,  and  that  is 
— to  put  it  into  the  Charitable  Corporation. 

Chloe.  The  Charitable  Corporation!  pray 
what  is  that? 

Stoc.  That  is,  Madam,  a  method,  invented 
by  some  very  wise  Men,  by  which  the  Rich 
may  be  charitable  to  the  Poor,  and  be  Money 
in  Pocket  by  it. 

THE  CHARITABLE  CORPORATION. 

This  company,  erected  in  1T07,  pvo- 
fessed  to  lend  money  at  legal  interest  to 
the  poor  upon  small  pledges ;  and  to  per- 
sons of  better  rank  upon  security  of  goods 
impawned.  Their  capital,  at  first  limited 
to  £.30,000,  was  by  licenses  from  the 
crown  increased  to  £600,000,  though 
their  charter  was  never  confirmed  by  act 
of  parliament.  In  1731,  George  Robin- 
son, esquire,  member  for  Marlow,  the 
cashier,  and  John  Thompson,  warehouse- 
keeper  of  the  corporation,  disappeared  in 
one  day.  The  alarmed  proprietors  held 
several  general  courts,  and  appointed  a 
committee  to  inspect  their  affairs,  who 
reported,  that  for  a  capital  of  above 
£500>000  no  equivalent  was  found  ;  in- 
asmuch as  their  effects  did  not  amount  to 
the  value  of  £30,000,  the  remainder  hav- 
ing been  embezzled.  The  proprietors,  in 
a  petition  to  the  house  of  commons,  re- 
presented that,  by  a  notorious  breach  of 
trust,  the  corporation  had  been  defrauded 
of  the  greatest  part  of  their  capital ;  and 
that  many  of  the  petitioners  were  reduced 
to  the  utmost  misery  and  distress : -they 
therefore  prayed  parliament  to  inquire 
into  the  state  of  the  corporation,  and  the 
conduct  of  their  managers,  and  extend 
relief  to  the  petitioners.  On  this  petition 
a  secret  committee  was  appointed,  who 
soon  discovered  a  most  iniquitous  scene 
of  fraud,  perpetrated  by  Robinson  and 


1451 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1452 


Thompson,  in  concert  with  some  of  the 
directors,  for  embezzling  the  capital,  and 
cheating  the  proprietors.  Many  persons 
of  rank  and  quality  were  concerned  in 
this  infamous  conspiracy.  Sir  Robert 
Sutton  and  sir  Archibald  Grant  were  ex- 
pelled the  house  of  commons,  as  having 
had  a  considerable  share  in  those  fraudu- 
lent practices,  and  a  bill  was  brought  in 
to  restrain  them  and  other  delinquents 
from  leaving  the  kingdom,  or  alienating 
their  effects.*  In  1733,  parliament 
granted  a  lottery  in  behalf  of  the  sufferers. 
On  the  1st  of  August  in  that  year,  books 
•were  opened  at  the  bank  to  receive,  from 
those  who  had  given  in  their  names,  the 
first  payment  of  one  pound  per  ticket  in 
the  "  Lottery  for  the  relief  of  the  Charit- 
able Corporation  ;"f  and  in  1734  "  it  was 
distributed  among  them,  amounting  to  nine 
shillings  and  ninepence  in  the  pound  on 
on  their  loss."J 


The  "  London  Journal  "  of  October  30. 
1731,  observing  on  the  general  disposition 
to  adventure  says  : — 

The  natural  life  of  man  is  labour  or 
business ;  riches  is  an  unnatural  state ; 
and  therefore  generally  a  state  of  misery. 
Life,  which  is  a  drug  in  the  hands  of  idle 
men,  never  hangs  heavily  on  the  hands  of 
merchants  and  tradesmen,  who  judiciously 
divide  their  time  between  the  city  and 
country. 

This  is  so  true,  that  a  wise  man  would 
never  leave  his  children  so  much  money 
as  to  put  them  beyond  industry  ;  for  that 
is  too  often  putting  them  beyond  happiness. 
The  heaping  up  riches  for  posterity  is, 
generally  speaking,  heaping  up  destruc- 
tion ;  and  entailing  of  large  estates,  en- 
tailing vice  and  misery. 

These  thoughts  were  occasioned  by  the 
present  state  lottery;  which  plainly  dis- 
covers that  the  people  would  run  into  the 
excesses  of  the  South  Sea  year,  had  they 
the  same  opportunities.  The  spring  and 
source  of  this  unreasonable  passion,  is  the 
luxury  of  the  age.  Tradesmen  commence 
gentlemen  and  men  of  pleasure,  when  they 
should  be  men  of  business;  and  begin 
where  they  should  end.  This  sets  them  a 
madding  after  lotteries  ;  business  is  neg- 
lected, and  poverty,  vice,  and  misery 
ipread  among  the  people.  It  is  hoped 


that  the  Parliament  will  never  come  into 
another  lottery.  All  other  gaming  should 
be  also  discouraged.  Who  but  laments 
that  unfortunate  young  lady  at  the  Bath, 
who  was  ruined  by  gaming,  and  rather 
than  submit  to  a  mean  dependance,  thought 
it  best  to  resign  her  life  ?* 

The  tone  of  dissuasion  from  lotteries 
and  gambling  in  the  year  1731,  prevails 
through  the  writings  of  the  different  per- 
sons who  opposed  such  schemes  and 
practices.  The  story  of  the  "  unfortunate 
young  lady  at  the  Bath,  who  was  ruined 
by  gaming,"  referred  to  in  the  last  para- 
graph, and  already  related  in  this  work, 
is  exceedingly  affecting. 


WESTMINSTER  BRIDGE  LOTTERY. 

In  the  9th  year  of  George  II.  parlia- 
ment passed  an  act  for  building  this  bridge 
by  a  lottery,  and  the  following  scheme 
was  issued  to  the  public : — 

LOTTERY   1736,  for  raising  100000/.  for 
building  a  Bridge  at  Westminster,  consisting 
0/125000  Tickets,  at  bl.  each. 
Prizes   1  —  of  —  20000/.  —  is  —  20000/. 

10000 •  20000 

5000 15000 

3000 30000 

1000 40000 

500 30000 

200 20000 

100 20000 

50 20000 

20 20000 

10 288000 

523000 

1000 
1000 

525000 


30616  Prizes,  amounting  to     — 

94384  Blanks. 

First  Drawn 

Last  Drawn 

125000 


The  Prizes  to  be  paid  at  the  Bank  in  40  Days 
after  Drawing,  without  Deduction.  N.B.  There 
is  little  more  than  Three  Blanks  to  a  Prize.f 

Parliament  granted  successive  lotteries 
for  the  building  and  completion  of  West. 
minster-bridge. 

AN  ORGAN  LOTTERY. 

In  1737,  Horace  Walpole  (Lord  Or- 
ford)  says,  "  I  am  now  in  pursuit  of 


*  Smollett. 

f  Gentleman'*  Magaiinc, 

j  Anderson. 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1731. 
t  Gentleman'*  Magazine. 


U53 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1454 


getting  the  finest  piece  of  music  that  ever 
was  heard ;  it  is  a  thing  that  will  play 
eight  tunes.  Handel  and  all  the  great 
musicians  say,  that  it  is  beyond  any  thing 
they  can  do  ;  and  this  may  be  performed 
by  the  most  ignorant  person  ;  and  when 
you  are  weary  of  those  eight  tunes,  you 
may  have  them  changed  for  any  other  that 
you  like.  This  I  think  much  better  than 
going  to  an  Italian  opera,  or  an  assembly. 
This  performance  has  been  lately  put  into 
a  Lottery,  and  all  the  royal  family  chose 
to  have  a  great  many  tickets,  rather  than 
to  buy  it,  the  price  being  I  think  1000/., 
infinitely  a  less  sum  than  some  bishopricks 
have  been  sold  for.  And  a  gentleman 
won  it,  who  I  am  in  hopes  will  sell  it,  and 
if  he  will,  I  will  buy  it,  for  I  cannot  live 
to  have  another  made,  and  I  will  carry  it 
into  the  country  with  me." 


In  the  State  Lottery  of  1 739,  tickets, 
chances,  and  shares  were  "  bought  and 
sold  by  Richard  Shergold,  printer  to  the 
honourable  the  commissioners  of  the  Lot- 
tery, at  his  office  at  the  Union  Coffee-house 
over  and  against  the  Royal  Exchange, 
Cornhill."  He  advertised,  that  he  kept 
numerical  books  during  the  drawing,  and 
a  book  wherein  buyers  might  register 
their  numbers  at  sixpence  each ;  that  1 5 
percent.was  to  be  deducted  out  of  the  prizes, 
which  were  to  be  paid  at  the  bank  in  fifty 
days  after  the  drawing  was  finished ;  and 
that  "  schemes  in  French  and  English" 
were  given  gratis."* 

The  per  centage  to  be  deducted  from 
the  prizes  in  this  lottery  occasioned  the 
following 

EPIGRAM. 

This  lottery  can  never  thrive, 
Was  broker  heard  to  say, 

For  who  but  fools  will  ever  give 
Fifteen  per  cent  to  play. 

A  sage,  with  his  accustomed  grin, 
Replies,  I'll  stake  my  doom, 

That  if  but  half  the  fools  come  in 
The  wise  will  find  no  room.f 


LOTTERY  AT  STATIONERS'  HALL. 

On  the  23d  of  November,  1741,  "  the 
drawing  of  the  Bridge  Lottery  began  at 
Stationers'  Hall. — The  Craftsman  of  the 
28th  says,  that  every  100,000/.  laid  out  in 


a  lottery  puts  a  stop  to  the  circulation  of 
at  least  300,000/.,  and  occasions  almost 
a  total  suppression  of  trade."* 

In  June,  1743,  "  the  price  of  lottery 
tickets  having  risen  from  IOL  to  ll/.  10*. 
some  persons,  who  probably  wanted  to 
purchase,  published  a  hint  to  the  unwary 
adventurers,  that  they  gamed  at  50  per 
cent,  loss  ;  paying,  at  that  price,  2*.  6d  to 
play  for  Ls. ;  the  money  played  for  being 
only  three  pound,  besides  discount  and 
deductions."t 

TICKET  STUCK  IN  THE  WHEEL. 

On  the  5th  of  January,  1774,  at  the 
conclusion  of  drawing  the  State  Lottery  at 
Guildhall,  No.  11,053,  as  the  last  drawn 
ticket,  was  declared  to  be  entitled  to  the 
1000/.,  and  was  so  printed  in  the  paper 
of  benefits  by  order  of  the  commissioners. 
It  was  besides  a  prize  of  100J.  But  after 
the  wheels  were  carried  back  to  White- 
hall and  there  opened,  the  ticket  No. 
72,248  was  found  sticking  in  a  crevice  of 
the  wheel.  And,  being  the  next  drawn 
ticket  after  all  the  prizes  were  drawn,  was 
advertised  by  the  commissioners'  order  as 
entitled  to  the  1000/.,  as  the  last  drawn 
ticket :  "  which  affair  made  a  great  deal 
of  noise."J 

A  PEER'S  SUBSTITUTE  FOR  .LOTTERIES. 

On  the  bill,  for  a  lottery  to  succeed  the 
preceding,  being  brought  into  the  house 
of  lords,  a  peer  said,  that  such  measures 
always  were  censured  by  those  that 
saw  their  nature  and  their  tendency. 
"  They  have  been  considered  as  legal 
cheats,  by  which  the  ignorant  and  the 
rash  are  defrauded,  and  the  subtle  and 
avaricious  often  enriched.  They  have 
been  allowed  to  divert  the  people  from 
trade,  and  to  alienate  them  from  useful 
industry.  A  man  who  is  uneasy  in  his 
circumstances,  and  idle  in  his  disposition, 
collects  the  remains  of  his  fortune,  and 
buys  tickets  in  a  lottery,  retires  from 
business,  indulges  himself  in  laziness, 
and  waits,  in  some  obscure  place,  the 
event  of  his  adventure.  Another,  instead 
of  employing  his  stock  in  a  shop  or  a 
warehouse,  rents  a  garret  in  a  private 
street,  and  make  it  his  business,  by  false 


*  Gentleman's  Maeazine,  1739. 
t  The  Champion,  January  10,  1740. 


*  Gentleman'!  Magazine. 

t  Mainland.    Gentleman's  Magtxin*. 


1455 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1456 


intelligence,  and  chimerical  alarms,  to 
raise  and  sink  the  price  of  tickets  alter- 
nately, and  takes  advantage  of  the  lies 
which  he  has  himself  invented.  If  I,  my 
lords,  might  presume  to  recommend  to 
our  ministers  the  most  probable  method 
of  raising  a  large  sum  for  the  payment  of 
the  troops  of  the  electorate,  I  should,  in- 
stead of  the  tax  and  lottery  now  proposed, 
advise  them  to  establish  a  certain  number 
of  licensed  wheel-barrows,  on  which  the 
laudable  trade  of  thimble  and  button  might 
be  carried  on  for  the  support  of  the  war, 
and  shoe-boys  might  contribute  to  the 
defence  of  the  house  of  Austria,  by  raffling 
for  apples.' 


CHANCES  OF  TICKETS. 

The  State  Lottery  of  1751  seems  to 
have  encountered  considerable  opposition. 
There  is  a  discouraging  notice  in  the 
"  Gentleman's  Magazine"  on  the  4th  of 
July  in  that  year,  that  "  those  inclined  to 
become  adventurers  in  the  present  lottery 
were  cautioned  in  the  papers  to  wait 
some  time  before  they  purchased  tickets, 
whereby  the  jobbers  would  be  disap- 
pointed of  their  market,  and  obliged  to 
sell  at  a  lower  price.  At  the  present  rate 
of  tickets  the  adventurer  plays  at  35  per 
cent,  loss." 

In  the  next  month,  August,  the  "  Lon- 
don Magazine"  exhibited  the  following 
computation. 


IN  THE  LOTTERY  1751,  IT  IS 


69998  to           2  or  34999  to  1  against  a  £10000  prize. 

69994  to           6  or  11665  to 

against  a 

5000  or  upwards. 

69989  to         11  or     6363  to 

against  a 

3000 

69981    to         19  or     3683  to 

against  a 

2000 

69961   to         39  or     1794  to 

against  a 

1000 

69920  to         80  or       874  to 

against  a 

500 

69720  to       280  or       249  to 

against  a 

100 

69300  to       700  or         99  to 

against  a 

50 

60000  to  10000  or           6  to 

against  a 

20  or  any  prize. 

The  writer  says,  I  would  beg  the  favour 
of  all  gentlemen,  tradesmen,  and  others, 
to  take  the  pains  to  explain  to  such  as 
any  way  depend  upon  their  judgment, 
that  one  must  buy  no  less  than  seven 
tickets  to  have  an  even  chance  for  any 
prize  at  all ;  that  with  only  one  ticket,  it 
is  six  to  one,  and  with  half  a  ticket,  twelve 
to  one  against  any  prize;  and  ninety-nine 
or  a  hundred  to  one  that  the  prize,  if  it 
comes,  will  not  be  above  fifty  pounds ; 
and  no  less  than  thirty-five  thousand  to 
one  that  the  owner  of  a  single  ticket  will 
not  obtain  one  of  the  greatest  prizes.  No 
lottery  is  proper  for  persons  of  very  small 
fortunes,  to  whom  the  loss  of  five  or  six 
pounds  is  of  great  consequence,  besides 
the  disturbance  of  their  minds ;  much 
less  is  it  advisable  or  desirable  for  either 
poor  or  rich  to  contribute  to  the  exorbi- 
tant tax  of  more  than  two  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds,  which  the  first  engrossers  of 
lottery  tickets,  and  the  brokers  and  dealers 
strive  to  raise,  out  of  the  pockets  of  the 
poor  chiefly,  and  the  silly  rich  partly,  by 
artfully  enhancing  the  price  of  tickets 
above  the  original  cost. 

The  prices  of  tickets  in  this  lottery  was 
ten  pounds.  On  their  rise  a  Mr.  Holland 
publicly  offered  to  lay  four  hundred  gui- 


neas, that  four  hundred  tickets,  when 
drawn,  did  not  amount  to  nine  pounds 
fifteen  shillings  on  an  average,  prizes  and 
blanks;  his  advertisement  was  never 
answered. 

These  animadversions  on  the  scheme, 
and  the  resistance  offered  to  the  endeavours 
of  the  brokers  and  dealers  to  effect  a  rise 
in  the  price  of  tickets,  appear,  from  the 
following  lines  published  in  October,  to 
have  been  to  a  certain  degree  successful — 

A  NEW  SONG 

From  'Change-alley,  occasioned  by  a  stag- 
nation of  the  sale  of  Lottery  Tickets. 

While   guineas  were  plenty,  we  thought  we 

might  rise, 

Nor  dreamt  of  a  magpye  to  pick  out  our  eyes ; 
Twas  twelve  would  have  satisfied  all  our 

desire, 
Tho*  perhaps  without  pain  we  might  see  them 

mount  higher. 

Deny  down,  down,  down  derry,  &c. 

How  sweet  were  the  pickings  we   formerly 

gain'd, 
From  whence  our  fine  daughters  their  fortunes 

obtain'd ! 
In  our  coaches  can   roll,  at  the  public  can 

smile, 

Whose  follies  reward  all  our  labour  and  toil. 
Derry  down,  &c. 


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THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1458 


let  them  spin  out  their  fine  scheme  as 

they  will, 

No  horseshoe  nor  magpye  shall  baffle  OUT  skill ; 

In  triumph  we'll  ride,  and,  in  spite  of  the  rout, 

Our  point  we'll  obtain  without  wheeling  about. 

Derry  down,  &c. 

Tho'  sturdy  these  beggars,  yet  weak  are  their 

brains ; 
Who  offer  to  check  us,  nr.ust  smart  for  their 

pains ; 

In  concert  united,  we'll  laugh  at  the  tribe, 
Who  play  off  their  engines  to  damp  all  our 

pride. 

Derry  down,  &c. 

Let  Holland  no  longer  appear  with  his  brags, 
His  four  hundred  guineas  keep  safe  in  his  bags, 
Nor  think  we're  such  fools  to  risque  any  thing 

down, 
By  way  of  a  wager  to  humour  the  town. 

Derry  down,  &c.* 

On  the  llth  of  the  next  month,  Novem- 
ber, the  drawing  of  the  State  Lottery  began, 
when,  notwithstanding  the  united  efforts 
of  several  societies  and  public-spirited 
gentlemen  to  che'ck  the  exorbitancy  of 
the  ticket-mongers,  the  price  rose  to  six- 
teen guineas  just  before  drawing.  All 
means  were  tried  to  cure  this  infatuation 
by  writing  and  advertising;  particularly 
on  the  first  day  of  drawing,  it  was  publicly 
averred,  that  near  eight  thousand  tickets 
were  in  the  South  Sea  House,  and  upwards 
of  thirty  thousand  pawned  at  bankers,  &c. 
that  nine  out  of  ten  of  the  ticket-holders 
were  not  able  to  go  into  the  wheel ;  and 
that  not  one  of  them  durst  stand  the 
drawing  above  six  days.  It  was  also 
demonstrated  in  the  clearest  manner,  that 
to  have  an  even  chance  for  any  prize  a 
person  must  have  seven  tickets;  that 
with  only  one  ticket  it  was  six  to  one ; 
and  ninety-nine  to  one  that  the  prize,  if 
it  came,  would  not  be  above  fifty  pounds, 
and  no  less  than  thirty-five  thousand  to 
one  that  the  owner  of  a  single  ticket 
would  not  obtain  one  of  the  greatest 
prizes. — Yet,  notwithstanding  these  and 
other  precautions,  people  still  suffered 
themselves  to  be  deluded,  and  the  mo- 
nied  men  arrogantly  triumphed.-f 

A  LOTTERY  JOB  IN  IRELAND. 

In  August,  1752,  a  lottery  was  set  on 
foot  at  Dublin,  under  the  pretext  of  rais- 
ing 13,700/.  for  rebuilding  Essex-bridge, 
and  other  public  and  charitable  uses. 

•  Universal  Magazine.  »    • 

f-  Gentleman's  Magazine, 


There  were  to  be  1 00,000  tickets,  at  a 
guinea  each.  The  lords  justices  of  Ireland 
issued  an  order  to  suppress  this  lottery. 
The  measure  occasioned  a  great  uproar 
in  Dublin ;  for  it  appears,  that  the  tickets 
bore  a  premium,  and  that  though  the 
original  subscribers  were  to  have  their 
money  returned,  the  buyers  at  the  ad- 
vanced price  would  lose  the  advance. 
Every  purchaser  of  a  single  ticket  in  this 
illegal  lottery  incurred  a  penalty  of  50/. 
for  each  offence,  and  the  seller  500J.,  one 
third  of  which  went  to  the  informer,  a 
third  to  the  king,  and  the  other  third  to 
the  poor  of  the  parish  ;  besides  which,  the 
offenders  were  subject  to  a  year's  close 
imprisonment  in  the  county  gaol.* 

LEHEUP'S  FRAUD. 

To  prevent  the  monopoly  of  tickets  in 
the  State  Lottery,  it  had  been  enacted,  that 
persons  charged  with  the  delivery  of 
tickets  should  not  sell  more  than  twenty 
to  one  person.  This  provision  was  evaded 
by  pretended  lists,  which  defeated  the 
object  of  parliament  and  injured  public 
credit,  insomuch  that,  in  1754,  more 
tickets  were  subscribed  for  than  the  hold- 
ers of  the  lists  had  cash  to  purchase,  and 
there  was  a  deficiency  in  the  first  pay- 
ment. The  mischief  and  notoriety  of 
these  practices  occasioned  the  house  of 
commons  to  prosecute  an  inquiry  into  the 
circumstances,  which,  though  opposed  by 
a  scandalous  cabal,  who  endeavoured  to 
screen  the  delinquents,  ended  in  a  report 
by  the  committee,  that  Peter  Leheup,  esq. 
had  privately  disposed  of  a  great  number 
of  tickets  before  the  office  was  opened  to 
which  the  public  were  directed  by  an  ad- 
vertisement to  apply;  that  he  also  de- 
livered great  numbers  to  particular  per- 
sons, upon  lists  of  names  which  he  knew 
to  be  fictitious ;  and  that,  in  particular, 
Sampson  Gideon  became  proprietor  of 
more  than  six  thousand,  which  he  sold  at 
a  premium.  Upon  report  of  these  and 
other  illegal  acts,  the  house  resolved  that 
Leheup  was  guilty  of  a  violation  of  the 
act,  and  a  breach  of  trust,  and  presented 
an  address  to  his  majesty,  praying  that 
he  would  direct  the  attorney-general  to 
prosecute  him  in  the  most  effectual  manner 
for  his  offences. 

An  information  was  accordingly  filed, 
and,  on  a  trial  at  bar  in  the  court  of  king's 
bench,  Leheup,  as  one  of  the  receivers  of 
the  last  lottery  of  300,000/.,  was  found 

*  (Gentleman's  Magazine. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1460 


guilty:  1.  Of  receiving  subscriptions  be- 
fore the  day  and  hour  advertised;  2. 
Of  permitting  the  subscribers  to  use  dif- 
ferent names  to  cover  an  excess  of  twenty 
tickets;  and  3.  Of  disposing  of  the  tickets 
which  had  been  bespoke  and  not  claimed, 
or  were  double  charged,  instead  of  re- 
turning them  to  the  managers.  In  Trinity 
term,  Leheup  was  brought  up  for  judg- 
ment, and  fined  1000/.,  which  he  paid  in 
court.  As  he  had  amassed  forty  times 
that  sum  by  his  frauds,  the  lenity  of  the 
sentence  was  the  subject  of  severe  re- 
mark.* 

LOTTERY  INSANITY. 

November  5, 1757,  Mr.  Keys,  late  clerk 
to  Cotton  and  Co.,  who  had  absented 
himself  ever  since  the  7th  of  October,  the 
day  the  1 0,OOOJ.  was  drawn  in  the  lottery, 
(supposed  to  be  his  property,)  was  found 
in  the  streets  raving  mad,  having  been 
robbed  of  his  pocket-book  and  ticket.f 


The    subjoined    verses    appeared    in 
1761-.J— 

A  few  Thoughts  on  Lotteries. 

A  Lottery,  like  a  magic  spell, 

AH  ranks  of  men  bewitches, 
Whose  beating  bosoms  vainly  swell 

With  hopes  of  sudden  riches : 

With  hope  to  gain  TFN  THOUSAND  POUND 

How  many  post  to  ruin, 
And  for  an  empty,  airy  sound 

Contrive  their  own  undoing  ! 

Those  on  whom  wealtn  her  stores  had  shed, 
May  firmly  bear  their  crosses  ; 

But  they  who  earn  their  d  lily  bread, 
Oft  sink  beneath  their  losses. 

'Tis  strange,  so  many  fools  we  find, 

By  tickets  thus  deluded, 
And,  by  a  trifling  turn  of  mind, 

From  life's  blest  bliss  excluded. 

For  life's  best  blessing,  calm  content, 
Attends  no  more  his  slumbers, 

Who  dreams  of  profit,  cent,  per  cent. 
And  sets  his  heart  on  numbers. 

Thro'  all  life's  various  stages,  care 

Our  peace  will  oft  disquiet ; 
Like  a  free-gift  it  comes,  we  ne'er 

Need  be  in  haste  to  buy  it. 


He  who,  intent  on  shadowy  schemes, 
By  them  is  deeply  bubbled, 

Deserves  to  wake  from  golden  dreams, 
With  disappointment  doubled. 

Unmoved  by  Fortune's  fickle  wheel, 
The  wise  man  chance  despises  ; 

And  Prudence  courts  with  fervent  zeal- 
She  gives  the  highest  prizes. 


*  Smollett.    Gentleman's  Magazine. 

t  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

t  In  the  Universal  Magazine  for  December. 


LARGE  DIVISION  OF  TICKETS. 

In  some  of  the  old  lotteries  tickets 
were  divided  into  a  much  greater  number 
of  shares  than  of  late  years.  There  is  an 
example  of  this  in  the  following 

Advertisement,  November,  1766. 
DAME  FORTUNE  presents  her  respects 
to  the  public,  and  assures  them  that  she 
has  fixed  her  residence  for  the  present  at 
CORBETT'S,  State  Lottery- office,  opposite 
St.  Dunstan's-church,  Fleet-street;  and, 
to  enable  many  families  to  partake  of  her 
favours,  she  has  ordered  not  only  the  tic- 
kets to  be  sold  at  the  lowest  prices,  but 
also  that  they  be  divided  into  shares  at 
the  following  low  rates,  viz  : — 

£    ».  d. 

A  sixty- fourth  ..040 
Thirty-second  ..076 
Sixteenth  ....  0  15  0 
An  eighth  ....  1  10  0 
A  Fourth  ....  3  00 

A  half 600 

By  which  may  be  gained  from  upwards 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  upwards  of 
five  thousand  guineas,  at  her  said  office 
No.  30. 


A  NUMBER  TWICE  SOLD. 

The  lottery  of  1766  was  unfortunate 
to  a  lottery-office  keeper.  The  ticket  No. 
20,99  was  purchased  in  the  alley  for  Pagen 
Hale,  esq.  of  Hertfordshire ;  and  the  same 
number  was  also  divided  into  shares  at 
a  lottery-office  near  Charing-cross,  and 
some  of  the  shares  actually  sold.  The 
number  purchased  in  the  alley  was  the 
real  number,  but  that  divided  by  the  office- 
keeper  was  done  by  mistake,  for  which 
he  paid  a  proportionable  sum. 


During  the  lottery  of  1767,  the  stock- 
brokers fell  among  thieves.  Mr.  Hugnes, 
a  stock-broker,  had  his  pocket  picked  in 
Jonathan's  coffee-house  of  fifty  lottery 
tickets,  the  value  of  which  (at  the  price 
then  sold)  was  800/.  The  same  evening 


1461 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1462 


three  other  brokers  had  their  pockets 
picked  of  their  purses,  one  containing 
sixty-two  guineas,  another  seven,  and  the 
third  five.  One  of  the  pick-pockets  was 
afterwards  apprehended,  on  whom  thirty- 
five  of  the  tickets  were  found,  and  recover- 
ed ;  the  other  fifteen  he  said  were  carried 
to  Holland  by  his  accomplices. 

The  preceding  anecdotes  a*e  in  the 
newspapers  of  the  time,  together  with  the 
following,  which  strongly  marks  the  per- 
version of  a  weak  mind.  "  A  gentlewoman 
in  Holborn,  whose  husband  had  pre- 
sented her  with  a  ticket,  put  up  prayers 
in  the  church,  the  day  before  drawing,  in 
the  following  manner  :  The  prayers  of  the 
congregation  are  desired  for  the  success  q, 
a  person  engaged  in  a  new  undertaking" 

A  FRAUDULENT  INSURER. 

In  January,  1768,  an  insurer  of  tickets 
was  summoned  before  a  magistrate,  for 
refusing  to  pay  thirty  guineas  to  an  ad- 
venturer, upon  the  coming  up  of  a  certain 
number  a  blank,  for  which  he  had  paid 
a  premium  of  three  guineas.  The  insurer 
was  ordered  immediately  to  pay  thirty 
guineas,  which  he  was  obliged  to  comply 
with  to  prevent  worse  consequences.*  In 
other  words,  the  magistrate  was  too  weak 
to  exert  the  power  he  was  armed  with, 
by  law,  against  both  the  insurer  and  the 
insured. 

LOVE  TICKETS. 

Mr.  Charles  Holland,  the  actor,  who 
died  on  the  7th  of  December,  1769,  re- 
ceived many  letters  of  passionate  admira- 
tion from  a  lady  who  fell  in  love  with 
him  from  his  appearance  on  the  stage; 
and  she  accompanied  one  of  her  declara- 
tions of  attachment  by  four  lottery  tickets 
as  a  present.-f- 

GOOD  AND  ILL  LUCK. 

In  the  lottery  of  1770,  the  holder  of  the 
ticket  entitled  to  the  capital  prize  or 
20,OOOZ.  was  captain  Towry  of  Isle  worth. 
A  very  remarkable  circumstance  put  it 
in  his  possession:  Mr.  Barnes,  a  grocer 
in  Cheapside,  purchased  four  following 
numbers,  <me  of  which  this  was;  but 
thinking  the  chance  not  so  great  in  so 


many  following  ones,  he  carried  this  very 
ticket  back  to  the  office,  and  changed  it 
for  another. 

A  LITTLE  Go. 

October  14,  1770,  a  case  was  deter- 
mined at  the  general  quarter  session  of 
the  peace  for  the  county  of  Wilts,  held 
at  Marlborough.  A  quack  doctor  had 
been  convicted  before  Thomas  Johnson, 
esq.  of  Bradford,  in  the  penalty  of  200J. 
for  disposing  of  plate,  &c.  by  means  of  a 
device  or  lottery ;  and  by  a  second  infor- 
mation convicted  of  the  same  offence 
before  Joseph  Mortimer,  esq.  of  Trow- 
bridge.  To  both  these  convictions  he 
appealed  to  the  justices  at  the  general 
quarter  session  of  the  peace,  when,  after 
a  trial  of  near  ten  hours,  the  bench  una- 
nimously confirmed  the  conviction  on  both 
informations,  by  which  the  appellant  was 
subjected  to  the  penalties  of  200J.  on  each, 
and  costs.* 

INSURANCE  CAUSE. 

On  the  1st  of  March,  1773,  a  cause  of 
great  public  concern  came  on  to  be  tried 
before  lord  Mansfield,  at  Guildhall, 
wherein  the  lord  mayor  was  plaintiff,  and 
Messrs.  Barnes  and  Golightly  were  de- 
fendants, in  order  to  determine  the  legality 
of  insuring  lottery  tickets ;  but  on  account 
of  an  error  in  the  declaration  the  plaintiff 
was  nonsuited. 

On  the  17th  of  the  same  month,  "  Mr. 
Sheriff  Lewes  presented  a  petition  from 
the  city  of  London,  against  the  frequent 
toleration  of  lotteries  in  the  time  of  peace ; 
but  the  petition  was  ordered  to  lie  upon 
the  table. — No  government  can  long  sub- 
sist, that  is  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
supporting  itself  by  fraudulent  gaming."f 

TRICKS  OF  AN  INSURER. 

June  26,  1775,  a  cause  came  on  in 
the  court  of  common  pleas,  Guildhall, 
between  a  gentleman,  plaintiff,  and  a 
lottery-office  keeper  of  this  city,  defend- 
ant; the  cause  of  this  action  was  as 
follows :  the  gentleman,  passing  by  the 
lottery-office,  observed  a  woman  and  boy 
crying,  on  which  he  asked  the  reason  of 
their  tears  ;  they  informed  him,  that  they 
had  insured  a  number  in  the  lottery  on 


•  Universal  Magazine. 

t  Memoir  of  Holland  in  Universal  Magazine. 


•  Gentleman  •  Magazine. 


t  Ibid. 


1463 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1454 


the  over  night,  and,  upon  inquiry  at  an- 
other office,  found  it  to  have  been  drawn 
five  days  before,  and  therefore  wanted 
their  money  returned;  the  gentleman, 
taking  their  part,  was  assaulted  and  beat 
by  the  office-keeper,  for  which  the  jury 
gave  a  verdict  in  favour  of  the  gentleman 
with  five  pounds  damages.* 


PROCEEDINGS  RESPECTING  A  BLUE-COAT 
BOY. 

In  1775,  some  of  the  boys  of  Christ's 
Hospital,  appointed  to  draw  numbers  and 
chances  from  the  wheel,  were  tampered 
with,  for  the  purpose  of  inducing  them  to 
commit  a  fraud.  These  attempts  were 
successful  in  one  instance,  and  led  to 
certain  regulations,  which  will  presently 
be  stated. 

On  the  1st  of  June,  a  man  was  carried 
before  the  lord  mayor  for  attempting  to 
bribe  the  two  blue-coat  boys  who  drew 
the  Museum  Lottery  at  Guildhall  to 
conceal  a  ticket,  and  to  bring  it  to  him, 
promising  that  he  would  next  day  return 
it  to  them.  His  intention  was  to  insure 
it  in  all  the  offices,  with  a  view  to  defraud 
the  office-keepers.  The  boys  were  honest, 
gave  notice  of  the  intended  fraud,  and 
pointed  out  the  delinquent,  who,  however, 
was  discharged,  as  there  existed  no  law 
to  punish  the  offence. 

On  the  5th  of  December,  one  of  the 
blue-coat  boys  who  drew  the  numbers  in 
the  State  Lottery  at  Guildhall  was  exa- 
mined before  sir  Charles  Asgill,  relative 
to  a  number  that  had  been  drawn  out  the 
Friday  before,  on  which  an  insurance  had 
been  made  in  almost  every  office  in  Lon- 
don. The  boy  confessed,  that  he  was 
prevailed  upon  to  conceal  the  ticket  No. 
21,481,  by  a  man  who  gave  him  money 
for  so  doing;  that  the  man  copied  the 
number;  and  that  the  next  day  he  followed 
the  man's  instructions,  and  put  his  hand 
into  the  wheel  as  usual,  with  the  ticket 
in  it,  and  then  pretended  to  draw  it  out 
The  instigator  of  the  offence  had  actually 
received  400/.  of  the  insurance-office 
keepers  ;  had  all  of  them  paid  him,  the 
whole  sum  would  have  amounted  to  3000/. 
but  some  of  them  suspected  a  fraud  had 
been  committed,  and  caused  the  inquiry, 
which  obtained  the  boy '3  confession. 

On  the  following  day,  the  person  who 
insured  the  ticket  was  examined.  He  was 
clerk  to  a  hop-factor  in  Goodman 's-fields, 


but  not  being  the  person  who  seduced 
the  boy  to  secrete  the  ticket,  and  no  evi- 
dence appearing  to  prove  his  connection 
with  the  person  who  did,  the  prisoner 
was  discharged,  though  it  was  ascertained 
that  he  had  insured  the  number  already 
mentioned  ninety-one  times  in  one  day.* 
In  consequence  of  the  circumstances 
discovered  by  this  examination,  the  lords 
of  the  treasury  inquired  further,  and 
deliberated  on  the  means  of  preventing 
similar  practices  ;  the  result  of  their  con- 
ferences was  the  following  "  Orders," 
which  are  extracted  from  the  original  mi- 
nutes of  the  proceedings,  and  are  now  for 
the  first  time  published. 

COPY,  No.  I. 

ORDER  of  December  12,  1775. 
A  DISCOVERY  having  been  made,  that 
Wi  LLI AM  TRAMPLET,  one  of  the  boys  em- 
ployed in  drawing  the  lottery,  had,  at  the 
instigation  of  one  CHARLES  LOWNDES, 
(since  p.bsccnded,)  at  different  times,  in 
former  rolls  taken  out  of  the  number  wheel 
THREE  numbered  tickets,  which  were  at 
THREE  several  times  returned  by  him  into 
the  said  wheel,  and  drawn  without  his 
parting  with  them,  so  as  to  give  them  the 
appearance  of  being  fairly  drawn,  to 
answer  the  purpose  of  defrauding  by 
insurance : 

IT  is  THEREFORE  ORDERED,  for  prevent- 
ing the  like  wicked  practices  in  future, 
that  every  boy  before  he  is  suffered  to  put 
his  hand  into  either  wheel,  be  brought  by 
the  proclaimer  to  the  managers  on  duty, 
for  them  to  see  that  the  bosoms  and  sleeves 
of  his  coat  be  closely  buttoned,  his  pockets 
sewed  up,  and  his  hands  examined ;  and 
that  durftig  the  time  of  his  being  on  duty, 
he  shall  keep  his  left  hand  in  his  girdle  be- 
hind him,  and  his  right  hand  open,  with 
his  fingers  extended  ;  and  the  proclaimer 
is  not  to  suffer  him  at  any  time  to  leave 
the  wheel  without  being  first  examined 
by  the  manager  nearest  him. 

The  observance  of  the  foregoing  order 
is  recommended  by  the  managers  on  this 
roll  to  those  on  the  succeeding  rolls,  till 
the  matter  shall  be  more  fully  discussed  at 
a  general  meeting. 

COPY,  No.  II. 

ORDER  at  GENERAL  MEETING. 

A  PLAN  OF  RULES  AND  REGULATION* 
to  be  observed,  m  order  to  prevet. 
the  boys  committing  frauds,  &c.,  U 


*  Universal  Magazine. 


*  Gentleman'*  Magazine. 


146.5 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


14C6 


the  drawing  of  the  lottery,  agreeable 
to  directions  received  by  Mr.  JOHN- 
SON, on  Tuesday  the  16th  of  January, 
1776,  from  the  LORDS  OF  THE 

TREASURY. 

THAT  ten  managers  be  always  on  the 
roll  at  Guildhall,  two  of  whom  are  to  be 
conveniently  placed  opposite  the  two  boys 
at  the  wheels,  in  order  to  observe  that  they 
strictly  conform  themselves  to  the  rules 
and  orders  directed  by  the  committee  at 
Guildhall,  on  Tuesday,  December  12, 
1775. 

THAT  it  be  requested  of  the  TREASURER 
OF  CHRIST'S  HOSPITAL  not  to  make  known 
who  are  the  tivelve  boys  nominated  for 
drawing  the  lottery  till  the  morning  the 
draioing  begins  ;  which  said  boys  are  all 
to  attend  every  day,  and  the  ttvo  who  are 
to  go  on  duty  at  the  tvheels  are  to  be  taken 
promiscuously  from  amongst  the  whole 
number  by  either  of  the  secretaries,  with- 
out observing  any  regular  course  or  order  ; 
so  that  no  boy  shall  know  when  it  will  be 
his  turn  to  go  to  either  wheel. 

THIS  METHOD,  though  attended  with 
considerable  additional  expense,  by  the 
extra  attendance  of  two  managers  and 
six  boys,  will,  it  is  presumed,  effectually 
prevent  any  attempt  being  made  to  cor- 
rupt or  bribe  any  of  the  boys  to  commit 
the  fraud  practised  in  the  last  lottery. 


It  is  imagined,  that  to  future  inquirers 
concerning  lotteries,  with  a  view  to  its 
history,  the  publication  of  the  preceding 
documents  may  be  acceptable.  So  long  a 
time  has  elapsed  since  the  fraud  they  re- 
late to  was  perpetrated,  that  any  motive 
which  existed  for  keeping  them  private 
has  ceased.  The  blue-coat  boy  who  se- 
cretly abstracted  the  tickets  from  the 
wheel,  and  afterwards  appeared  to  draw 
them  fairly  and  openly,  will  be  regarded 
as  having  been  pitiably  exposed  to  seduc- 
tions, which  might  have  been  prevented  if 
these  regulations  had  been  adopted  on  the 
complaint  of  the  lad  who  was  tampered 
with  in  June.  Perhaps  it  was  prudent, 
though  not  "  quite  correct,"  to  conceal 
that  three  tickets  had  been  improperly 
taken  from  the  wheel :  until  now,  it  has 
not  been  publicly  made  known  that  there 
•was  more  than  one  ;  and  though,  if  the 
point  had  been  tried,  that  one  might  have 
been  sufficient  to  have  vitiated  the  legality 
of  the  drawing  of  the  lottery  of  1 775  al- 
together, it  was  not  enough,  in  a  popular 
view,  to  raise  a  hue-and-cry  among  the 


unfortunate  holders  against  the  distur- 
bance of  their  chances.  The  concealment 
of  three  might  have  congregated  the  un- 
successful adventurers  of  the  three  king- 
doms into  an  uproar,  "  one  and  indivisi- 
ble," which,  with  the  law  on  their  side, 
would  have  exceedingly  puzzled  the  then 
lords  of  the  treasury  to  subdue,  without 
ordering  the  lottery  to  have  been  drawn 
over  again,  and  raising  a  fresh  clamour 
among  the  holders  of  tickets  that  had  been 
declared  prizes. 

LOTTERY  SUICIDE. 

On  the  10th  of  January,  1777,  "  a 
young  man,  cl-erk  to  a  merchant  in  the 
city,  was  found  in  the  river  below  bridge 
drowned :  he  had  been  dabbling  in  the 
lottery  with  his  master's  money,  and  chose 
this  way  of  settling  his  accounts."* 


A  BLANK  MADE  A  PRIZE. 

In  January,  1777,  Joseph  Arones  and 
Samuel  Noah,  two  jews,  were  examined 
atGuildhall  before  the  lord  mayor,  charged 
with  counterfeiting  the  lottery  ticket  No. 
25,590,  a  prize  of  2000/.,  with  intent  to 
defraud  Mr.  Keyser,  an  office-keeper, 
knowing  the  same  to  have  been  false  and 
counterfeit.  Mr.  Keyser  had  examined 
the  ticket  carefully,  and  had  taken  it  into 
the  Stock-exchange  to  sell,  when  Mr. 
Shewell  came  into  the  same  box,  and  de- 
sired to  look  at  the  ticket,  having,  as  he 
recollected,  purchased  one  of  the  same 
number  a  day  or  two  before.  This  for- 
tunate discovery  laid  open  the  fraud,  and 
the  two  jews  were  committed  to  take 
their  trial  for  their  ingenuity.  It  was  so 
artfully  altered  from  23,590,  that  not  the 
least  erasure  could  be  discerned.  Arones 
was  but  just  come  to  England,  and  Noah 
was  thought  to  be  a  man  of  property. 

In  February  following,  Arones  and 
Noah  were  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey  for  the 
forgery  and  fraud.  Their  defence  was, 
that  the  prisoner  Arones  found  it,  and  per- 
sons were  brought  to  swear  it ;  on  which 
they  were  acquitted.  The  figure  altered 
was  so  totally  obliterated  by  a  certain 
liquid,  that  not  the  least  trace  of  it  could 
be  perceived. 

At  the  same  sessions,  Daniel  Denny 
was  tried  for  forging,  counterfeiting,  and 
altering  a  lottery  ticket,  with  intent  to  de- 
fraud ;  and,  being  found  guilty,  was  con- 
demned.f 


*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 


t  Ibid. 


i467 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


14C8 


INSURING. 

In  July,  1778,  came  on  to  be  tried  at 
Guildhall,  before  lord  Mansfield,  a  cause, 
wherein  a  merchant  was  plaintiff  and  a 
lottery-office  keeper  defendant.  The  ac- 
tion was  brought  for  suffering  a  young 
man,  the  plaintiff's  apprentice,  to  insure 
with  the  defendant  during  the  drawing  of 
the  last  lottery,  contrary  to  the  statute ; 
whereby  the  youth  lost  a  considerable 
sum,  the  property  of  the  merchant.  The 
jury  without  going  out  of  court  gave  a 
verdict  for  the  plaintiff,  thereby  subject- 
ing the  defendant  to  pay  500/.  penalty, 
and  to  three  months'  imprisonment.* 

During  the  same  year,  parliament  hav- 
ing discussed  the  evil  of  insuring,  and  the 
mischievous  subdivision  of  the  shares  of 
tickets,  passed  an  act  "  for  the  regulation 
of  Lottery  offices,"  in  which  the  principal 
clauses  were  as  follows  — 

"  To  oblige  every  lottery-office  keeper 
to  take  out  a  licence,  at  the  expense  of 
50/.,  and  give  security  not  to  infringe  any 
part  of  the  act. 

"  That  no  person  shall  dispose  of  any 
part  of  a  ticket  in  any  smaller  share  or 
proportion  than  a  sixteenth,  on  50/. 
penalty. 

"  That  any  person  selling  goods,  wares, 
or  other  merchandise,  or  who  shall  offer 
any  sum  or  sums  of  money,  upon  any 
chance  or  event  whatsoever,  relating  to 
the  drawing  of  any  ticket,  shall  be  liable 
to  a  penalty  of  20J. 

"  To  enable  the  commissioners  of  his 
majesty's  treasury  to  establish  an  office ; — 
all  shares  to  be  stamped  at  that  office  ; — 
the  original  tickets  from  which  such  shares 
are  lo  be  taken,  to  be  kept  at  that  office 
till  a  certain  time  after  drawing ; — books 
of  entry  lo  be  regularly  kept ; — persons 
carrying  shares  to  be  stamped  to  pay  a 
small  sum  specified  in  the  act ;— penalties 
for  persons  selling  shares  not  stamped ; 
and  a  clause  for  punishing  persons  who 
shall  forge  the  stamp  of  any  ticket." 

In  1779,  the  drawing  of  the  lottery  and 
the  conduct  of  lottery-office  keepers  was 
further  regulated  by  act  of  parliament.f 

EVASIONS  OF  THE  INSURERS. 
The  provisions  of  parliament   against 
the  ruinous  practice  of   insurance  were 
evaded  by  the  dexterity  of  the  lottery- 
office  keepers.     In   1781,  the   following 


•  Gentleman^  Magazine. 
f  Anderson. 


proposals   were   issued  by  the  cunning, 
and  greedily  accepted  by  the  credulous. 

I. 

November  7,  1781 
MODE  OF  INSURANCE, 

Which  continues  the  whole  time  or 
drawing  the  lottery,  at  CAR  RICK'S  STATE 
LOTTERY  OFFICE,  King's  Arms,  72, 
Threadneedle-street.  At  one  guinea  each 
NUMBEBS  are  taken,  to  return  three  twenty 
pound  prizes,  value  sixty  pound?,  for 
every  given  number  that  shall  be  drawn 
any  prize  whatever  above  twenty  pounds 
during  the  whole  drawing. 

%*  Numbers  at  half  a  guinea  to  receive 
half  the  above. 

II. 

J.  COOK  respectfully  solicits  the  public 
will  favour  the  following  incomparably 
advantageous  plan  with  attention,  by 
which  upwards  of  thirty-two  thousand 
chances  for  obtaining  a  prize  (out  of  the 
forty-eight  thousand  tickets)  are  given  in 
one  policy. 

POLICIES  OF  FIVE  GUINEAS  with  three 
numbers,  with  the  first  number  will  gain 
20000  if  a  prize  of  £20000 

10000 £10000 

5000 £  5000 

with  the  second  number  will  gain 
6000  guineas  if  20000 

3000 10000 

1500 5000 

with  the  third  number  will  gain 
3000  guineas  if   20000 

1500 10000 

1200 5000 


In  the  lottery  act  of  1782  there  was  a 
clause _designed  to  prevent  the  insurance 
of  tickets  by  any  method.  The  lottery- 
office  keepers  persisted  in  their  devices, 
and  the  magistrates  enforced  the  law. 

About  the  beginning  of  January  1785 
several  lottery-office  keepers  were  con- 
victed, before  the  lord  mayor  and  alder- 
men, in  penalties  of  fifty  pounds  each  for 
insuring  numbers  contrary  to  law  ;  and  in 
Trinity  term  the  following  cause  was 
tried  at  Westminster,  before  lord  Lough- 
borough. 

A  lottery-office  keeper  near  Charing- 
cross  was  plaintiff,  and  the  sheriff  of  Mid- 
dlesex defendant.  The  action  was  to 
recover  one  thousand  five  hundred  and 
sixty-six  pounds,  levied  by  the  sheriff, 
about  a  year  past,  on  the  plaintiff's  goods, 
by  virtue  of  three  writs  of  fieri  facias, 


1469 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES 


1470 


issued  from  the  court  of  King's-bench.  It 
seems  that  the  above  plaintiff'  was  con- 
victed in  three  penalties  of  five  hundred 
pounds  each,  for  insuring  lottery  tickets; 
but  previous  to  the  trial's  coming  on,  for 
some  indulgence,  he  had,  by  himself  or 
agents,  consented  not  to  bring  any  writ 
of  error,  and  an  order  of  nisi  prius  was 
drawn  up,  and  served  upon  his  attorney ; 
nowithstanding  which,  three  writs  of  error 
were  sued  out.  The  court  of  King's- 
bench  being  then  moved,  made  an  order 
that  the  executions  should  be  levied  ac- 
cording to  the  original  rule  of  court :  the 
sheriff  made  the  levy,  and  the  money 
being  paid  and  impounded  in  his  hands, 
the  above  action  was  brought  to  get  the 
same  returned.  The  novelty  of  the  action 
caused  much  laughter  among  the  counsel, 
and,  after  a  few  minutes'  hearing,  his  lord- 
ship ordered  the  plaintiff  to  be  nonsuited.* 

LOTTERY  WOOD  CUTS. 

It  is  to  be  remarked,  that  at  this  period 
engravings  on  their  printed  addresses 
do  not  seem  to  have  been  resorted  to 
by  the  lottery-schemers  as  they  have  been 
since,  for  the  purpose  of  stimulating  at- 
tention to  their  plans.  No  subject  of  the 
kind  therefore  can  be  given,  to  illustrate 
their  proceedings  at  the  time  now  under 
review ;  but  on  arriving,  as  we  shall  pre- 
sently, at  days  nearer  our  own,  they  crowd 
upon  us,  and  several  will  be  given  in  the 
next  sheet  as  specimens  of  their  ingenuity 
and  taste. 

CHARLES  PRICE,  alias  PATCH,  &c. 

This  man  was  a  lottery-office  keeper. 
His  notoriety  and  his  fate  render  him  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  characters  of  the  age 
wherein  he  lived;  it  is  therefore  pro- 
posed to  give  a  brief  outline  of  his  life. 

His  father,  Charles  Price,  was  "  by 
trade  a  tailor."  He  came  from  South 
Wales,  about  the  year  1702,  and  worked 
at  several  places  in  London,  till  in  1710 
he  got  into  Monmouth-street,  as  journey- 
man to  a  salesman  there.  By  strict  ap- 
plication he  was,  in  a  few  years,  enabled 
to  set  up  as  a  master,  and  kept  a  saleshop 
the  corner  of  Earl-street  and  West-street, 
Seven  Dials.  Some  time  previous  to  this 
he  had  married  a  woman  who  bore  a  very 
good  character.  He  was  very  clever 
m  his  business,  but  illiterate;  yet 
exceedingly  artful,  and  the  flower  of 

*  Universal  Magazine. 


Monmouth-street  for  oratory  in  the  sale 
of  his  goods :  at  the  same  time,  he  was 
sincere  in  his  friendships,  despised  down- 
right knavery,  and  had  a  regard  to  repu- 
tation. His  eldest  son,  Thomas,  was  bred 
to  his  father's  business.  One  Creed,  a 
salesman  in  Rosemary-lane,  used  to  send 
him  with  a  cart  loaded  with  goods  round 
the  country ;  and  Creed  dying,  Thomas 
decamped  with  the  produce  of  one 
journey,  about  200  J.  For  this,  and  for 
similar  acts  of  knavery  in  his  brother 
Charles,  he  left  them  only  a  shilling  each, 
and  bequeathed  the  rest  of  his  property  to 
his  daughter.  Thomas  died  young. 

Charles,  the  hero  of  our  history,  when 
about  six  years  of  age,  was  sent  to  school, 
where  he  acquired  the  rudiments  of  the 
French  language,  and  was  so  neglected  in 
his  own,  that  he  was  complete  in  neither. 
At  about  twelve  years'  old  he  was  taken 
home  to  assist  his  father,  where  he  soon 
gave  proofs  of  address  similar  to  the  fol- 
lowing. 

A  sailor  who  had  staggered  to  Mon- 
mouth-street to  buy  some  clothes,  was 
caught  by  Charles  at  the  corner,  and  in- 
troduced by  him  into  a  room,  where,  in  a 
summer's  noon,  it  was  hardly  possible  to 
distinguish  blue  from  black,  or  green  from 
blue.  The  honest  tar  was  shown  a  coat 
and  waistcoat,  the  veal  value  of  which 
was  about  two  guineas.  Though  they 
were  considerably  too  little,  Charles 
squeezed  him  up,  and  persuaded  him  they 
fitted  exactly.  The  price  being  demanded, 
Charles  declared  upon  his  honour  the 
lowest  farthing  he  could  take  was  five 
guineas.  The  sailor  put  his  hand  in  his 
pocket,  and  laid  down  the  money.  Charles 
stepped  down  to  his  father's  journeyman, 
under  pretence  of  getting  something  to 
put  the  clothes  in,  and  told  him  the 
customer  he  met  with,  and  that  he  might 
as  well  have  had  six  guineas  as  five.  "  Do 
you,"  said  he,  "  follow  me  up  stairs,  n- 
quire  what  I  have  done,  pretend  to  be 
very  angry,  swear  they  cost  you  six 
guineas,  give  me  two  or  three  kicks  or 
cuffs,  and  I  dare  swear  we  shall  get  more 
money  out  of  him,  and  then,  as  my  father 
is  not  at  home,  you  shall  go  halves  in  all 
we  get  above  the  five  guineas."  The 
scheme  was  readily  acquiesced  in  by  the 
journeyman.  Charles  slipped  up  stairs  ; 
the  journeyman  followed,  inquiry,  blame, 
and  sham  blows  ensued  ;  the  journeyman 
declared  the  clothes  cost  him  six  guineas 
out  of  his  pocket,  and  was  going  to  beat 
Charles  again,  when  the  sailor  cried, 


1471 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK,— -LOTTERIES. 


"  Avast,  master,  don't  beat  the  boy,  if  he 
has  made  a  mistake  in  a  guinea,  why  here 
it  is;"  and  laying  it  down,  departed  well 
pleased  with  his  bargain,  and  that  he  had 
saved  the  lad  a  drubbing  by  the  insigni- 
ficant trifle  of  an  additional  guinea. 
Charles  gave  his  father  two  guineas,  the 
journeyman  half  a  one,  and  kept  three 
guineas  and  a  half  to  himself. 

The  father  soon  experienced  the  effects 
of  his  son's  knavery,  and  put  him  ap- 
prentice to  a  hatter  and  hosier  in  St. 
James's-street,  with  a  considerable  pre- 
mium, hoping  that  his  conduct  would  be 
quite  different  from  what  it  had  been  at 
home ;  but  his  master  had  almost  as  much 
reason  to  complain  of  him  as  his  father. 
Among  his  other  frauds  was  the  follow- 
ing :  he  robbed  his  father  of  an  elegant 
suit  of  clothes,  in  which  he  dressed  him- 
self and  went  to  his  master,  of  whom  he 
purchased  about  ten  pounds'  worth  of  silk 
stockings,  leaving  his  address,  Benjamin 
Bolingbroke,  esq  ,  Hanover-square,  and 
ordering  them  to  be  sent  in  an  hour's 
time,  when  he  would  pay  the  person  who 
brought  them.  Incredible  as  it  may  ap- 
pear, his  master  did  not  know  him ;  to 
complete  the  cheat,  he  came  back  in  half 
an  hour,  in  his  usual  dress,  and  was  or- 
dered to  take  the  goods  home,  which  he 
actually  pretended  to  do,  and  thus  robbed 
his  master.  Having  been  detected  in  his 
villanies,  he  ran  away  ;  and  his  father,  in 
detestation  of  his  principles,  disinherited 
him,  soon  afterwards  died,  and  was 
buried  at  Lambeth.  It  may  be  re- 
marked, that  he  was  the  first  corpse  car- 
ried over  Westminster-bridge,  which  was 
on  the  first  day  it  was  free  for  car- 
riages, when  multitudes  flocked  to  see  the 
opening  of  the  new  structure. 

Before  his  father's  death,  Charles 
Price  became  a  gentleman's  servant,  and 
in  that  capacity  lived  some  years,  till  he 
got  into  the  service  of  sir  Francis  Blake 
Delaval,  went  with  him  the  tour  of  Eu- 
rope, returned  to  England,  and  through 
sir  Francis,  who  was  the  companion  of 
the  celebrated  Samuel  Foote,  became 
comedian.  He  acted  a  principal  part  in 
the  scheme  by  which  sir  Francis  obtained 
his  lady,  with  a  very  large  fortune.  She 
went  to  consult  a  conjuror,  and  Foote 
perfoimed  the  character  to  the  satisfaction 
of  his  friend.  Price  afterwards  contrived 
to  conjure  Foote  oul  of  500J.  in  a  sham 
scheme  in  a  brewery,  wherein  that  gentle- 
man and  Price  were  concerned.  Price 
was  made  a- bankrupt,  and  afterwards  set 


up  in  a  distillery,  defrauded  the  revenue, 
was  sent  to  the  King's-bench,  released  by 
an  insolvent  act,  again  turned  brewer, 
and  defrauded  a  gentleman  out  of  6000/. 
through  one  of  his  disguises.  He  then 
became  a  lottery-office  keeper  and  stock- 
broker, gambled  in  the  alley,  was  ruined, 
again  set  up  lottery-office  keeper,  courted 
a  Mrs.  Pounteney,  and  ran  away  with  her 
niece,  who  was  the  daughter  of  justice 
Wood,  in  the  Borough.  He  practised 
innumerable  frauds,  became  an  adept  in 
swindling,  and  had  the  effrontery  to  avow 
his  depredations,  and  laugh  at  those  he 
injured. 

Price  was  intimate  with  a  Mr.  R — s, 
a  grocer  retired  from  business,  with  whom 
he  had  for  a  long  time  passed  as  a  stock- 
broker. Price,  who  then  lived  at  Knights- 
bridge,  frequently  used  to  request  the  fa- 
vour of  Mr.  R.  to  take  a  bank-note  or  two 
into  the  city,  and  get  them  changed  into 
small  ones.  In  this  he  had  a  two-fold  plot. 
He  informed  his  friend  that  he  was  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  a  very  old  gentle- 
man, exceedingly  rich,  who  had  been  an 
eminent  broker  in  the  alley,  but  had  long 
retired  ;  that  his  monies  in  the  funds  were 
immense  ;  that  the  only  relation  he  had  in 
the  world  was  one  sister,  to  whom  he 
intended  to  bequeath  the  best  part  of  his 
property;  and  that  his  sister  was  near 
fifty  years  of  age,  had  never  been  mar- 
ried, and  determined  never  to  marry  ;  and 
that  it  was  impossible  the  old  gentleman 
could  live  long,  as  he  was  very  old,  very 
infirm,  and  almost  incapable  of  going  oul 
of  doors.  This  old  gentleman,  Price  said, 
had  often  asked  him  to  become  his  execu- 
tor; and  besought  him  to  recommend 
another  person,  in  whose  fidelity,  charac- 
ter, and  integrity,  he  could  repose  an 
entire  confidence,  and  that  he  would  make 
it  well  worth  their  while,  if  they  would 
undertake  so  friendly  and  solemn  an 
office.—"  Now,"  said  Price  to  Mr.  R. 
"  here  is  an  opportunity  for  us  to  make  a 
considerable  sum  in  a  short  time,  and,  in 
all  probability,  a  very  capital  fortune  in  a 
few  years ;  for  the  sister  being  determined 
not  to  marry,  and  having  no  relations  in 
the  world,  there  is  no  doubt  but  she  will 
leave  us  the  whole  of  the  estate;  and, 
after  his  decease,  she  will  become  totally 
dependent  upon  us. — I  shall  see  the  old 
gentleman,  Mr.  Bond,  to-day,  and  if  you 
will  join  in  the  trust,  the  will  shall  be  im- 
mediately made." 

To  this  proposal  Mr.  R.  consented.    In 
the   evening-  Price    returned  '  to  Knights- 


1473 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1474 


IN  HIS  USUAL  DRESS — AND  IN  DISGUISE. 


bridge.  He  told  Mr.  R.  that  he  had 
visited  Mr.  Bond,  who  expressed  great 
happiness  and  easiness  of  mind  on  such  a 
recommendation,  and  desired  to  see  Mr. 
R.  the  next  day.  Price  appointed  to 
meet  him  at  twelve  o'clock  at  Mr.  Bond's. 
At  the  appointed  hour,  Mr.  R.  knocked  at 
the  door.  He  was  shown  up  stairs  by  the 
aforementioned  sister-lady,  and  introduced 
to  Mr.  Bond,  seated  in  a  great  chair,  his 
legs  in  another,  and  covered  with  a  night- 
cap. The  poor,  infirm,  weak,  debilitated, 
old  gentleman  regretted  the  absence  of 
his  ever-dear  friend  Mr.  Price,  the  most 
worthy  man  in  the  world,  and  rang  a 
peal  on  his  friendship,  honour,  honesty, 
integrity,  &c.,  &c.,  accompanied  with 
emaciated  coughs. — was  obliged  to  go  to 
the  city  coffee-house — a  punctual  man — 
never  failed  an  appointment — it  was  the 
soul  of  business — and  then  he  told  Mr. 
VOL.  II.— 99. 


R.  that  his  dear  friend  desired  to  meet 
Mr.R.  there  exactly  at  one  o'clock — he  ap- 
proved highly  of  Mr.  Price's  recommenda- 
tion, and  was  now  happy  in  his  mind — it 
wanted  but  a  quarter  to  one,  he  believed, 
and  he  hoped  Mr.  R.  would  not  fail,  as 
his  dear  friend  was  very  exact  indeed. 
The  usual  compliments  passed  ;  the  sister 
conducted  Mr.  R.  to  the  door,  who  posted 
away  to  the  city  coffee-house,  and  left  old 
Mr.  Bond,  the  rich  brother,  who  was  in 
reality  no  other  than  Mr.  Price,  and  the 
brother's  maiden  sister,  who  was  a 
Mrs.  Pounteney,  to  laugh  at  Mr.  R.'s  cre- 
dulity. Mr.  R.  had  not  been  five  minutes 
in  the  coffee-housa  before  he  was  joined 
by  his  friend  Price,  to  whom  Mr.  R.  re- 
capitulated what  passed,  and  as  soon  as 
Price  had  despatched  some  pretended 
business,  he  proposed  calling  on  Mr.Bond. 
This  was  readily  acquiesced  in  by  Mr.  R, 


1475 


THE  EVE11Y-DAY  BOOK. —LOTTERIES 


and  away  they  drove  to  Leather-lane. 
When  they  came  there,  they  were  in- 
formed by  the  lady,  that  her  brother  was 
just  gone  out  in  a  coach,  on  an  airing,  to 
Highgate.  In  short,  Price  carried  on  the 
scheme  completely  for  several  days,  during 
which  time  Mr.  R.  had  twice  or  thrice 
seen  the  old  gentleman.  The  will  was 
made,  and,  on  the  strength  of  the  joint 
executorship  and  expectancy,  Mr.  R.  was 
swindled  out  of  very  near  a  thousand 
pounds  in  cash,  and  bonds  to  the  amount 
of  two  hundred  pounds. 

Another  anecdote,  though  it  does  not 
exhibit  him  in  his  Proteus-like  character, 
exemplifies  his  cunning  and  selfishness. 
He  had  formed  a  connection  with  Mr. 

W ,  a  brewer,  a  man  of  character. 

Price,  who  was  then  in  the  brewery,  pro- 
posed a  project,  which  was  assented  to, 
for  purchasing  hops  to  the  amount  of  two 
thousand  pounds,  and  he  actually  went 
into  the  country,  contracted  for  hops  to 
that  amount  with  hop-growers  in  Kent, 
and  then  applied  to  Mr.  W.  for  the  two 
thousand  pounds,  alledging  that  there 
would  be  a  sudden  rise  of  hops,  and  they 
could  not  be  delivered  too  soon  ;  and  that 
Mr.  W.  should  have  his  share  of  the  pro- 
fit. From  some  undisclosed  motive,  Mr. 
W.  refused  to  advance  the  money.  An 
unexpected  rise,  however,  did  soon  after 
take  place,  Price  went  into  Kent  to  de- 
mand delivery,  the  growers  were  shy  in 
delivering,  especially  as  they  found  they 
had  made  a  bad  bargain,  and  he  gained 
two  hundred  pounds  for  releasing  them. 

Price  was  servile  to  extreme  meanness, 
where  his  servility  could  be  recompensed 
by  a  shilling.  He  was  master  of  consum- 
mate effrontery,  when  principle  called 
upon  him  for  that  shilling,  if  it  was  un- 
supported by  law.  He  never  paid  but 
with  an  eye  to  further  plunder  ;  and  then 
he  abounded  in  that  species  of  flattery  dis- 
tinguished under  the  word  palaver.  He 
possessed  an  extensive  knowledge  of  men 
and  manners,  and  to  superficial  observers 
appeared  a  very  sensible  person.  He 
knew  something  of  most  of  the  living  lan- 
guages ;  had  travelled  all  over  France 
and  Holland,  and  been  at  most  of  the 
German  courts.  He  was  at  Copenhagen 
during  the  crisis  in  the  fate  of  the  unhap- 
by  Matilda  queen  of  Denmark,  sister  to 
George  III. ;  and  he  wrote  a  pamphlet 
in  her  behalf,  tending  to  prove  that  the 
true  motive  for  the  degrading  attack  on 
her  character,  was  to  effect  a  revolution  in 
favour  of  the  queen  dovtager's  son.  It 


proved  him  to  have  an  eye  directed  to  the 
cabals  of  the  court,  and  an  understanding 
capable  of  developing  its  intrigues. 

Price's  character  about  the  'Change  in 
London  was  well-known — he  was  a  keen, 
intriguing  speculator,  well  versed  in  the 
mystery  of  the  bulls  and  bears  :  his  head 
enabled  him  to  make  the  most  accurate 
calculations,  but  his  heart  would  not  per- 
mit him  to  enjoy  the  fruit  of  even  his 
honest  labours ;  for  he  never  would  com- 
ply with  the  demands  of  a  fortunate  cus- 
tomer, unless  terrified  into  it, — and  to  ter- 
rify him  required  no  small  portion  of  in- 
genuity and  resolution.  His  dishonesty 
was  the  spring  of  all  his  misfortunes;  it 
made  him  shift  from  place  to  place  to 
avoid  the  abuse  of  the  vulgar,  and  the 
clamorous  calls  of  the  few  fortunate  ad- 
venturers in  the  lottery.  His  last  office 
was  the  corner  of  King-street,  Covent- 
garden,  from  whence  he  was  driven,  by  a 
run  of  ill-luck,  into  a  private  decamp- 
ment. 

From  that  period,  Price  lived  in  obscu- 
rity. Though  a  perfect  sycophant  abroad, 
at  home  he  was  an  absolute  tyrant ;  nor 
could  a  prudent,  virtuous  woman,  en- 
dowed with  every  qualification  to  render 
the  marriage  state  happy,  soften  his  brutal 
disposition,  when  the  ample  fortune  he 
obtained  with  her  had  been  squandered. 
Having  a  family  of  eight  children  to  sup- 
port, he  turned  his  thoughts  to  fatal  de- 
vices, and  commenced  to  forge  on  the 
bank  of  England.  His  first  attack  on  the 
bank  was  about  the  year  1780,  when  one 
of  his  notes  had  been  taken  there,  so  com- 
plete in  the  engraving,  the  signature,  the 
water-marks,  and  all  its  parts,  that  it 
passed  through  various  hands  unsus- 
pected, and  was  not  discovered  till  it 
came  to  a  certain  department,  through 
which  no  forgery  whatever  can  pass  un- 
discovered. The  appearance  of  this  note 
occasioned  a  considerable  alarm  among 
the  directors ;  and  forgery  upon  forgery 
flowed  in,  about  the  lottery  and  Christmas 
times,  without  the  least  probability  of  dis- 
covering the  first  negociators.  Various 
consultations  were  held,  innumerable 
plans  were  laid  for  detection,  and  they 
were  traced  in  every  quarter  to  have  pro- 
ceeded from  one  man,  always  disguised, 
"  and  always  inaccessible. 

Had  Price  permitted  a  partner  in  his 
proceedings — had  he  employed  an  engra- 
ver— had  he  procured  paper  to  be  made  foi 
him,  with  water-marks  upon  it,  he  must 
soon  have  been  discovered — but  hfc 


1477 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1478 


"  was  himself  alone."  He  engraved  his 
own  plates,  made  his  own  paper  with  the 
water-marks,  and,  as  much  as  possible,  he 
was  his  own  negociator.  He  thereby 
confined  a  secret  to  himself,  which  he 
deemed  not  safe  in  the  breast  of  another ; 
even  Mrs.  Price  had  not  the  least  know- 
ledge or  suspicion  of  his  proceedings. 
Having  practised  engraving  till  he  had 
made  himself  sufficient  master  of  it,  he 
then  made  his  own  ink  to  prove  his  own 
works.  He  next  purchased  implements, 
and  manufactured  the  water-mark,  and 
began  to  counterfeit  hand-writings.  Pri- 
vate attempts  to  discover  him  proved 
thoroughly  abortive,  and  the  bank  came 
to  the  resolution  of  describing  the  offender 
by  the  following  public  advertisement, 
which  was  continued  in  all  the  news- 
papers for  a  considerable  time  to  no  pur- 
pose. It  is  a  very  curious  document,  from 
the  minuteness  with  which  his  disguise 
is  particularized. 

Public-office,  Bow-street,  Dec.  5,  1780. 
A  FORGERY. 

Whereas  a  person,  answering  the  follow- 
fug  description,  stands  charged  with  forging 
two  notes,  purporting  to  be  bank-notes,  one 
for  forty  pounds  and  the  other  for  twenty 
pounds,  whoever  will  apprehend  him,  or  give 
such  immediate  notice  at  this  office  as  may  be 
the  means  of  apprehending  him,  shall  receive 
one  hundred  pounds'  reward  on  his  commit- 
ment. 

Or,  if  any  person  concerned  in  the  above 
forgery,  (except  the  person  here-under  de- 
scribed,) will  surrender  and  discover  his  or 
her  accomplices,  he  or  she  will  be  admitted 
an  evidence  for  the  crown,  and,  on  conviction 
of  any  one  offender  therein,  receive  two  hun- 
dred pounds'  reward. 

And  if  any  engraver,  paper-maker,  mould- 
maker  or  printer,  can  give  information  of  the 
engraving  any  plate,  making  any  mould  or 
paper,  or  printing  any  note  resembling  bank- 
notes, shall  receive  two  hundred  pounds'  re- 
ward, on  conviction  of  any  of  the  offenders 
in  the  above  forgery. 

He  appears  about  fifty  years  of  age,  about 
five  feet  six  inches  high,  stout  made,  very 
sallow  complexion,  dark  eyes  and  eye-brows, 
speaks  in  general  very  deliberately,  with  a 
foreign  accent ;  has  worn  a  black  patch  over 
his  left  eye,  tied  with  a  string  round  his  head, 
sometimes  wears  a  white  wig,  his  hat  flapped 
before,  and  nearly  so  at  the  sides,  a  brown 
Camblet  great  coat,  buttons  of  the  same,  with 
a  large  cape,  which  he  always  wears  so  as  to 
cover  the  lower  part  of  his  face  ;  appears  to 
have  very  thick  legs,  which  hang  over  his 
ghoes,  as  if  swelled,  his  shoes  are  very  broad 


at  the  toes,  and  little  narrow  old-fashioned 
silver  buckles,  black  stocking  breeches,  walks 
with  a  short  crutch  stick  with  an  ivory  head, 
stoops,  or  affects  to  stoop  vory  much,  and 
walks  slow  as  if  infirm;  he  lias  lately  hired 
many  hackney-coaches  in  different  parts  of 
the  town,  and  been  frequently  set  down  in  or 
near  Portland -place,  in  which  neighbourhood 
it  is  supposed  he  lodges. 

He  is  connected  with  a  woman  who  answers 
the  following  description  : — She  is  rather  tall, 
and  genteel,  thin  face  and  person,  about  thirty 
years  of  age,  light  hair,  rather  a  yellow  cast 
on  her  face,  and  pitted  with  the  small  pox,  a 
down-cast  iook,  speaks  very  slow,  sometimes 
wears  a  coloured  linen  jacket  and  petticoat, 
and  sometimes  a  white  one,  a  small  black 
bonnet,  and  a  black  cloak,  and  assumes  the 
character  of  a  lady's  maid. 

N.  B.  It  is  said,  that  about  fifteen  months 
since  he  lodged  at  Mrs.  Parker's,  No.  40,  in 
Great  Titchfield-street,  (who  is  since  dead,)  at 
which  time  he  went  by  the  name  of  Wigmore. 

This  advertisement  drove  Price  to  ex- 
tremities : — it  forced  him  to  refrain  from 
the  circulation  of  his  forgeries,  and  for 
some  months  put  a  total  stop  to  them. 
It  was  posted  on  the  walls,  and  printed 
as  hand-bills,  and  delivered  from  house 
to  house  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
quarter  where  he  was  most  suspected  to 
reside;  at  the  very  house  which  he  daily 
resorted  to,  and  where  all  his  implements 
were  fixed  ;  in  the  neighbourhood  of  JMa- 
rybone,  Portland-place,  Oxford-street,  and 
Tottenham-court-road.  One  of  them  was 
thrown  down  an  area  to  the  only  person 
in  whom  he  placed  any  confidence,  a 
female  whom  the  reader  will  be  better 
acquainted  with.  By  these  means  Price 
was  informed  of  his  immediate  danger, 
and  took  his  measures  accordingly.  Eager- 
ness to  secure  banished  the  foresight  and 
caution  which  are  necessary  in  the  pur- 
suit of  artful  villany.  The  animal 
whose  sagacity  is  a  proverb,  can  never  be 
secured  in  haste ;  he  must  be  entrapped 
by  superior  patience -and  caution. 

Though  Price  had  no  partner  in  any 
branch  of  the  forgery  of  a  bank-note,  yet 
he  had  a  confidante  in  his  wife's  aunt,  by 
the  mother's  side,  whom  he  had  known 
previous  to  his  marriage.  Her  name  was 
Pounteney  ;  and,  unknovm  to  Mrs.  Price, 
he  was  daily  with  her.  He  divided  his 
dinner-times  equally  between  the  two, 
and  Mrs.  Price  had  for  ten  years'  past, 
through  the  impositions  of  her  husband, 
considered  her  aunt  either  as  dead,  or 
residing  abroad.  His  wife  had  too  little 
art,  or  understanding  in  the  ways  of 


1479 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


H'JC 


the  world,  to  be  what  is  commonly  called 
cunning.  In  short,  her  character  was  that 
of  perfect  simplicity.  Price  therefore 
thought  her  not  fit  to  be  trusted.  Her 
aunt,  on  the  contrary,  was  wily,  crafty  and 
capable  of  executing  any  plan  Price  would 
chalk  out  for  her.  She  was  a  woman 
after  his  own  heart;  and  having  made 
choice  of  this  woman  as  an  assistant,  and 
his  apparatus  being  ready,  he  began  his 
operations.  He  lived  then  at  Paddington 
with  his  wife,  whom  he  went  to  nightly ; 
and  at  lodgings,  near  Portland-place,  he 
daily  visited  her  aunt,  where  the  imple- 
ments for  his  undertakings  were  concealed. 
His  next  and  chief  object  was  a  negoci- 
ator,  and  he  procured  one  in  the  follow- 
ing manner. 

Previous  to  the  drawing  of  the  lottery 
for  the  year  1780,  Price  put  an  advertise- 
ment into  the  "  Daily  Advertiser"  for  a 
servant  who  had  been  used  to  live  with  a 
single  gentleman,  and  the  direction  was 
to  "  C.  C.  Marlborough-street  coffee- 
house, Broad-street,  Carnaby-market."  An 
honest  young-  man,  who  at  that  time  lived 
with  a  musical  instrument-maker  in  the 
Strand,  read  this  advertisement,  and  sent  a 
letter  to  the  specified  address.  At  the 
end  of  a  week,  one  evening,  about  dusk, 
a  coachman  inquired  for  the  person  who 
had  answered  the  advertisement,  saying 
there  was  a  gentleman  over  the  way,  in  a 
coach,  wanted  to  speak  with  him.  The 
young  man  went  to  the  coach,  was  de- 
sired to  step  in,  and  there  saw  an  appa- 
rently aged  foreigner,  gouty,  wrapped  up 
with  five  or  six  yards  of  flannel  about  his 
legs,  a  camblet  surtout  buttoned  up  over 
his  chin,  close  to  his  mouth,  a  large  patch 
over  his  left  eye,  and  every  part  of  his 
face  concealed  except  his  nose,  right  eye, 
and  a  small  part  of  that  cheek.  This 
person  was  Price,  who  caused  the  young 
man  to  sit  at  his  left  side,  on  which  eye 
the  patch  was ;  so  that  Price  could  take  an 
askance  look  at  him  with  his  right  eye, 
and  discover  only  a  small  portion  of  his 
own  face.  Thus  disguised,  he  seemed 
between  sixty  and  seventy  years  of  age, 
and  afterwards,  when  the  man  saw  him 
standing,  he  appeared  nearly  six  feet  high, 
owing  to  boots  or  shoes  with  heels  little 
less  than  four  inches  high.  To  aid  the 
deception,  he  was  so  buttoned  up  and 
straightened  as  to  appear  perfectly  lank. 
Price's  real  height  was  about  five  feet  six 
inches ;  he  was  a  compact,  neat  made 
man,  rather  square  shouldered,  and  some- 
what inclined  to  corpulency;  his  legs 


were  firm  and  well  set.  His  features 
assisted  his  design  to  iook  considerably 
older  than  he  really  was;  his  nose 
was  aquiline,  his  eyes  were  small  and 
grey,  his  mouth  stood  very  much  inwards 
his  lips  were  very  thin,  his  chin  wat 
pointed  and  prominent,  he  had  a  pale 
complexion,  and  loss  of  teeth  favoured 
his  disguise  of  speech.  His  natural  forn. 
was  exceedingly  upright ;  he  was  active 
and  quick  in  his  walk,  and  was  what  is 
usually  described  "  a  dapper  made  man." 
To  the  young  man,  whose  Christian  name 
was  Samuel,  Price  affected  great  age,  with 
a  faint  hectic  cough,  and  so  much  bodily 
infirmity  as  almost  to  disable  him  from 
getting  out  of  the  coach.  Price  told  him 
he  was  not  wanted  by  himself,  but  as 
under  servant  to  a  young  nobleman  of 
fortune,  under  age,  and  then  in  Bedford- 
shire, to  whom  he  was,  and  had  been 
some  years,  guardian.  He  inquired  into 
the  particulars  of  Samuel's  life,  and  think- 
ing him  honest  and  ingenuous,  and  there- 
fore unsuspicious,  and  suitable  to  his  pur- 
pose, he  talked  to  him  about  wages. 
Samuel  inquired  whether  he  was  to  be  in 
livery  or  not :  Price  replied,  that  he 
could  not  really  tell,  for  the  young  noble- 
mon  was  a  very  whimsical  character,  but 
that  was  a  circumstance  which  might  be 
settled  hereafter.  To  carry  on  the  farce, 
he  desired  Samuel  to  call  his  master  to 
the  coach  to  give  him  a  character,  and  his 
master  came  and  gave  him  such  an  one  as 
Price  pretended  to  approve;  he  then 
hired  Samuel  at  eighteen  shillings  per 
week,  and  gave  him  a  direction  to  him- 
self, as  Mr.  Brank,  at  No.  39,  Titchfield- 
street,  Oxford-street. 

Pursuant  to  appointment,  on  the  second 
or  third  evening  afterwards,  Samuel  went 
to  Titchfield-street,  and  there  entered  on 
the  service  of  the  minor  nobleman,  by 
waiting  on  Mr.  Brank.  Price  resumed 
his  discourse  respecting  his  ward,  the 
eccentricity  and  prodigality  of  his  man- 
ners, and  his  own  hard  task  in  endeavour- 
ing to  prevent  him  from  squandering  his 
money,  especially  in  those  deceitful  allur- 
ances  called  lottery  tickets.  He  said, 
although  he  was  his  guardian,  he  was 
still  obliged  to  comply  with  some  of 
those  whims,  in  opposition  to  his  own 
advice  and  remonstrance.  Old  Mr. 
Brank  talked  of  the  happy  prospects  for 
Samuel  by  serving  such  a  master,  and! 
Samuel  talked  of  his  wages  and  clothes 
and  whether  he  was  to  be  in  livery  or  not. 
It  was  concluded,  that  for  the  present  he 


1481 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES 


should  procure  a  drab  coat,  turned  up 
with  red,  till  the  nobleman's  pleasure  was 
known,  or  he  came  to  town  :  he  was  or- 
dered to  get  the  clothes  at  his  own  charge, 
and  make  out  his  bill ;  which  he  did,  but 
was  never  repaid.  This  circumstance 
corresponded  with  Price's  usual  conduct : 
he  never  was  known  to  part  with  a  shil- 
ling from  one  hand,  till  he  had  more  than 
double  its  value  in  the  other.  It  should 
be  observed,  that  Samuel  was  so  placed 
on  the  left  side  of  the  pretended  Mr. 
Brank,  on  which  side  the  patch  was,  that 
during  the  whole  of  the  conversation  he 
could  never  see  the  right  side  of  Price's 
face. 

Before  Samuel  took  leave  of  the  old 
gentleman,  he  was  ordered  to  come  again 
in  the  evening  of  the  first  day  of  the 
drawing  of  the  lottery.  Price  pretended, 
that  he  seldom  went  to  the  nobleman's 
town  house  of  an  evening,  and  therefore, 
to  avoid  giving  him  unnecessary  trouble, 
he  was  to  attend  in  Titchfield-street.  On 
that  evening  he  pulled  out  a  variety  of 
papers,  letters,  &c.,  and  told  Samuel  he 
had  received  orders  from  the  thoughtless 
young  nobleman  to  purchase  lottery 
tickets,  as  a  venture  against  his  coining 
to  town,  and  for  that  purpose  he  meant 
to  employ  Samuel.  He  produced  some 
seeming  bank-notes,  and  gave  Samuel 
two,  one  of  twenty  pounds,  the  other  of 
forty  pounds.  He  directed  him  to  take 
their  numbers  and  dates  on  a  piece  of 
paper,  for  fear  of  losing  them,  and  to  go 
to  a  lottery  office  in  the  Hay-market,  and 
with  the  one  of  twenty  pounds  to  pur- 
chase "  an  eight  guinea  chance :"  from 
thence  he  was  to  go  to  the  corner  of 
Bridge-street,  Westminster,  to  buy  ano- 
ther out  of  the  forty  pound  note,  and 
wait  at  the  door  of  the  Parliament-street 
coffee-house  till  he  came  to  him.  With 
these  notes  Samuel  bought  each  of 
the  chances,  and  was  on  his  way  to  the 
Parliament-street  coffee-house  when,  from 
the  opposite  side  of  the  way,  he  was 
hailed  by  Mr  Brank,  who  complimented 
him  on  his  speed,  and  said  he  had  been 
so  quick,  that  he,  Brank,  had  not  had 
time  to  get  to  the  coffee-house.  He  was 
then  interrogated,  if  he  had  made  the  pur- 
chases, and,  replying  in  the  affirmative, 
was  again  commended  for  his  diligence  : 
Brank  also  inquired,  if  any  mistake  had 
n  appened ;  and  all  this  with  a  deal  of 
coughing  imbecility  of  speech,  and  feigned 
ac  cent. 

When   Samuel  received  the  notes,  he 


received  as  many  canvass  bags  as  he  was 
orcierea  to  buy  shares,  and  to  put  each 
distinct  share,  and  the  balance  of  eacu 
note,  into  a  separate  bag,  for  fear,  as 
Brank  said,  the  chance  of  one  office  might 
be  confused  with  the  chance  of  another 
and  Samuel  be  thereby  puzzled  to  know 
where  he  had  bought  the  different  chances ; 
and  by  such  confusion,  or  forgetfulness, 
it  might  not  be  recollected  where  to  apply 
in  case  of  a  fortunate  number. 

Mr.  Brank  having  secured  the  chances 
and  balances,  ordered  Samuel  to  go  to 
Goodluck's  at  Charing-cross,  from  thence 
to  King-street,  Covent-garden,  and  York- 
street,  Covent-garden,  and  purchase  some 
other  small  shares  and  chances,  and  then 
meet  him  at  the  city  coffee-house,  Cheap- 
side.  To  these  places  the  young  man 
went,  and  having  bought  his  numbers 
and  changed  his  notes,  as  he  was  going 
along  York-street,  his  master  called  to 
him  from  a  coach,  pretended  he  was  for- 
tunate in  thus  seeing  him,  made  Samuel 
step  in,  got  the  produce  of  the  forgery, 
and  away  they  drove  to  the  city. 

In  their  way  thither,  Brank  applauded 
his  servant's  despatch ;  gave  him  more 
notes,  to  the  amount  of  four  hundred 
pounds,  with  instructions  to  purchase 
shares  and  chances,  at  offices  about  the 
Exchange;  and  directed  him,  as  before, 
to  put  the  chances  and  money  received  at 
each  office  in  a  separate  bag.  For  this 
purpose  Samuel  was  set  down  from  the 
coach  in  Cheapside,  and  having  executed 
his  commissions  returned,  agreeable  to  his 
orders,  to  the  city  coffee-house,  where  he 
waited  a  few  minutes  and  then  Mr.  Brank 
came  hobbling  up  to  him,  and  took  him 
into  a  coach,  that  was  waiting  hard  by 
Brank  resumed  complaints  of  his  health 
and  infirmities,  and  observed,  that  the 
fatigues  of  business  had  kept  him  longer 
than  he  expected  ;  but  he  warned  Samuel 
to  be  always  exceedingly  punctual.  His 
reason  for  urging  punctuality  was  the  dread 
of  a  discovery,  and  to  prevent  consulta- 
tions, by  which  he  might  be  detected.  On 
their  way  to  Long-acre,  where  the  coach- 
man was  ordered  to  drive,  Brank  amused 
his  servant  with  flattering  promises  for 
his  attention  and  fidelity ;  and  at  parting 
put  a  guinea  into  his  hand,  and  gave  him 
orders  to  be  in  waiting,  for  a  few  days,  at 
his  old  master's  in  the  Strand. 

It  afterwards  appeared,  that  whenever 
Samuel  went  to  an  office  a  woman,  un- 
observed by  him,  always  walked  in  at 
the  same  time,  and  looked  about  her  as  it 


1483 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1484 


accompanying'  some  one  else  in  the  shop  ; 
and  as  soon  as  Samuel  had  done  his  busi- 
ness she  also  walked  away.  This  woman 
was  Mrs.  Pounieney,  the  aunt  of  Price's 
wife,  described  in  the  advertisement  and 
hand-bill  issued  by  the  bank.  She  con- 
stantly accompanied  Price  in  a  coach 
whenever  he  went  out,  watched  Samuel 
at  every  office,  as  soon  as  he  had  safely 
got  out  stepped  across  the  way  to  Price, 
who  was  in  the  coach,  informed  him  of 
ihe  success,  and  then  Samuel  was  hailed, 
and  Price  secured  the  property  while  she 
Kept  out  of  sight;  nor  did  Samuel  ever  see 
her  during  his  servitude.  During  his 
esidence  at  Titchfield-street,  which  was 
but  a  week,  Price  always  appeared  and 
went  out  as  Brank,  accompanied  by  Mrs. 
Pounteney.  In  case  of  any  accidental 
discovery,  she  was  ready  to  receive  the 
disguise,  so  that  Brank  might  be  instantly 
shifted  to  Price,  and  Price  to  Brank,  and 
Samuel  thereby  be  rendered  incapable  of 
identifying  the  man  that  had  employed 
him. 

On  the  Sunday  morning  after  Price's 
last  adventure,  a  coachman  inquired  for 
Samuel  at  his  old  master's,  by  whom  the 
coachman  was  informed,  that  though  Sam 
worked  he  did  not  lodge  there,  and  that 
he  should  not  see  him  till  the  next  morn- 
ing. The  coachman  held  a  parcel  in  his 
hand,  which  he  said  was  for  Samuel, 
and  which  the  master  desired  him  to  leave, 
and  he  should  have  it  the  next  day ;  the 
coachman  replied,  he  was  ordered  not  to 
leave  it,  but  to  take  it  back  in  case  he 
could  riot  see  the  man,  and  accordingly 
went  across  the  way  with  it ;  there  the 
master  saw  the  elderly  gentleman,  with 
whom  he  had  conversed  on  Samuel's  cha- 
racter a  few  days  before,  to  whom  the 
coachman  delivered  the  parcel.  Samuel's 
master  saw  this  old  gentleman  get  into  a 
coach  ;  but  in  a  minute  the  coachman 
returned  and  left  the  parcel,  which  con- 
tained notes  to  the  amount  of  three  hun- 
dred pounds,  with  a  letter  directing 
Samuel  to  buy,  on  the  next  morning,  a 
sixteenth,  an  eight  guinea  chance,  and  a 
whole  ticket,  to  repeat  his  purchases  as 
before,  till  the  whole  were  changed,  and 
to  meet  his  master,  Mr.  Brank,  at  Mill's 
coffee-house,  Gerrard-streetj  Soho,  at 
twelve  o'clock  the  next  day.  Samuel 
duly  executed  these  orders,  but,  on  inquiry 
at  the  coffee-house,  he  found  no  such 
person  as  Mr.  Brank  had  been  there ;  in 
a  few  minutes,  however,  as  he  was  stand- 
ing at  the  coffee-house  door,  a  coachman 


summoned  him  to  Mr.  Brank,  who  was 
waiting  in  a  coach  at  the  corner  of  Mac- 
clesfield-street.  He  desired  Samuel  to 
come  in,  and  made  him  sit  on  the  left 
hand,  as  before  described,  and  having 
received  the  tickets,  shares,  and  balances, 
ordered  him  to  bid  the  coachman  drive 
towards  Hampstead.  On  the  way,  he 
gave  Samuel  three  sixteenths  as  a  reward 
for  his  diligence,  and  talked  much  of 
his  ward,  who,  he  said,  would  be  in  town 
in  a  day  or  two,  when  he  would  speak 
highly  of  Samuel's  industry.  He  dis- 
coursed on  these  subjects  till  they  reached 
Mother  Black-cap's  at  Kentish-town,- and 
then  Samuel  received  orders  to  bid  the 
coachman  turn  round  ;  and,  on  their  way 
back,  Samuel  had  notes  for  five  hundred 
pounds  given  to  him,  with  directions  to 
lay  them  out  in  the  same  manner  about 
the  'Change,  and  meet  his  master  at  the 
same  place  in  the  evening,  where  he  said 
he  should  dine ;  but,  for  reasons  easily 
imagined,  Samuel  was  ordered  not  to 
make  his  purchases  at  the  offices  he  had 
been  to  before. 

Samuel,  having  performed  this  task  also, 
went  to  the  coffee-house,  where  a  porter 
accosted  him,  and  conducted  him  to  his 
master  in  a  coach  as  usual.  He  was  now 
blamed  for  his  delay,  and  an  appearance 
of  anger  assumed,  with  a  declaration,  that 
he  would  not  do  if  not  punctual,  for  that 
the  nobleman  was  very  particular  in  time, 
even  to  a  minute.  Samuel  apologized, 
and  Brank  received  the  cash  and  shares, 
and  ordered  him  to  go  to  the  New  Inn 
Westminster-bridge  and  hire  a  post-chaise 
to  carry  them  to  Greenwich  to  meet  the 
nobleman's  steward,  who  was  also  his 
banker,  to  whom  he  was  going  for  money 
to  purchase  more  tickets ;  observing,  at 
the  same  time,  on  the  imprudence  and 
prodigality  of  his  ward. 

At  Greenwich,  Samuel  was  desired  to 
go  to  the  Ship  and  order  a  dinner,  while 
Brank  was  engaged,  as  he  pretended,  in 
negociating  his  business ;  he  instructed 
him  not  to  wait  longer  than  three  o'clock, 
but  go  to  dinner  at  that  time,  if  he,  Brank, 
did  not  return.  It  was  not  till  half  past 
four  that  Brank  came  hobbling,  coughing, 
and  seemingly  quite  out  of  breath  with 
fatigue.  They  then  drank  tea  together, 
and  afterwards  returned  in  the  chaise  to 
Lombard-street,  where  it  was  discharged. 
There  Sam  received  more  notes  to  the 
amount  of  350/.,  which  he  got  rid  of  in 
the  usual  way;  and  at  the  city  coffee- 
house was  again  fortunate  enough  to  meet 


1485 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1486 


his  master  before  he  got  to  the  door. 
Brank  ordered  him  to  attend  the  next 
evening  at  his  lodgings,  which  he  accord- 
ingly did,  and  afterwards  at  three  or  four 
other  times,  in  the  course  of  which  at- 
tendance he  negociated  5001.  more  of  the 
forced  notes. 

We  now  arrive  at  the  close  of  Samuel's 
services.  In  negocialing  the  last  sum  he 
had  received,  he  went  to  Brooksbank's 
arid  Ruddle's,  where  he  was  interrogated 
as  to  whom  he  lived  with  ;  Samuel  said 
he  was  servant  to  a  very  rich  nobleman's 
guardian,  that  he  was  at  board-wages, 
and  gave  his  address  to  his  old  master, 
the  musical  instrument-maker.  Having 
delivered  Brank  the  cash,  &c.  in  the  usual 
way,  he  was  told,  that  perhaps  he  might 
not  be  wanted  again  for  a  week,  and  that 
he  might  wait  till  sent  for.  Before  the 
expiration  of  that  time,  however,  Samuel 
was  apprehended,  and  taken  to  Bow- 
street,  where  he  was  examined  by  the 
magistrates  and  gentlemen  from  the  bank; 
and  telling  his  artless  tale,  which  was 
not  believed,  he  was  committed  to 
Tothillh'elds-bridewell,  on  suspicion  of 
forgery. 

The  surprise  of  the  poor  lad  on  his 
apprehension,  his  horror  on  being  confined 
in  a  prison,  and  his  dread  of  being  ex- 
ecuted as  a  forger  of  counterfeit  bank- 
notes, were  only  equalled  by  the  astonish- 
ment of  the  directors  of  the  bank  and  the 
magistrates,  at  the  sagacity  of  the  manu- 
facturer, who  had  hitherto  evaded  every 
possibility  of  detection.  Nor  did  they 
appear  at  all  persuaded  of  Sam's  inno- 
cence, thougn  his  story  was,  in  part,  con- 
firmed by  his  former  master,  the  musical 
instrument-maker.  The  forged  note  he 
had  passed  at  Brooksbank's  and  Rud- 
dle's, where  he  had  been  interrogated, 
was  the  means  of  his  apprehension.  In 
a  day  or  two  it  was  paid  into  the  bank, 
traced  back  to  Brooksbank's  and  Ruddle's 
office,  and,  immediate  application  being 
made  to  Bow-street,  the  lad  was  taken 
into  custody. 

Samuel's  examinations  were  frequent 
and  long,  and  in  the  end  the  following 
scheme  was  laid  to  secuie  the  fabricator. 
Samuel  having  been  ordered  by  Brank  to 
stay  till  he  was  sent  for,  an  inferior  officer 
of  Bow-street  was  stationed  at  the  musical 
instrument-maker's  in  the  Strand,  where 
Samuel  worked,  in  case  Brank  should 
call  in  the  mean  time.  After  the  lapse 
of  a  few  days,  Price  sent  Samuel  a  message 
to  meet  him  the  next  day  at  Mill's 


coffee-house,  exactly  at  eleven  o'clock. 
This  was  communicated  to  Mr.  Bond, 
a  clerk  at  Bow-street  office,  who  ordered 
Samuel  to  comply,  but  not  to  go 
till  five  minutes  past  the  time.  The 
above  inferior  officer  attended  at  a  dis- 
tance, disguised  as  a  porter,  with  a  knot 
on  his  shoulder,  and  Bond,  dressed  as  a 
"  lady,"  followed  at  a  small  distance. 
When  Samuel  arrived  at  the  coffee-house 
he  found  that  a  real  porter  had  that  in- 
stant been  there  and  inquired  for  him, 
and  could  have  been  hardly  got  out  of 
the  door.  This  information  Samuel  di- 
rectly communicated  to  the  "  lady," 
(Bond  of  Bow-street,)  and  Samuel  was  sent 
back  to  wait ;  but  Brank,  in  a  hackney- 
coach  hard  by,  had  discovered  the  mo- 
mentary conversation  between  Samuel 
and  the  disguised  officers,  and  took  im- 
mediate flight.  An  instant  rush  was 
made  at  Titchfield-street,  but  in  vain  ; 
Biank  had  not  been  there  since  Samuel 
and  he  had  left  it  together,  and  the  police 
were  entirely  at  fault.  The  advertise- 
ments were  again  issued,  and  hand-bills 
were  showered  around  to  no  purpose. 
Poor  Samuel,  however,  having  tolerably 
established  his  innocence,  was,  after 
suffering  eleven  months'  imprisonment, 
discharged  with  a  present  of  twenty 
pounds. 

In  the  ensuing  lottery,  Price  played 
the  same  artful  game  with  notes  of  higher 
value  ;  those  of  20J.  and  401.  were  grown 
too  suspicious,  another  lad  had  been 
taken  into  custody,  another  rush  made, 
and  Price  was  missed  again  by  a  mo- 
ment. 

Price's  next  scheme  was  an  advertise- 
ment for  a  person  in  the  linen  drapery 
business;  and  with  notes  of  from  501.  to 
100/. two  young  men,  his  agents,purchased 
linen  drapery  at  different  shops.  They 
were  detected  by  having  passed  an  100/. 
note  to  Mr.  \Vollerton,  a  linen-draper  in 
Oxford-street,  who  recovered  the  whole 
of  his  property  through  Bond  the  officer, 
by  whom  it  was  seized  at  No  3,  on  the 
Terrace,  in  Tottenham- court-road. 

To  follow  Price  through  all  his  pro- 
ceedings would  be  impossible  :  in  No- 
vember 1782,  Mr.  Spilsbury  of  Soho- 
square,  the  proprietor  of  some  medicinal 
"  drops,"  received  a  card  bearing  the 
name  of  W7ilmott,  which  had  been  left 
by  a  person  who  had  called  at  his  house 
in  his  absence.  The  next  evening  the 
following  note  was  delivered  at  Mr. 
Spilsbury's. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


14S8 


"  Mr.  Wilmott's  complits  to  Mr.  Spilsbur. 
wishes  to  converse  with  him  10  minutes, 
having  an  Order  for  His  drops,  at  half  past 
five  o'clock  this  evening. 

"No.  17,  Gresse-street,  Rathbone-ptace" 

At  the  time  mentioned  in  the  note  Mr. 
Spilsbury  went  to  Gresse-street,  where 
he  was  shown  into  a  parlour  by  a  foot- 
boy,  and  waited  until  Mr.  Wilmott  made 
his  appearance.  He  appeared  to  be  a 
very  infirm  old  man,  in  a  ^reat  coat  and  a 
slouched  hat,  with  a  piece  of  red  flannel 
round  the  lower  part  of  his  face,  a  large 
bush-wig  on,  and  his  legs  wrapped  over 
with  flannel;  he  wore  green  spectacles, 
and  a  green  silk  shade  hanging  from  his 
hat,  but  no  patch  on  his  eye  :  this  was 
Price.  He  and  Mr.  Spilsbury  had  fre- 
quently met  at  Percy-street  coffee-house, 
Rathbone-place,  and  often  conversed 
together ;  but  on  this  occasion  Mr.  Spils- 
bury had  no  idea  or  recollection  of  his 
old  acquaintance.  As  soon  as  Price 
entered  the  parlour,  he  observed  on  his 
own  dress ;  and  said  he  had  exceedingly 
suffered  from  the  drawing  of  a  tooth  by 
an  unskilful  dentist,  and  wore  the 
flannel  on  his  face  in  order  to  avoid 
catching  cold.  He  then  familiarly  con- 
versed with  Mr.  Spilsbury,  extolled  the 
merits  of  his  "  drops,"  recounted  great 
cures  which  he  knew  they  had  performed, 
styled  himself  a  dealer  in  diamonds,  and 
dismissed  Mr.  Spilsbury  with  the  pro- 
mise of  an  order  in  a  few  days.  It 
was  evidently  postponed  to  strengthen 
Mr.  Spilsbury's  opinion  of  him,  but  at 
last  it  arrived  in  the  following  note : — 

"  Mr.  Wilmott's  compliments  to  Mr.  Spils- 
bur, desires  he  will  put  up  twelve  bottles  of 
drops  at  .3*.  6d.  against  Friday  three  o'clock, 
the  boy  will  call  and  pay  for  them,  also,  Mr. 
Spilsbur  will  send  a  copy  or  form  of  an  Ad- 
*  ertisement— and  attestation,  leaving  a  blank 
for  the  names,  the  case  was — the  man  was 
/iolently  broke  out  in  legs,  body  and  face, 
and  he  actually  had  no  other  physic  than  two 
of  the  bottles,  and  it  is  really  astonishing  how 
much  He  is  recovered. — when  Mr.  Wilmott 
comes  to  town  to-morrow  week  He  will 
send  the  voucher  authenticated  by  6  people 
of  consequence. 

"  Gresse-street,  No.  1 7.' 

The  boy  did  not  call  on  the  Friday 
mentioned  ;  but  on  the  Friday  week  he 
brought  a  letter,  in  which  Mr.Wilmott  de- 
sired Mr.  Spilsbury  to  send  two  guineas' 
worth  of  the  drops,  and  change  for  a  10/. 
bank-note,  and  to  be  particular  in  send- 


ing guineas  of  good  weight.  The  bank- 
note appeared  to  be  a  new  one,  change 
was  got  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  the 
drops  sent ;  and  the  next  note  Mr.  Spils- 
bury received  was  from  Sir  Sampson 
Wright,  desiring  his  attendance  at  Bow- 
street,  where,  to  his  astonishment,  he  was 
informed  of  the  forgery.  He  related  the 
preceding  particulars  to  the  magistrate, 
and  produced  the  two  letters.  The  officers 
paid  an  immediate  visit  to  Gresse-street, 
but  old  Mr.  Wilmott  had  previously 
departed. 

Not  long  after  this,  Mr.  Spilsbury  met 
his  acquaintance,  Mr.  Price,  at  the  Percy- 
street  coffee-house ;  and  there,  drinking 
his  chocolate,  and  talking  over  the  occur- 
rences of  the  day,  Mr.  Spilsbury  told  the 
foregoing  story  to  his  coffee-house  ac- 
quaintance, while  Price  every  now  and 
then  called  out  "  Lack  a  day  !  Good  God  ! 
who  could  conceive  such  knavery  could 
exist !  What,  and  did  the  bank  refuse 
payment,  sir  ?"  "  O  yes,"  said  Mr.  Spils- 
bury, with  some  degree  of  acrimony ; 
"  though  it  is  on  the  faith  of  the  bank  of 
England  that  I  and  a  great  many  others 
have  taken  them,  and  they  are  so  inimi- 
tably executed,  that  the  nicest  judges  can- 
not detect  them."  "  Good  God  !"  said 
Price,  "  he  must  have  been  an  ingenious 
villain ! — What  a  complete  old  scoundrel!" 

It  is  related,  that  when  the  celebrated 
artist  William  Wrynn  Ryland  was  to  be 
executed  for  forging  an  East-india  bond, 
Price  intreated  the  use  of  a  dining-room 
window  in  Oxford-street,  at  the  house  of 
a  gentleman  whom  he  had  defrauded  in 
the  same  manner  he  had  done  Mr.  Spils- 
bury ;  and  Price  was  present  when  Ryland 
passed  to  Tyburn,  and  on  that  occa- 
sion pointed  to  Ryland,  saying  "  There 
goes  one  of  the  most  ingenious  men  in 
the  world,  but  as  wicked  as  he  is  ingenious 
— he  is  the  identical  man  who  has  done 
all  the  mischief  in  the  character  of  Patch  : 
he  deserves  his  fate,  and  he  would  confess 
the  fact,  if  he  was  not  in  hopes  of  a 
respite ;  which  he  would  have  obtained, 
perhaps,  had  not  the  directors  been  cer- 
tain that  it  was  charity  to  the  public  to 
let  him  suffer." 

Mention  has  already  been  made  of  the 
fraud  practised  by  Price  on  Mr.  R.  of 
Knightsbridge.  One  in  a  family  was  not 
enough  for  him,  and  Mr.  R's  brother,  who 
lived  in  Oxford-street,  experienced  the 
effect  of  Price's  ingenuity  in  crime.  Price 
had  been  often  there,  and  bought  a  variety 
of  things,  and  was  perfectly  well  known 


.489 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1490 


in  his  real  person,  and  by  his  proper 
name.  One  day,  however,  a  hackney- 
coach  carried  him  thither  disguised  as  an 
old  man,  and  in  that  character  he  made 
some  purchases.  In  a  day  or  two  he 
repeated  his  visit,  and  on  a  third  day, 
when  he  knew  Mr.  R.  was  from  home,  he 
went  again  with  his  face  so  coloured  that 
he  seemed  in  a  deep  jaundice.  The 
shopman,  to  whom  he  was  full  of  com- 
plaints, told  him  that  he  had  a  receipt  for 
that  disorder,  which  had  cured  his  father 
of  it,  and  offered  him  the  prescription. 
Price  accepted  it,  and  promised  that  if 
it  succeeded  he  would  liberally  reward 
him.  In  a  few  days,  he  again  appeared 
before  the  shopman  perfectly  freed  from 
the  complaint,  and  acknowledging  his  great 
obligations  to  him,  said  he  had  but  a  short 
time  to  live  in  the  world,  and  having  very 
few  relations  to  leave  any  thing  to, 
he  begged  his  acceptance  of  a  501.  bank- 
note, at  the  same  time,  he  said,  he  wanted 
cash  for  another.  Mr.  R.  not  being  in 
the  way,  the  grateful  shopman  stepped 
out,  and  got  change  for  it.  The  next  day 
Price  having  watched  Mr.  R's  going  out, 
prevailed  on  the  lad  to  take  five  other  5QL 
notes  to  his  master's  banker,  and  there 
get  them  changed  for  smaller  ones. 
Price's  notes  soon  got  to  the  bank,  and 
of  course  were  stopped.  They  were  traced 
to  Mr.  R's.  His  lad  was  interrogated, 
and  as  Mr.  R.  positively  refused  to  pay 
the  250J.  to  his  bankers,  they  brought  an 
action  against  him,  which  was  tried  in  the 
court  of  common  pleas,  before  Lord 
Loughborough,  and  the  bankers  obtained 
a  verdict.  The  most  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances pending  the  suit  were,  that 
Mr.  R.  communicated  the  story  to 
Price,  who  offered  him  all  the  assistance 
in  his  power,  and  became  a  principal 
agent  in  the  defence.  He  was,  of  all 
others,  the  most  active  in  procuring  wit- 
nesses for  Mr.  R.,  and  actually  attended 
the  trial,  without  the  least  suspicion,  on 
the  part  of  any  individual  concerned,  that 
he  was  the  perpetrator  of  the  mis- 
chief. 

It  is  an  extraordinary  and  almost  incre- 
dible fact,  that  during  a  period  of  six  years, 
five  of  which  had  elapsed  after  the  remark- 
able advertisement  issued  at  the  instance 
of  the  bank  in  December  1780,  Price 
committed  depredations  of  this  nature  on 
the  public  with  impunity.  The  decep- 
tions by  which  he  circulated  his  forged 
notes  through  so  long  a  period,  were  as 
varied  as  the  nature  of  each  new  cir- 


cumstance required.  At  last  he  turned 
another  species  of  forgery,  equally  artful, 
and,  for  a  time,  equally  successful.  He 
went  to  the  coffee-houses  near  the  Royal 
Exchange  in  a  new  disguise,  and  there 
was  accustomed  to  get  a  boy  to  take  a 
sum  of  10/.  to  the  bank,  with  directions 
to  receive  from  the  teller  the  customary 
ticket  to  the  cashier  who  pays ;  but  the 
lad  had  his  especial  orders  not  to  go  to 
the  cashier  for  the  money,  as  the  teller  is 
accustomed  to  direct,  but  as  soon  as  the 
boy  was  out  of  the  teller's  sight  lie  was  to 
turn  another  way,  and.  bring  the  ticket 
to  Price  at  the  coffee-house.  There  Price 
used  to  alter  the  teller's  tickets  from  1 OL 
to  1007.  by  adding  an  0,  or  by 
placing  a  1  before  any  other  sum  where 
the  addition  was  easy,  so  as  to  make  50 
into  150,  &c.,  and  then  send  the  tickets 
by  other  hands  to  the  cashiers,  who  paid 
the  increased  sums  unsuspectedly. 

This  scheme  was  his  last.  One  of  the 
notes  he  had  received  at  the  bank,  on  a 
forged  ticket,  he  had  passed  at  Mr.  Al- 
dous's,  a  pawn-broker  in  Berwick-street, 
where  he  was  known  by  the  name  of 
Powel,  and  went  two  or  three  times  a 
week  to  pledge  things  of  value.  An 
officer  was  placed  at  Mr.  Aldous's  till 
his  next  call,  which  was  the  next  day  but 
one,  when  he  was  secured  and  carried 
to  Bow-street.  His  behaviour  there 
was  exceedingly  insolent.  Mr.  Bond, 
who,  when  Price  kept  a  lottery-office  in 
King-street,  Covent-garden,  was  clerk  at 
Bow-street,  had  visited  him  on  account 
of  some  money  due  to  Sir  John  Fielding's 
maid  servant,  gained  by  insuring  with 
Price,  which  he  had  refused  to  pay  her ; 
but  when  informed  by  Mr.  Bond  who 
her  master  was,  he  waited  on  Sir  John, 
and  satisfied  her  claim.  He  now  taxed 
Mr.  Bond,  who  had  been  made  a  magi- 
strate, with  prejudice  against  him  on 
account  of  the  insurance  affair,  and  com- 
plained that  he  should  not  have  justice 
done  him.  He  also  urged  against  Mr. 
Abraham  Newland,  esq.,  principal  cashier 
of  the  bank,  that  he  could  expect  nothing 
from  him  but  every  possible  injury,  on 
account  of  some  former  antipathy  that 
gentleman  had  conceived  towards  him ; 
and  he  imputed  desire  of  revenge  to  every 
individual  whose  duty  it  was  to  render 
him  amenable  to  justice. 

When  under  examination,  the  chief 
magistrate,  Sir  Sampson  Wright,  suddenly 
called  out  "  Sam  ;  *  the  young  man  im- 
mediately answered,  and  at  the  same 


1491 


THE  EVERY-DAv-  BOOK.— LOTTERI ES. 


1492 


moment  appeared  before  his  old  master, 
\vho  started  as  at  a  ghost ;  but,  recollect- 
ing himself,  made  a  polite  bow  to  his 
former  servant,  with  a  view  either  to 
awaken  his  sympathy,  or  to  hint  at  what 
he  might  expect  if  he  disclaimed  him. 
Samuel,  however,  could  only  swear  to  his 
voice,  for  he  had  not  the  least  idea  of  his 
person  or  features.  Price  was  committed 
toTothill  elds-bridewell,  where  he  turned 
his  thoughts  to  the  destruction  of  the  im- 
plements. Well  knowing  that  nothing 
could  be  extracted  from  Mrs.  Price,  or 
any  of  his  family,  to  affect  him,  he  had 
declared,  when  under  examination,  that 
he  lived  with  them  at  a  cheesemon- 
ger's in  the  neighbourhood  of  Totten- 
ham-court-road ;  and  he  was  equally 
secure  that  nothing  could  be  found  there 
to  afford  the  least  suspicion  of  his  being 
the  forger  described  under  the  character 
of  Patch.  His  next  step  was  to  obtain 
an  interview  with  Mrs.  Price  and  his 
eldest  son,  a  youth  about  fifteen  years  of 
age.  To  his  wife's  great  surprise,  he 
communicated  to  her  the  secret  of  his  lodg- 
ings, and  the  circumstances  respecting 
her  aunt.  He  wrote  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Pounteney,  informing  her  of  his  situation, 
and  desiring  her  instantly  to  destroy  every 
atom  of  the  apparatus,  clothes,  &c. ;  he 
tore  up  the  inner  sole  of  his  son's  shoe, 
and  putting  the  letter  under,  it  passed  safe. 

When  Mrs.  Pounteney  received  the 
letter,  she  burnt  every  article  of  clothes  in 
which  Price  had  disguised  himself,  and 
sent  for  a  carpenter,  to  whom  he  had 
never  been  visible,  to  take  down  the  wood 
frame,  presses,  and  other  instruments  with 
which  Price  had  made  his  paper,  and 
printed  off  his  notes.  While  the  maid 
•was  gone  for  the  carpenter,  her  mistress 
put  the  copper-plates  into  the  fire,  and, 
rendering  them  pliable,  reduced  them  to 
small  pieces.  These,  w'ith  a  large  bundle 
of  small  wires,  used  in  the  manutacture  of 
the  paper  and  water-marks,  she  desired 
Price's  son  to  take  to  the  adjacent  fields, 
and  there  distribute  them  beneath  the 
dust  heaps  ;  and  the  pieces  lay  there  till, 
by  a  stratagem,  they  were  discovered  and 
brought  to  Bow-street.  The  carpenter 
took  down  the  apparatus,  and  being  paid 
and  despatched,  every  thing  was  brought 
down  and  reduced  to  ashes. 

Throughout  Price's  examinations,  his 
assurance  was  the  most  remarkable  fea- 
ture in  his  conduct ;  but  the  audacity  by 
which  he  sought  to  baffle  his  accusers  was 
so  reckless,  as  to  disclose  a  circumstance 


which  largely  added  to  the  grounds  for 
believing  him  to  be  the  criminal  who  had 
so  long  eluded  justice.  From  the  extreme 
art  he  had  adopted  to  effectually  disguise 
his  person,  while  committing  Ins  enormous 
frauds,  there  was  no  connected  proof  of 
his  identity.  Long  before  his  apprehen- 
sion, he  had  hazarded  experiments  to  dis- 
cover whether  his  disguises  were  effectual. 
He  would  go  to  the  coffee-houses  about 
the  'Change,  where  he  was  thoroughly 
well  known  as  Mr.  Price,  and  in  his  real 
character  inquire  for  Mr.  Norton,  write  a 
letter,  and  leave  it  at  the  bar.  In  ten 
minutes  he  would  return  as  Mr.  Norton, 
receive  the  letter,  and  drink  his  coffee. 
While  in  Tothillfields-bridewell,  a  boy 
who  had  more  than  once  taken  cash  for 
him  to  the  tellers  at  the  bank,  together 
with  the  boy's  mother,  who  had  also  seen 
him,  were  conveyed  to  the  prison  to  view 
him.  The  boy  could  not  at  all  identify 
him  :  the  mother  was  more  positive,  but 
still  the  proof  was  deemed  scarcely  suffi- 
cient to  convict  him.  He  had  pledged 
things  of  value  several  times,  under  the 
name  of  Powel,  with  Mr.  Aldous.  Mrs. 
Pounteney  had  done  the  same  in  the 
character  of  Mrs.  Powel.  They  had  talked 
of  each  other,  and  each  of  them  had 
at  different  times  pledged  the  same  atti- 
cle ;  yet  Price  on  his  examination  denied 
the  least  knowledge  of  her;  impu- 
dently threatened  to  bring  actions  for 
false  imprisonment;  and  ridiculing  the 
officers  for  not  finding  a  ten  pound  note 
in  his  fob,  under  his  watch,  when  he  was 
searched,  he  heedlessly  produced  it — this 
identical  note  was  one  of  the  notes  de- 
livered by  the  cashier  upon  a  teller's  tic- 
ket which  Price  had  forged  ! 

Price  had  been  brought  up  three  times 
for  the  purpose  of  being  viewed,  and  his 
sagacity  perceived  the  impossibility  of  his 
escaping  the  hand  of  justice.  He  told 
the  keeper  he  had  been  "  betrayed"  but 
this  was  not  the  fact.  Meditating  to 
avoid  a  public  execution,  he  informed  his 
son  that  the  people  of  the  prison  came  in- 
to his  room  sooner  than  he  wished  ;  and 
that  he  had  something  secret  to  write, 
which  they  might  get  at  by  suddenly  com- 
ing upon  him,  which  he  wished  to  pre- 
vent. On  this  pretence  he  gave  his 
son  money  to  purchase  two  gimblets  and 
a  sixpenny  cord,  pointing  out  to  him 
how  he  would  fasten  the  gimblets  in  the 
post,  and  tie  the  cord  across  the  door, 
which  opened  inwards.  The  poor  youth 
obtained  the  implements,  and  Price  hav 


1493 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK, -LOTTERIES. 


ing  fastened  the  gimblets  under  two  hat 
screws,  was  discovered  banging  in  his 
room,  without  coat  or  shoes,  on  the  25th 
of  January,  1786. 

Under  his  waistcoat  were  found  three 
papers.  One  was  a  petition  to  the  king, 
praying  protection  for  his  wife  and  eight 
children;  all  of  whom,  he  said,  had  never 
offended  ;  and  stating,  that  he  had  written 
a  pamphlet  with  a  view  to  prevent  a  war 
between  the  crowns  of  England  and  Den- 
mark, and  to  rescue  the  character  of  queen 
Matilda  from  the  aspersions  of  the  queen 
dowager's  party.  The  second  was  a  letter 
of  thanks  to  Mr.  Fenwick,  the  keeper  of 
the  prison,  for  his  indulgence  and  favours. 
The  third  was  a  letter  to  his  wife,  wherein 
he  begged  her  forgiveness  for  the  injuries  he 
had  done  her,  and  intreated  her  attention 
to  their  offspring.  In  these  papers,  written 
with  his  dying  hand,  the  guilty  man  solemn- 
ly denied  every  thing  laid  to  his  charge ! 

Immediately  upon  Price's  self-destruc- 
tion, his  unhappy  wife,  who  had  been  in- 
nocent of  his  iniquities,  was  urged  to  dis- 
cover the  woman  with  whom  he  had  been 
connected.  She  was  assured,  that  though 
the  verdict  of  a  coroner's  inquest  must  be 
formally  complied  with,  yet,  if  she  ren- 
dered this  act  of  justice  to  the  country,  his 
remains  might  afterwards  receive  Christian 
burial.  Her  son  was  present  and  added 
his  intreaties  thai  she  would  tell,  or  suffer 
him  to  tell,  who  and  where  the  woman 
was ;  the  feelings  of  the  widow  and  the  mo- 
ther prevailed,  and  she  communicated  the 
residence  of  her  depraved  aunt,  who, 
on  being  taken  into  custody,  disclosed 
severa.1  of  the  circumstances  attending  the 
destruction  and  concealment  of  the 
presses  and  implements.  What  remained 
of  them  were  destroyed  by  the  police,  and 
she  was  delivered  out  of  custody  to  the 
punishment  of  her  own  thoughts.  It  was 
afterwards  ascertained,  on  a  second  search, 
that  she  had  not  discovered  all  the  ma- 
chinery. The  frame  with  which  Price  had 
made  his  paper  was  produced  to  her,  and 
she  was  asked  what  it  was :  "  It  is  an  in- 
strument," she  said,  "  1  use  for  mang- 
ling." An  answer  which  may  be  taken 
as  evidence,  that  notwithstanding  the  ex- 
ample of  Price  might  have  taught  her  the 
folly  of  wickedness,  and  though  she  her- 
self had  escaped  by  the  sufferance  of  ex- 
treme mercy,  her  mind  was  still  disposed 
to  evil. 

Price  was  buried  in  the  cross-roads,  but, 
in  about  a  week,  his  body  was  privately 
removed  by  night. 


These  particulars  of  Price  are  more  nu- 
merous, and  the  account  of  him  is  more 
diffuse,  than  might  be  expected  n  con- 
nection with  the  lottery  ;  but  as  he  was 
too  remarkable  to  have  been  omitted 
among  its  incidents,  so  his  criminal 
career  was  too  flagitious  and  notorious 
to  be  lightly  passed  over  when  he  was 
mentioned  at  all. 

Price's  lottery-office,  in  King-street, 
Covent-garden,  was  the  house  now  (in 
1826)  occupied  by  Mr.  Setchell,  the  book- 
seller. On  part  of  the  wall  where  Mr. 
Setchell's  shutters  are  placed,  there  are  re- 
mains of  Price's  lottery-bills  still  visible. 


LOTTERY  SUICIDE  AND  HEARTBREAKING. 

The  "  Gentleman's  Magazine"  of  1 787 
inserts  what  is  called  "  a  copy  of  a  paper 
left  by  the  unhappy  young  gentleman  who 
lately  shot  himself  with  two  pistols  in 
Queen-street,  Westminster,"  wherein  he 
execrates  "  the  head  that  planned,  and  the 
heart  that  executed,  the  baneful,  destruc- 
tive plan  of  a  Lottery." 

The  same  year,  in  a  debate  in  the  house 
of  commons  on  a  bill  then  passing  to  pre- 
vent insurance,  Mr.  Francis  said  his  own 
family  furnished  a  striking  instance  of  the 
dreadful  effects  of  a  passion  for  this  ruin- 
ous practice.  He  had  given,  &t  different 
times,  to  a  female  servant  sums  of  money 
to  the  amount  of  two  hundred  pounds,  to 
discharge  tradesmen's  bills ;  and,  to  his 
great  surprise,  he  found  afterwards  that, 
regardless  of  his  character,  or  her  own, 
she  had  risked  the  entire  sum  in  insuring 
in  the  lottery,  and  had  lost  it.  He  would 
have  been  glad  had  the  loss  of  money- 
been  the  only  one,  for  he  would  have 
taken  it  upon  himself ;  but  the  poor  wo- 
man lost  her  life  within  a  week  after  this 
discovery  had  been  made,  dying  broken- 
hearted and  distracted. 


SHARING  A  PRIZE. 

In  the  Lottery  of  1788  a  guinea  share 
of  a  ticket  drawn  a  20,OOOJ.  prize  had 
been  duly  registered  by  Shergold  and  Co. 
who  sold  it,  and  acquainted  the  holder  by 
letter  that  it  entitled  him  to  1500/.  This 
lucky  man,  who  lived  in  the  country,  at- 
tended his  club  the  same  evening,  and  im- 
parted the  good  news  he  had  received. 
His  joy,  however,  was  considerably 
damped  by  a  person  present,  who  assured 
him  that  he  never  would  be  paid— that 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOR.— LOTTERIES. 


1496 


his  prize  was  not  worth-  a  groat,  and  that 
ho  himself  knew  one  who  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  lottery  had  a  half  guinea  share 
a  prize  of  20,0007.  and  was  entitled  to 
700/.,  but  was  glad  to  compromise  it  for 
601.  After  reciting  a  variety  of  circum- 
stances to  the  same  effect,  and  cunningly 
working  up  alarm  to  the  highest  pitch,  he 
at  length  told  the  owner  of  the  prize,  that 
he  knew  some  of  the  proprietors  in  Sher- 
gold's  house,  and  he  believed  he  might  be 
able  to  get  some  money  where  another 
could  get  none  ;  he  would  therefore  ven- 
ture to  give  100/.  for  the  prize.  This  pro- 
posal being  rejected,  he  advanced  to  200/. 
from  thence  to  300/.  and  at  last  to  600/., 
•vbich  was  accepted.  He  accordingly 
paid  the  money  to  the  unfortunate  fortu- 
nate adventurer,  got  possession  of  the 
prize,  and  immediately  set  off  for  Lon- 
don, and  received  the  1500/.  without  dif- 
ficulty. Several  eminent  lawyers,  on  con- 
sidering the  misrepresentations  used  in 
this  transaction,  were  of  opinion,  that  it 
was  what  is  termed  a  catching  bargain, 
and  advised  the  owner,  who  was  cozened 
out  of  900/.,  to  apply  to  equity  for  relief.* 
He  seems  to  have  been  afraid  of  the  re- 
medy ;  for,  though  he  took  counsel's 
opinion,  it  does  not  appear  that  he  fol- 
lowed it  into  cbancery. 


At  the  Hay  market  theatre,  in  1791,  a 
comedy,  called  the  "  School  for  Arro- 
gance," was  produced  with  a  prologue 
spoken  in  the  character  of  a  news-hawker, 
with  the  Lottery  as  one  of  the  topics  of 
intelligence. 

After  sounding,  and  calling  "  Great 
News  /"  ivithout ;  he  enters  with  a 
postman's  horn,  newspapers,  cap  and 
livery. 

Great  news !  here's  money  lent  on  bond,  rare 

news ! 

By  honest,  tender-hearted,  Christian  jews  ! 
Here  are  promotions,  dividends,  rewards, 
A  list  of  bankrupts,  and  of  new  made  lords. 
Here  the  debates  at  length  are,  for  the  week  ; 
And  here  the  deaf  and  dumb  are  taught  to 

speak. 
Here    Hazard,    Goodluck,   Shergold,   and   a 

band 

Of  $en'rous  gentlemen,  whose  hearts  expand 
With  honour,  rectitude,  and  public  spirit, 
Equal  in  high  desert,  with  equal  merit, 


Divide  their  tickets  into  shares  and  quarters' 
And  here's  a  servant-maid  found   hanging  in 

her  garters ! 
Here  !  here's  the  fifty  thousand,  sold  at  ev'ry 

shop! 
And  here's  the   "  Newgate  Calendar" — and 

drop. 
Rare    news  I    strange    news !    extraordinary 

news ! 
Who    would    not    give    three    halfpence    to 

peruse  1 

Shergolds  seem  to  have  persisted  in  a 
course  of  attempts  to  evade  the  law,  by  a 
peculiar  mode  of  dividing  and  insuring 
tickets;  but  in  Michaelmas  term,  1791, 
the  question  was  argued  in  the  court  of 
King's-bench  on  a  special  verdict,  whether 
the  sellers  of  their  receipts  were  liable  to 
be  apprehended  and  committed  as  va- 
grants under  the  Lottery  act,  and  the  court 
determined,  that  they  were  vagrants 
within  the  true  intent  of  the  act. 


INSURING. 

In  February,  1 793,  the  commissioners 
of  the  Lottery,  in  order  to  abate  insuring, 
determined  that  no  persons  should  be  suf- 
fered to  take  down  numbers,  except  the 
clerks  of  licensed  offices  known  to  the 
commissioners  :  no  slips  were  to  be  sent 
out ;  but  the  numbers  were  to  be  taken 
down  by  one  clerk  in  one  book ;  Steel's 
list  of  lottery  numbers  was  to  be  abolished, 
and  a  recompence  made  for  it ;  and  the 
magistrates  resolved  to  apprehend  all  sus- 
picious persons  who  should  be  seen  tak- 
ing early  numbers.* 

Yet,  in  1796,  we  find  "  a  class  of 
sharpers,  who  take  Lottery  Insurances," 
and  that  this  gambling,  among  the  higher 
and  middling  ranks,  was  carried  on  to  an 
extent  exceeding  all  credibility,  producing 
consequences  to  many  private  families,  of 
great  worth  and  respectability,  of  the 
most  distressing  nature. — Mr.  Colquhoun 
represents  them  as  "  a  class,  in  general, 
of  very  depraved  or  distressed  characters, 
who  keep  unlicensed  insurance  offices, 
during  the  drawing  of  the  English  and 
Irish  Lotteries  ;"  many  of  whom,  during 
the  intervals  of  such  lotteries,  had  recently 
invented  and  set  up  private  lotteries,  or 
wheels,  called  little  goes,  containing 
blanks  and  prizes,  which  were  drawn  for 
the  purpose  of  establishing  a  ground  for 
insurance,  and  producing  incalculable 
mischiefs,  inasmuch  as  the  rage  and 


*  Town  and  Country  Magazine. 


*  Universal  Magasin*. 


U97 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.—LOTTERIES. 


1498 


mania  were  so  rooted,  from  habit  and  a 
spirit  of  gaming,  that  no  domestic  pres- 
sure, and  no  consideration,  connected 
either  with  the  frauds  that  were  practised, 
or  the  number  of  chances  against  them, 
would  operate  as  a  check  upon  the  minds 
of  the  infatuated.  The  criminal  agents 
felt  no  want  of  customers.  TJ.*,  houses 
and  offices  were  not  only  extremely  nu- 
merous all  over  the  metropolis,  but  in 
general  high  rented,  exhibiting  the  ap- 
pearance of  considerable  expense,  and 
barricadoed  in  such  a  manner  with  iron 
doors  and  other  contrivances  as,  in  many 
instances,  to  defy  the  arm  of  the  law.  A 
considerable  portion  of  their  emoluments 
was  traced  to  have  been  derived  from 
menial  servants  in  general ;  but  particu- 
larly the  male  and  female  domestics  in  the 
houses  of  men  of  fashion  and  fortune, 
who  were  said,  almost  without  a  single 
exception,  to  be  in  the  constant  habit  of 
insuring  in  the  English  and  Irish  Lot- 
teries. 

Such  persons,  with  a  spirit  of  gambling 
rendered  more  ardent  than  prevails  in 
common  life,  from  the  example  of  their  su- 
periors, and  from  their  idle  and  dissipated 
habits,  entered  keenly  into  the  Lottery 
business ;  and  when  ill  luck  attended 
them  were  often  led,  step  by  step,  to  that 
point  \\here  they  lost  sight  of  moral  prin- 
ciple, and  were  impelled,  by  desire  of  re- 
gaining what  they  had  lost,  to  sell  or 
pawn  the  property  of  their  masters, 
whenever  it  could  be  pilfered  so  as  to 
elude  detection  ;  and  this  species  of  pecu- 
lation sometimes  terminated  in  more  atro- 
cious crimes. 

The  insurance  offices  in  the  metropolis 
exceeded  four  hundred  in  number.  To 
many  of  them  persons  were  attached, 
called  Morocco  Men*  who  went  from 
house  to  house  among  their  customers,  or 
attended  in  the  back  parlours  of  public- 
houses,  where  they  were  met  by  them  to 
make  insurances. 

It  was  calculated,  that  at  these  offices 
(exclusive  of  what  was  done  at  the  licen- 
sed offices)  insurances  were  made  to  the 
extent  of  eight  hundred  thousand  pounds, 
in  premiums  during  the  Irish  Lottery,  and 
above  one  million  during  the  English ; 
upon  which  it  was  calculated  that  they 
made  from  fifteen  to  twenty-five  per  cent, 
profit.  This  confederacy,  during  the  Eng- 
lish Lottery  of  the  year  1796,  supported 
about  2000  agents  and  clerks,  and  nearly 
7500  Morocco  men,  including  a  consider- 
able number  of  rujians  and  bludgeon  men, 


paid  by  a  general  association  of  the 
principal  proprietors  of  the  establish- 
ments, who  regularly  met  in  committee, 
in  a  well-known  public-house  in  Oxford- 
market,  twice  or  thrice  a  week,  during 
the  drawing  of  the  lottery,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  concerting  measures  to  defeat  the 
exertions  of  the  magistrates,  by  forcibly 
resisting  or  bribing  the  officers  of  justice^ 


The  Lottery  was  declared  to  be  inse~ 
parable  from  illegal  insurances,  by  the 
parliamentary  reports  of  1807;  and  they 
further  state,  that  "  the  Lottery  is  so  radi- 
cally vicious,  that  under  no  system  of  re- 
gulations which  can  be  devised  will  it  be 
possible  for  parliament  to  adopt  it  as  an 
efficient  source  of  revenue,  and  at  the  same 
time  divest  it  of  all  the  evils  and  calami- 
ties of  which  it  has  hitherto  been  so  bane- 
ful a  source."  Among  these  evils  and 
calamities,  the  committees  of  parliament 
enumerate  that  "  idleness,  dissipation, 
and  poverty,  were  increased, — the  most 
sacred  and  confidential  trusts  were  be- 
trayed— domestic  comfort  was  destroyed 
— madness  was  often  created — suicide 
itself  was  produced — and  crimes  subject- 
ing the  perpetrators  of  them  to  death  were 
committed." 


LITTLE  GOES. 

These  were  little  Lotteries  on  the  same 
plan  as  the  great  State  Lotteries,  and 
drawn  in  the  same  manner.  There  were 
generally  five  or  six  ««  little  goe^"  in  the 
year,  and  they  were  actually  set  up  and 
conducted  by  two  or  three  of  the  licensed 
lottery-office  keepers.  The  State  Lottery 
was  the  parent  of  these  "  little  goes/' 
Persons  who  had  not  patience  to  wait  till 
another  State  Lottery  gambled  during  the 
vacations  in  a  "  little  go."  A  "  little 
go"  was  never  heard  of  during  the  State 
Lotteries.* 


THE  GREAT  Go. 

Sir  Nathaniel  Conant,  who  in  1816 
was  chief  magistrate  of  the  police  esta- 
blishment at  Bow-street,  stated  in  that 
year  to  a  committee  of  the  house  of 
commons,  that  the  Lottery  was  one  of  the 
predisposing  causes  by  which  the  people 
of  the  metropolis  were  vitiated ;  that  it 


*  Report  of  Committee  of  House  of  Commons  OB 
Lotteries,  1808. 


1499 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1500 


led  to  theft,  to  supply  losses  and  disap- 
pointments, occasioned  by  speculating  on 
;ts  chances ;  and  that  illegal  insurances 
continued  to  be  effected  : — "  there  are," 
he  says,  "  people  in  the  back  ground  who 
having  got  40,  or  50,000/.  by  that,  employ 
people  of  the  lowest  order,  and  give  them 
a  commission  for  what  they  bring;  there 
is  a  wheel  within  a  ivheel."  Another 
magistrate,giving  evidence  before  the  sama 
committee,  said,  "  it  is  a  scandal  to  the 
government  thus  to  excite  people  to 
practice  the  vice  of  gaming,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  drawing  a  revenue  from  their 
ruin  :  it  is  an  anomalous  proceeding  by 
law  to  declare  gambling  infamous,  to 
hunt  out  petty  gamblers  in  their  recesses, 
and  cast  them  into  prison,  and  by  law 
also  to  set  up  the  giant  gambling  of  the 
State  Lottery,  and  encourage  persons  to 
resort  to  it  by  the  most  captivating 
devices  which  ingenuity,  uncontrolled  by 
moral  rectitude,  can  invent."* 


CONCLUSION. 

Incredible  efforts  were  made  in  the 
summer  of  1826  to  keep  the  "  last  lottery" 
on  its  legs.  The  price  of  tickets  was 
arbitrarily  raised,  to  induce  a  belief  that 
they  were  in  great  demand  at  the  very 
moment  when  their  sale  was  notoriously 
at  a  stand  ;  and  the  lagging  attention  of  the 
public  of  the  metropolis  was  endeavoured 
to  be  quickened,  by  all  sorts  of  stratagems, 
to  the  18th  of  July,  as  the  very  last  chance 
that  would  occur  in  England  of  gaining 
"Six  30,000/.  besides  other  Capitals/' 
which  it  was  positively  affirmed  were 
"  all  to  be  drawn"  on  that  fatal  day. 
Besides  the  dispersion  of  innumerable 
bills,  and  the  aspersions  on  government 
relative  to  the  approaching  extinction  of 
the  Lottery,  the  parties  interested  in  its 
preservation  caused  London  and  its  en- 
virons to  be  paraded  by  the  following 

Procession. 

1.  Three   men  in  liveries,  scarlet  and 
gold. 

2.  Six   men    bearing  boards   at   their 
backs  and  on  their  breasts,  with  inscrip- 
tions in  blue  and  gold,  "All  Lotteries  end 
Tuesday  next,  six  30,000/." 

3.  Band  of  trumpets,  clarionets,  horns, 


*  Report  of  Police  Committee  of  House  of  Com- 
mons 1816. 


4.  A  large  purple  silk  banner  carried 
by  six  men,  inscribed  in  large  gold  letters 
"All  Lotteries  end  for  ever  on  Tuesday 
next,  six  30,OOOZ." 

5.  A  painted  carriage,  representing  the 
Lottery   wheel,   drawn    by    two  dappled 
grey   horses,   tandem    fashion;   the    fore 
horse  rode  by  a  postillion  in  scarlet  and 
gold,  with  a  black  velvet  cap,  and  a  boy 
seated  in  a  dickey  behind  the  machine, 
turning  the  handle  and  setting  the  wheel 
in  motion. 

G.  Six  men  with  other  Lottery  labels. 

7.  A    square    Lottery    carriage,    sur- 
mounted by  a  gilt  imperial  crown ;  the 
carriage    covered    by  labels,   with    "All 
Lotteries  end  on  Tuesday  next;"  drawn 
by  two  horses,  tandem,  and  a  postillion. 

8.  Six  men  with  labels. 

9.  Twelve  men  in  blue  and  gold,  with 
boards  or  poles  with  "  Lotteries  end  for 
ever  on  Tuesday  next." 

10.  A  large  purple  silk  flag,  with  "  all 
Lotteries  end  on  Tuesday  next." 

This  procession  with  its  music  drew  the 
heads  of  the  servant  maids  from  the 
windows  in  every  suburb  of  the  metro- 
polis, and  was  followed  by  troops  of 
boys,  till  they  tired  on  its  frequency.  It 
sometimes  stopped,  and  a  man  with  a 
bell  cried  "  O  yes !"  and  "  God  save  the 
king!"  and,  between  the  two, proclaimed, 
in  set  words,  the  "  death  of  the  Lottery  on 
Tuesday  next !"  The  event  was  likewise 
announced  as  certain  in  all  the  newspa- 
pers, and  by  cart-loads  of  bills  showered 
down  areas,  and  thrust  under  knockers; 
when,  behold,  "  the  Lords  of  the  Trea- 
sury were  pleased  to  order"  the  final 
drawing  to  be  postponed  to  Thursday  the 
1 8th  of  October ;  but  all  the  good  peo- 
ple so  informed  were  wisely  unin- 
formed, that  this  "  order"  was  obtained 
by  the  lottery-office  folks,  to  give  them  a 
long  day  to  get  rid  of  their  unsold  tickets. 

After  this,  the  streets  were  cavalcaded 
by  men,  whose  bodies  were  concealed 
between  long  boards  on  each  side  of  their 
horses  (as  represented  in  the  engraving 
on  page  1407)  to  announce  the  next 
"  last  of  the  Lottery  on  the  18th  of 
October"  aforesaid ;  and  men  on  foot 
walked  with  labels  on  their  breasts  and 
backs,  with  the  same  never-dying  intelh 
gence,  according  to  the  further  figure  in 
the  engraving  of  the  lottery  wheel  (on 
page  1439,)  which  cut,  it  may  be  here  ob- 
served, represents  one  of  the  government 
wheels,  and  the  sledge  it  was  drawn  upon 
fora  Somerset-house  to  Coopers'-hall,  at 


1501 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1502 


the  commencement  of  the  drawing  of 
every  Loitery  ;  on  which  occasion  there 
were  four  horses  to  each  wheel,  and  about 
a  dozen  horse-guards  to  protect  the  instru- 
ments of  Mm-Fortune. 


But  the  most  pageant-like  machine  was 
an  octagon  frame  work,  covered  by 
printed  Lottery  placards  (as  exhibited  in 
the  engraving  on  page  1405)  with  a  single 
horse,  and  a  driver,  and  a  guard-like  seat 
at  the  back.  When  drawn  along  the  streets, 
as  it  was  at  a  most  funereal  pace,  it  over- 
topped the  sills  of  the  first-floor  windows. 
Its  slow  motion,  and  the  route  it  chiefly 
took,  evidenced  the  low  hopes  of  the  pro- 
prietors. St.  Giles's  and  the  purlieus  of 
that  neighbourhood  seem  to  have  been 
selected  as  the  favoured  spots  from  whence 
favours  were  mostly  to  be  expected. 
An  opportunity  offered  to  sketch  it,  while 
it  was  pelted  with  mud  and  stones, and  torn 
and  disfigured  by  the  unappreciating  off- 
spring of  the  sons  of  fortune  whose  regards 
it  courted.  The  artist's  letter  describes  the 
scene:  "  As  I  was  walking  up  Holborn  on 
Monday  the  9th  instant,  I  saw  a  strange 
T'ehicle  moving  slowly  on,  and  when  I 
came  up  to  it,  found  a  machine,  perhaps 
from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  high,  of  an 
octagon  shape,  covered  all  over  with 
Lottery  papers  of  various  colours.  It 
had  a  broad  brass  band  round  the  bottom, 
and  moved  on  a  pivot ;  it  had  a  very 
imposing  effect.  The  driver  and  the  horse 
seemed  as  dull  as  though  they  were  attend- 
ing a  solemn  funeral,  whilst  the  different 
shopkeepers  came  to  the  doors  and 
laughed ;  some  of  the  people  passing 
and  repassing  read  the  bills  that  were 
pasted  on  it,  as  if  they  had  never  read  one 
before,  others  stationed  themselves  to  look 
at  it  as  long  as  it  was  in  sight.  It  entered 
Monmouth-street,  that  den  of  filth  and 
rags,  where  so  great  a  number  of  young 
urchins  gathered  together  in  a  few  minutes 
as  to  be  astonishing.  There  being  an 
empty  chair  behind,  one  of  them  seated 
himself  in  it,  and  rode  backwards ; 
another  said,  "  let's  have  a  stone  through 
it,"  and  a  third  cried  "  let's  sludge  it." 
This  was  no  sooner  proposed  than  they 
threw  stones,  oyster  shells,  and  dirt,  and 
burst  several  of  the  sheets ;  this  attack 
brought  the  driver  from  his  seat,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  walk  by  the  side  of  his 
machine  up  this  foul  street,  which  his  show 
canvassed,  halting  now  and  then  to 
threaten  the  boys,  who  still  followed 
and  threw.  I  made  a  sketch,  and  left  the 


scene.  It  was  not  an  every-day  occur- 
rence, and  I  accompany  it  with  these 
remarks." 

This  was  the  fag-end  of  the  last  strug- 
gle of  the  speculators  on  public  credulity 
for  popularity  to  their  "  last,"  dying 
Lottery." 

At  last,  on  Wednesday  the  18th  of  Oc- 
tober, 1826,  the  State  Lottery  expired, 
and  its  decease  was  announced  in  the 
newspapers  of  the  next  day  by  the  follow- 
ing article : — 

STATE  .LOTTERY. 

Yesterday  afternoon,  at  about  half  past 
six  o'clock,  that  old  servant  of  the  state, 
the  Lottery,  breathed  its  last,  having  for  a 
long  period  of  years,  ever  since  the  days 
of  queen  Anne,  contributed  largely  to- 
wards the  public  revenue  of  the  country. 
This  event  took  place  at  Coopers'-hall, 
Basinghall-street ;  and,  such  was  the  an- 
xiety on  the  part  of  the  public  to  witness 
the  last  drawing  of  the  Lottery,  that  great 
numbers  of  persons  were  attracted  to  the 
spot,  independently  of  those  who  had  an 
interest  in  the  proceedings.  The  gallery 
of  Cooptrs'-hall  was  crowded  to  excess 
long  before  the  period  fixed  for  the  draw- 
ing, (five  o'clock,)  and  the  utmost  anxiety 
was  felt  by  those  who  had  shares  in  the 
Lottery  for  the  arrival  of  the  appointed 
hour.  The  annihilation  of  Lotteries,  it 
will  be  recollected,  was  determined  on  in 
the  session  of  parliament  before  last ;  and 
thus  a  source  of  revenue  bringing  into  the 
treasury  the  sums  of  250,000/.  and 
300,OOOJ.  per  annum  will  be  dried  up. 
This  determination  on  the  part  of  the  le- 
gislature is  hailed  by  far  the  greatest  por- 
tion of  the  public  with  joy,  as  it  will  put 
an  end  to  a  system  which  many  believe 
to  have  fostered. and  encouraged  the  late 
speculations,  the  effects  of  which  have 
been  and  are  still  severely  felt.  A  defi- 
ciency in  the  public  revenue  to  the  extent 
of  250,000/.  annually,  will,  however,  be 
the  consequence  of  the  annihilation  of 
Lotteries,  and  it  must  remain  for  those 
who  have  strenuously  supported  the  put- 
ting a  stop  to  Lotteries  to  provide  for  the 
deficiency. 

Although  that  which  ended  yesterday 
was  the  last,  if  we  are  informed  correctly, 
the  lottery -office  keepers  have  been  left 
with  a  great  number  of  tickets  remaining 
on  their  hands — a  pretty  strong  proof  that 
the  public  in  general  have  now  no  relish 
for  these  schemes. 


1503 


THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1504 


Ihe  concourse  of  persons  in  Basing- 
hall-street  was  very  great;  indeed  the 
street  was  almost  impassable,  and  every, 
body  seemed  desirous  of  ascertaining  the 
fortunate  numbers.  In  the  gallery 
the  greatest  interest  was  excited,  as 
the  various  prizes  were  drawn  from  the 
wheel;  and  as  soon  as  a  number-ticket 
was  drawn  from  the  number-wheel  every 
one  looked  with  anxiety  to  his  share,  in 
order  to  ascertain  if  Fortune  smiled  on 
him.  Only  one  instance  occurred  where 
a  prize  was  drawn  and  a  number  held  by 
any  individual  present.  The  fortunate 
person  was  a  little  man,  who,  no  sooner 
had  learned  that  his  number  was  a  grand 
prize,  then  he  buttoned  up  his  coat 
and  coolly  walked  off  without  uttering  a 
word.  As  the  drawing  proceeded,  disap- 
pointment began  to  succeed  the  hopes 
indulged  by  those  who  were  present.  On 
their  entrance  to  the  hall  every  face  wore 
a  cheerful  appearance ;  but  on  the  ter- 


mination of  the  drawing  a  snong  contrast 
was  exhibited,  and  the  features  of  each 
were  strongly  marked  with  dissatisfaction. 

The  drawing  commenced  shortly  after 
five  o'clock,  and  ended  at  twenty  minutes 
past  six. 

The  doors  of  the  various  Lottery-offices 
were  also  surrounded  by  persons  awaiting 
the  issue  of  the  drawing. 


LOTTERY  PUFFS. 

It  is  not  possible  to  go  into  the  Litera- 
ture oftheLottery  without  occupying  more 
room  than  can  be  spared,  but  young  read- 
ers and  posterity  may  be  amused  and 
suprised  by  some  figures,  from  among 
many  hundreds  of  wood-cuts  on  the  bills 
of  schemes,  and  invitations  to  buy. 

"  T.  BISH,  4  Cornhill,  and  9  Charing- 
cross,  London,  and  by  all  his  agents  in 
the  country,"  put  forth  the  following. 


itftdbm 


Mistress  Molly,  the  Qook, 
At  the  Scheme  only  look, 

In  wealth  we  may  both  of  us  roll, 
If  we  brush  for  a  Prize 
In  the  world  we  may  rise, 

And  our  shuttles  have  plenty  of  cole. 


Coofe 


If  what  you  say  is  true, 

I  am  all  in  a  stew, 
Lest  we  miss  what  we  so  much  desire  5 

Should  we  lose  this  good  plan, 

For  a  s'ip  in  the  pan, 
All  the  fat  will  be  soon  in  the  fir<  ! 


1505 


THE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1506 


Except  the  verses  which  were  placed  in 
the  bill  beneath  the  preceding  cut,  it  con- 
tained nothing  but  an  announcement  of 
he  day  when  the  Lottery  was  to  draw, 
tt,id  the  number  of  capital  prizes,  sub- 
joined by  this  information,  "  Tickets  and 
shares  are  selling  by  T.  BISH  ;"  who 
seems  to  have  imagined  he  could  pro- 


pitiate the  "  kitchen  maid''  and  a  cook 
maid"  in  his  behalf,  as  a  lottery-office 
keeper,  by  exhibiting  a  tea-kettle  and  fire 
implements  to  personify  the  one,  and 
certain  culinary  utensils  to  personify  the 
other. 

"  Delightful  cut  to  rear  the  tender  mind* 
from  the  basement  to  the  capital  story. 


RUN,  Neighbours,  run,  the  LOTTERY'S  expiring, 
When  FORTUNE'S  merry  wheel,  it  will  never  turn  more; 

She  now  supplies  all  Numbers,  you're  desiring, 
ALL  PRIZES,  No  BLANKS,  and  TWENTY  THOUSANDS  FOUR. 

Haste,  Neighbours,  haste,  the  Chance  will  never  come  again, 
When,  without  pain,  for  little  Cash — you'll  all  be  rich  ; 

Prizes  a  plenty  of — and  such  a  certain  source  of  gain, 
That  young  and  old,  and  all  the  world,  it  must  brwitch. 

Then  run,  neighbours,  run,  &c. 


This  versified  address  and  the  engraving 
are  f  om  another  bill.  The  verses  may 
be  presumed  as  sung  by  the  footman,  to 
excite  his  fellows  of  the  party-coloured 
cloth  to  speculate  in  the  never-enough- 
to-be  -  si  fi  ciently  -magnified  -  number  of 
chances  in  favour  of  their  gaining  "  Four 
of  £20,000,  and — Thirty  other  Capitals! 
No  Blanks !— ALL  IN  ONE  DAY  !"  Yet 
if  the  words,  adapted  from  a  popular  duet, 
were  regarded  as  an  easy  vehicle  to  effect 

VOL.  II.— 100. 


that  benevolent  purpose,  they  could  only 
be  so  to  those  who,  with  the  contractors, 
forgot,  or  perhaps,  with  them,  did  not 
know,  that  the  original  tells  of 

u  a  day  of  jubilee  cajolery." 
Surely  this  must  have  been  a  "  woij 
of  fear"  to  all  except  the  contractor* 
themselves,  who  alone  would  be  the 
gainers  by  what  the  body  of  adventurers 
hazarded  in  the  "  grand  scheme3'  c. 
"  cajolery.'' 


1507 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1508 


name  will  appear  singly  before  the  public, 
as  the  very  last  will  be  a  coalition  of  all 
the  usual  contractors.  Bish,  being  "  the 
last  man1  who  appears  singly,  has  been 
particularly  anxious  to  make  an  excellent 
scheme,  and  flatters  himself  the  one  he 
has  the  honour  to  submit  must  meet  uni- 
versal approbation. 


At  the  back  of  this  bill  are  the  following 
verses,  derived  from  the  "  cajolery" 


One  of  the  bills  of  a  former  Lottery 
begins  as  follows  : — 

B1SH 

The  Last  Man . 

In  reminding  his  best  friends,  the  pub- 
lic, that  the  State  Lottery  will  be  drawn 
this  day,  3d  May,  Bish  acquaints  them 
that  it  is  the  very  last  but  one  that  will 
ever  take  place  in  this  kingdom,  and  he 
is  THE  LAST  CONTRACTOR  whose 


TO-DAY!  OR  NOT  AT  ALL 

RUN,  NEIGHBOURS,  RUN  ! 

Run,  neighbours,  run  !  To-day  it  is  the  Lott'ry  draws, 

You  still  may  be  in  time  if  your  purse  be  low ; 
Rhino  we  all  know  will  stop,  of  poverty,  the  flaws, 

Possessed  of  that  you'll  find  no  one  to  serve  you  slow  : 
The  ministers  in  parliament  of  Lotteries  have  toll'd  the  knell, 
And  have  declar'd  from  Coopers'-hall  dame  Fortune  soon  they  will  expel. 
The  blue-coat  boys  no  more  will  shout  that  they  have  drawn  a  capital  ! 
Nor  run,  as  tho'  their  necks  they'd  break,  to  Lucky  Bish  the  news  to  tell. 

Run,  neighbours,  run  !  &c. 
Run,  neighbours,  run  !  this  is  you  know  the  third  of  May, 

Tis  the  day  dame  Fortune  doth  her  levee  hold ; 
In  the  scheme,  as  you  may  see,  are  rang'd  along  in  proud  array, 

Of  one  and  twenty  thousands  six,  in  notes  or  gold  ! 
A  sovereign  cure  e'en  one  of  these  would  be  for  a  consumption,  sir, 
If  such  disease  your  pocket  has,  so  if  you've  any  gumption,  sir, 
You'll  lose  no  time,  but  haste  away,  and  buy  a  share  or  ticket,  sir, 
For  who  can  tell  but  this  may  be  the  very  hour  to  nick  it,  sir  ? 

Run,  neighbours,  run  !  &c. 

Run,  neighbours,  run !  the  times  they  say  are  not  the  best, 
And  cash  'tis  own'd  is  falling  short  with  high  and  low ; 
Bankers  retire  now,  while  Notaries  have  little  rest, 

And  what  may  happen  next  no  one  pretends  to  know. 
Dame  Fortune  (on  whom  thousands  drew)  is  going  now  to  shut  up  shop, 
So  if  you'd  cash  a  draft  on  her,  make  haste  for  soon  her  bank  will  stop ; 
This  very  day  her  wheel  goes  round,  when  thousands  with  her  gifts  she'll  cheer, 
For  those  who  can  her  smiles  obtain  may  gaily  laugh  throughout  the  year. 

Run,  neighbours,  run !  &c. 


"  BISH,"  as  the  contractor  is  pleased  to 
call  himself,  who,  after  he  was  "  the  last 
man,"  dilated  into  a  member  of  parlia- 
ment, employed  the  greatest  number' of 
Lottery-laureates  of  any  office  keeper  of 
his  time  ;  and  he  and  the  schemes  where- 
in he  engaged  were  lauded,  in  prose  as 
well  as  verse,  by  his  "  ready  writers." 
One  of  their  productions  says  : — 

JOHN  BULUs 
Wonder 

At  monsieur  Nong-tong-paw's  ubiquity 
could  not  be  greater  than  the  astonish- 
ment of  a  French  gentleman,  who  popped 


into  BISH's  office  the  other  day  to  in- 
quire after  the  capitals. — "  You  vill  be  so 
good  to  tell  me  de  nombre  of  de  capital 
you  tire" — you  draw  yesterday  ?" — "  Why, 
sir,  there  were  .  .  " — "  Restez  un  peu, 
stay  a  littel  moment. — You  will  tell  me 
de  capital  more  big  dan  two  hundred 
pounds." — "  Why,  sir,  there  were  four 
drawn  above  200/. :  there  was  No.  7849 
30,000?."—"  Ah  !  ma  foi !  dat  is  good 
dat  is  de  grande  chose.  Vel,  and  by 
whom  was  it  sel  ?" — "  Bish  sold  it,  sir." 
— "  Bish,  ha,  ha!  von  lucky  dog!  vel, 
aliens  !"— "  There  was  No.  602,  1000/., 
sir." — "  Ah,  indeed  !  vel,  who  was  sel 


1509 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK— LOTTERI ES. 


1510 


dat  ?"— "  Bish,  sir." — "  Eh,  ma  foi  ! 
Bish  encore  ?  Vel."— "  There  was  No. 
2032,  300/."— "  And  who  was  sel  ?" — 
"  Bish,  sir." — "  Eh,  mon  dieu  !  'tis  very 
grand  fortune.  Now  den  de  last,  and  who 
vas  sel  dat  ?" — "  Why,  sir,  the  last  was 
No.  6275,  300J.,  also  sold  by  Bish." — 
"  Eh,  de  diable !  'tis  von  chose  impossi- 
ble, Bish  sell  all  de  four  ?"— "  Yes,  sir, 
and  in  a  former  lottery  he  sold  all  the 
three  thirty  thousands." — "  Den  he  is  von 
golden  philosopher.  I  vill  buy,  I  vill — 
let  me  see.  Yes,  I  vill  buy  your  shop." — 
His  ambition  was  at  last,  however,  con- 
tented with  three  tickets  ;  so  that  he  has 
three  chances  of  gaining  the  two  thirty 
thousands  yet  in  the  wheel ;  and  we  have 
no  doubt  Bish  will  have  the  good  luck  of 
selling  them. 

"  BISH"  is    the    subject    of    versified 
praise,  in  another  bill. 

How  TO  BE  HAPPY. 
Let  misers  hug  their  worship  d  hoards, 

And  lock  their  chests  with  care ; 
Whilst  we  enjoy  what  life  affords, 

With  spirits  light  as  air. 
For  our  days  shall  haily  gaily  be, 

Prizes  in  store  before  us, 
We'll  spend  our  ev'nings  merrily. 

And  BISH  we'll  toast  in  chorus. 

Let  lovers  droop  for  sparkling  eyes, 

And  heave  the  tender  sigh  : 
Whilst  we  embrace  the  glittering  prize, 

And  meagre  care  defy. 
For  our  days  shall  haily  gaily  be, 

Plenty  in  store  before  us  ; 
Our  cash  we'll  jingle  merrily, 

And  BISH  we'll  toast  in  chorus. 

Let  glory  call  the  sons  of  war 

To  dare  the  crimsou'd  field  ; 
Sweet  Fortune's  charms  are  brighter  far, 

Her  golden  arms  we'll  wield. 
Then  our  days  will  haily  gaily  be, 

Riches  in  store  before  us  ; 
We'll  dance  through  life  most  merrily, 

And  BISH  we'll  toast  in  chorus. 


*'  BISH"  on  another  occasion  steps  ir, 
with  :— 

PERMIT  ME  TO  ASK 
Have  you  seen  the  scheme  of  tne  pre- 
sent Lottery  ? 

Do  you  know  that  it  contains    MORE 
PRIZES  than  BLANKS  ? 

Have  you  heard  how  very   cheap  the 
tickets  are  ?  / 


Are  you  aware,  that  Lotteries  are  about 
to  be  discontinued,  the  chancellor  of  the 
exchequer  having  said  that  the  Lottery 
bill,  introduced  last  session  of  parlia- 
ment, should  be  the  last? 

I  need  not  direct  you  to  BISH'S,  as 
being  the  luckiest  offices  in  the  kingdom, 
&c. 

"  BISH  "  adventured  in  the  "  City  Lot- 
tery," a  scheme  devised  for  getting  rid  of 
the  houses  in  Picket-street,  Temple-bar, 
and  Skinner-street,  Snow-hill;  and  on 
that  occasion  he  favoured  the  world  with 
the  following : — 

FREEHOLDS  AND  FORTUNES. 

BY  PETER  PUN. 
Tune.—"  Drops  of  Brandy." 
Dame  Fortune  is  full  of  her  tricks, 

And  blind,  as  her  portraits  reveal,  sir  ; 
Then  the  best  way  the  goddess  to  fix, 

Is  by  putting  a  spoke  in  her  wheel,  sir  : 
Her  favours  the  Lott'ry  unfolds, 

Then  the  summons  to  BISH  don't  scorn 

sir; 
For,  as  her  cornucopia  he  holds, 

He's  the  lad  for  exalting  your  horn,  sir. 
Rum  ti  iddity,  ficc 

With  poverty  who  would  be  known, 

And  live  upon  orts  in  a  garret,  sir, 
Who  could  get  a  good  house  of  his  own, 

And  fatten  on  roast  beef  and  claret,  sir  ! 
In  the  city  scheme  this  you'll  obtain, 

At  BISH'S,  where  all  folks  pell-mell  come, 
By  a  ticket  a.  free-hold  you'll  gain, 

And  it  cannot  be  more  free  than  welcome. 
Rum  ti  iddity,  &c. 

This  house,  when  you  once  realize  it, 

Upholders  will  look  sharp  as  lynxes, 
For  an  order  to  Egyptianize  it, 

With  catacomb  fal  lals  and  sphynxes  ; 
Chairs  and  tables,  a  mwrnmy-like  crew, 

With  crocodile  grooms  of  the  stole,  sir, 
Sarcophagus  co«/-skuttles  too, 

And  at  BISH'S  you'll  fill  them  with  cole,  sir. 
Rum  ti  iddity,  &c, 

For  when  you're  thus  furnish'd  in  state, 

And  a  pretty  establishment  got,  sir, 
Ten  to  one  but  it  pops  in  your  pate, 

You'll  want  sticks  to  be  boiling  the  pot, 

sir; 
Then  to  BISH'S  away  for  supplies, 

For  mopusscs  they  are  so  plenty, 
You  may  choose  a  ten  thousand  pound  prize, 

And  if  you  don't  like  it  a  twenty. 

Rum  ti  iddity,  &c. 

Then  BISH  for  my  money,  I  say, 

The  like  of  him  never  was  known,  sir  ; 

As  Brulgruddery  says  in  the  play, 

"  That  man's  the  philosopher's  stone,  sir." 


1511 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1512 


Then  what  shall  we  do  for  this  man, 
Who  makes  all  your  fortunes  so  handy  ? 

Buy  his  tickets  as  last  as  you  can, 
And  drink  him  in  drops  of  brandy. 

Rum  ti  iddity,  &c. 

u  BISH"  seems  to  have  deemed  "  the 
Philosopher's  stone,"  which  never  existed 
but  in  silly  imaginations,  to  be  a  proper 
device  for  drawing  customers.  It  is 
repeated  in 

PADDY'S    PURSUIT, 

A  NEW  SONG. 

From  the  county  of  Cork   in  dear  Ireland  I 

came, 

To  England's  swate  Island  a  fortune  to  gain  ; 
Where  I  heard  that  the  strafes  were  all  paved 

with  gold, 
And  the  hedges  grew  Guineas  I  so  Paddy  was 

told! 

I  jump'd  on  dry  land  to  my  neck  up  in  water, 
Which  to  some  spalpeens  gave  subject    for 

laughter ; 
But,  says  I,  with  a  grin,  as  I  dragg'  d  myself 

out, 
"  I'm  not  come  to  England  to  be  food  for  a 

trout." 

Fal  de  ral,  de  ral  lal,  O  whack  ! 
Then  to  London   I  came,  that  monstracious 

city, 
Where  the  lads  dress  so  gay,  and  the  ladies 

look  pratty  ; 
But,    Och  !  blood-and-ouns  I  only   mark    my 

surprise, 
When  only  great  stones  in  the  strafes  met  my 

eyes ! 

No  Guineas  at  all  on  the  hushes  there  grew; 
Not  a  word  that  they  told  me,  I  found,  sirs, 

was  true : 
"  Och  !  why  wa'n't  I  drown'd,  and  made  food 

for  the  fish  1" 
Thus  I  growled,  'till  I  lighted  on  one  Master 

Bish. 

Fal  de  rai,&c. 
Master  Bith  had  found  out  the  Philosopher's 

stone, 
And  a  Thousand  yellow  Guineas  he  gave  me 

for  One ! 

Thus  Fortune  to  Pat  was  monstraciously  kind, 
Tho'  no  gold  on  the  bushes  or  itrates  I  could 

find! 

Then  honeys  attend,  and  pursue  my  advice  ; 
Och  !  to  9,  Charing-cross,  be  oflF  in  a  trice  ; 
Buy  a  Lottery  Chance,  for  the  Drawing  Day's 

near, 
And  perhaps,  like   friend  Paddy,  a   Fortune 

you'll  cl*w. 

Fal  dc  ral,  &c. 


"  BISH"  we  find   again  attempting  to 
rnar.t,  with  the  following  : — 


PHILOSOPHER'S   STONE. 

That  stone, 


Philosophers  in  vain  so  long  have  sought, 

Says  Milton,  would  not  prove    more 
valuable  to  its  possessor  than  an  absolute 
knowledge  of  certain  numbers  which  lie 
hidden  in  the  Wheel  of  Fortune  till  Fate 
declares  to  the  enraptured  ears  of  the  ad- 
venturer, who  has  founded  his   hopes  of 
success  on  them,  their  union  with  certain 
large  sums  of  money,  viz.  Twenty,  Ten, 
or  Five  Thousand  Pounds ;  for  there  are 
many  such  sums  yet  in  the  wheel,  yet  to 
be  determined,  yet  to  be  gained  by  ha- 
zarding a  mere  trifle. 
He,  who  life's  sea  successfully  would  sail, 
Must  often  throw  a  sprat  to  catch  a  whale. 
Apply  this  proverb  then  ;  think,  ere  too  late, 
What  fortune,  honour,  and  what  wealth  await 
The  very  trifling  sum*  of  one  pound  eight. 

"  BISH,"  of  course,  imagined,  or  wished, 
the  public  to  be  amazingly  surprised  at 
his  popularity,  and  therefore  indulged 
them  with  this  song  : 

WHAT'S    THE    MATTER? 

By  Quintin  Query,  Esq. 
Tune. — "  O  Dear,  what  can  the'Matter  be 1" 
"  O  dear,  what  can  the  matter  be  ?" 

To  tell,  who  can  be  at  a  loss  ? 
The  people  are  running  by  dozens  to  BISH'S, 
To  make  out  their  dreams,  and  fulfil  all  their 

wishes, 
And  try  to  come  in  for  the  loaves  and  the 

fishes, 

At  4,  Cornhill,  and  9,  Charing-cross. 
"  0  dear,  what  can  the  matter  be  /" 

I'll  tell  you,  good  friend,  if  you  wisn; 
The  people  are  trying  dame  Fortune  to  cozen, 
And  the  old  women's  tongues  are  3terna!'y 

buzzing, 
About  lucky  numbers,  19  to  the  dozen, 

And  all  they  can  talk  of  is  BISH. 
"  O  dear,  what  can  the  matter  be  ?" 

I  dare  say  you're  dying  to  know  ; 
The  horns  blow  about,  be  it  rainy  or  sunny, 
The  walls  they  are  cover'd  with  bills  all  so 

funny, 
To  shew  you  the  way  how  to  finger  the  monev, 

And  you  all  know  that  "  makes  the  mare 

g°" 
"  O  dear,  what  can  the  matter  be  *" 

The  bellman  he  rings  such  a  peal  ? 
To  tell  those  whose  fortunes  are  rusted  with 

rickets, 
To  call  at  good  luck's  (that  is,  Bish'*)  two 

wickets, 


*  The  price  of  a  Sixteenth  MI  the  present  Lottery 


1513  THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES.  1514 

A  nd  a  transfer  obtain  for  500  Whole  Tickets  ;  Then  the  day  of  all  days  is  the   veiy   nejrt 

How  conceited  they'd  make  a  man  feel !  Tuesday  ; 

"  O  dear,  what  can  the  matter  be  ?"  Then,  Misfortune  s  black  Monday  a  fig  ! 

For  joy  you'll  be  dancing  a  jig  ;  

For  good   luck  most  folks  are   delighted    to 

choose  a  day,  «  BISH,"  on  another  occasion,  treated 

And  a  lucky  day  surely  must  be  a  good  news  the  «  gentle  public,"  like  so  many   chil- 

v'  dren,  with  another  optical  delusion. 

FORTUNE'S  GALANTY  SHOW. 

Tune.-"  GALANTY  SHOW/* 

O  pretty  show,  O  raree  show,  O  finey  galaaty  show,  O  pretty  g-alanty  show ! 

Chaunt. 

Come,  all  my  merry  customers,  of  high,  middling,  and  low  degree, 
Look  in  at  one  of  these  little  glasses,  and  you  shall  see  what  you  shall  see ; 
My  fine  galanty  show  you  great  wonders  shall  view  in, 
You  shall  see  the  high  road  to  Fortune,  and  that's  better  than  the  road  to  Ruin. 

O  pretty  show,  O  raree  show,  O  finey  galanty  show,  O  pretty  galanty  show ! 

There  you  see  the  New  Lott'ry  Scheme,  such  as  never  was  plann'd  before  ! 

Feiver  Tickets,  zndfeiver  Blanks,  and  yet  the  Prizes  are  more; 

And  besides  the  usual  5's,  10's,  and  20  Thousands  (Peep  thro'  one  of  these  wickets,) 

You  shall  see  such  a  Prize  as  was  never  yet  known,  neither  more  nor  less  than  1000 

whole  Tickets  I 

O  pretty  show,  Sac 

And  there  you  shall  see,  (Look  a  little  to  the  right ;  Mr.  BISH's  Shop  on  Cornhill : 
{Now  a  little  to  the  left)  And  there's  his  other  Shop  at  Charing-cross,  where  buy 

Shares  if  you  will ; 

You'll  get  a  part  of  the  1000  whole  Tickets,  I'll  be  bound, 

And  that's  very  much  like  getting  a  part  of  more  than  a  Hundred  Thousand  Pounds  ! 

O  pretty  show,  &c. 
Then  look  straight  forward,  and  there  you  see  Coopers'  Hall,  (Isn't  it  a  fine  building  ?) 

there  the  Tickets  they  draw ; 
And    there  you  see  the  pretty  little  Blue-coat  Boys,  and  nicer  little  fellows  you 

never  saw ; 

There  you'll  see  'em  pulling  the  Numbers  and  Prizes  out  of  the  very  Grand  Wheels 
And  when  one  has  a  Ticket  in  the  Lottery,  and  sees  such  a  sight,  how  narvous 

one  feels ! 

O  pretty  show,  &c. 
And  there — '(Rub  the  glass  a  little  cleaner)  there's  a  sight  I'd  not  have  you  miss  for 

a  pound, 
The  little  Boy  draws  out  a   Number  (Let  me  see  what  Number  you  have  got)   aye, 

that's  it,  I  '11  be  bound  ; 
There  don't  the  Clerk  (On  the  left  hand)  look  exactly  as  if  he  was  calling  it,  don't  you 

see  how  he  cries  ? 
And  the  other  little  Boy  draws,  and  the  other  Clerk  looks  as  if  he  bawl'd  out  a 

£20,000  Prize. 

O  pretty  show,  &c. 

There  you  see  ('tis  no  Dream  of  Castles  in  the  Air,  called  Utopia) 
There  you  see  Fortune  pouring  the  Guineas  out  of — what  the  deuce  is  it?  a  great 

long  hard  name — Oh  !  her  Cornucopia  ! 
That's  a  fine  Golden  Horn,  that  holds  all  the  Prizes,  I  declare, 
And  to  get  its  Contents  would  be  a  pretty  Horn  Fair  ! 

O  pretty  show,  &c. 

u  BISH"  was  pleased  to  devise  the  scheme  novelty    was    deemed   alluring,  we  find 

of  a  Lottery  to  be  drawn  on  St.  Swithin's  one  of  his  bills  beginning  with  an  apo- 

day,   wherein   wine  was   added   to    the  strophising  and  prophetic  couplet  v* 
prizes,  and   therefore,   and    because   its 


1515  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES.  1516 

Hail,  famed  ST.  SWITHIN!  who,  with  pow'r  And  in  words  such  as  these  did  their  anger 

benign,  express, 

Instead  of  rain  pour  <  how  rs  of  gold  and  wine!  Till  JOVE  swore  he'd  kick  them  both  oat  of 

the  mess. 

Another  in  the   same  Lottery,  beneath  Derry  down. 

a  wood-cut  of  a  bunch  of  grapes,   breaks 

out : —  First  BACCHUS  advanc'd,  tho'  he  scarcely  could 

stand, 

On  the  15th  of  JULY  what  a  golden  supply  Determin'd,  he  swore,  to  have  the  whip  hand; 

Of  wine  given  gratis  by  BISH,  And  thus  lie  began  . — "  Why,  you  so;did  old 
If  you  can  get  but  a  share,  you'll  have  plenty  e\ff 

to  spare,  All  your  thoughts  areemploy'd  in  the  scraping 
Arid  can  treat  all  your  friends  as  you  wish.  of  pelf. 

"  BISH,"  on  the  same  occasion,  throws  «  Can  gold,  I  would  ask,  e'er  enliven  the  soul 

the  "  leer  of  invitation,"  with  Like  the  juice  of  the  grape,  or  a  full  flowing 

bowl  ? 

TRY  IN  TIME.  Can  the  glittering  banble  such  pleasure  impart, 

Och  !  Judy,  my  jewel,  come  here  when  I  call ;  Or  make  thc  blood  ciicle  so  warm  round  the 
We  may  n:>w  get  wine  gratis,  for  nothing  at  heart? 

And  toU,  like  paratecs  pil'd  up  in  a  heap,  "  ^^  &old  is  a"  Cvi1»  there's  many  will  say, 

W  hich  is  offer'd  us  too,  honey,  almost  as  cheap.  As  my  vot'ries  oft  find  when  the  reck  mnS  s  to 

pay ; 

But  there's  no  time  to  lose  if  we're  meaning  Had  g°ld  n(''er  existed,  the  true  jolly  fellow 

to  try>  For  ever  might  tipple,  and  always  get  meJow. 

For  'tis  all  in  one  day,  on  the  \bth  July. 

And  since  the  grand  scheme  is  beyond   all  "  I  swear  by  old  Styx  !— that  this  truth  it  will 

compare,  stand:" 

He's  a  spalpeen  who  won't  buy  a  fortunate  Rut  the  wine  in  his  noddle  usurp'd  the   com- 

share.  mand,— 

A  knock-' em-down  argument  BACCHUS   soon 
"  BISH,"  in  another  bill,  oddly  enough,  found, 

put  an  old,   one-legged  smoker,  with  a  F<>r  quickly  he  measur'd  his  length  on  the 
patch  over  one  eye,  a  carbuncled  nose,  ground. 

and   his  only  foot  flannelled  up  for  the  «  As  BACCHUS  is  down>.  then  sa  s  PLUTIIS, 
gout,  the  effects  of  drinking,  in  an  arm  w  pjj  n-^  .„ 

chair,  with  the  following  lines  betow  :—  And  this  speech  he  address'd  to  the  knobs  of 

"  LAID  UB  IN  PORT."  (t  That go,d  .g  'a blessing>  Pm  sure  l  can  prove . 

Od's  blood  !  what  a  time  for  a  seaman  to  skulk,  The  soother  of  cares,  and  cementer  of  love  ! 

Like  a  lazy  land -lubber  ashore  :  ,.  ,,      ,  ,       - 

If  I'm  laid  up  at  all,  I'll  be  laid  up  in  port,  1 You  kn°w  the  ?ld  f™*A>  of  ^ertj >  *™- 

And  surrounded  by  prizes  galore1.  Tis  *?****»*  about~   when  'he  enteTS  the 

Tommy  Bish  shall  fill  my  glass,  ....     ilo°r> 

And  the  puppies,  as  they7  pass, '  ™<rf  love,  through  the  vnndow,  soon  toddle, 

Sha'n't  run  down  the  old  commodore,  '    ^  ^w^ '  ,,   ,,  .,    .,    ,,   . 

The  rich  old  commo'dore,  the  cosey  old  com-  But  lf  there  were  ^°ld'  !  m  SUre  that  he  d  Stay- 
modore, 

The  boozing  old  commodore  he ;  "  111   own  that  my   bounties  are   sometimes 
While  I'm  friends  with  mighty  BISH,  /nisus'd  : 

He  will  crown  my  ev'ry  wish,  But   pray  why   should    I,    sirs,  for    that   be 
Tho'  I'll  never  more  be  fit  for  sea.  abus'd  ?" 

Here  JOVE   stopp'd  him  short,  and  with  po- 
Then     also,     "  Bish"     favoured     his  sitive  air, 

'*  friends"  with  the  opportunity  of  sing-  Insisted  that  they  should  their  quarrel  forbear, 
ing, 

"  Your  claims  I  admit,  sir,  and  BACCHUS' 

BACCHUS  AND  PLUTUS,  OR  THE  UNION.  to°5 

But  a  plan  to  unite  you,  I  now  have  in  view  ; 

Tune.—"  Derry  Down."  You  know  TOMMY  BISH  ?"— "  To  be  sure!' 
A  ROW  was  kick'd  up  in  the  regions  above,  exclaim  all, 

For    PLUTUS    and  BACCHUS   for   precedence  "  ^Tis  on  him,  that  dame  Fortune  her  bounty 
strove  ;  lets  fall !" 


1517 


fllE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1513 


«  Well, — a  Lottery  he's  plann'd,  with  an  union 
rare, 

Where  money  and  wine  each  come  in  for  a 
share ; 

There  are  three  thirty  thousands  to  gratify  you  ,• 

And  the  twelve  pipes  of  wine,  sirs,  for  BAC- 
CHUS will  do." 

Says  BACCHUS  to  PLDTUS — "  Then  give  us 

your  hand, 

I'll  tipple  his  wine,  till  no  more  I  can  stand ; 
And  as  JOVE  has  inform'd  us  there's  money 

enough, 
Why  you,  Mister  PLUTUS,  can  finger  the  stuff. 

"  Besides,  I  have  heard,  or  my  memory's  fail'd, 
How   greatly  last  Lott'ry  his   luck  has  pre- 

vail'd ; 
The  three  twenty  thousands,  he  sold  (the  rum 

fish!) 

Then  let  us  be  off,  and  buy  tickets  of  BISH  !" 
Deny  down. 

"  BISH,''  who  in  the  former  bill  had 
subjoined,  in  plain  prose,  that  "lotteries 
must  end  for  ever,"  likewise  issued  the 
following — 

DUTIES  ON  WINES. 

The  minister  in  reducing  the  duty,  so 
that  wines  may  be  sold  at  one  shilling 
per  bottle  cheaper,  has  done  much  to 
increase  the  spirits  of  the  people ;  at  the 
same  time  he  has  adopted  another  mea- 
sure that  will  in  a  few  months  DESTROY 
THE  FREE  TRADE  of  every  person  in 
the  kingdom  to  obtain  for  a  small  sum  a 
great  fortune  in  a  few  weeks,  by  having 
determined  to  abolish  Lotteries,  which 
must  soon  end  for  ever;  therefore.,  the 
present  is  one  of  the  last  opportunities  to 
buy,  &c. 


don-wall,  but  become  the  proprietor  of 
many  a  Long-acre  ;  represent  a  Borough, 
or  an  Aldermanbury  ;  and  have  a  snug 
share  in  Threadneedle-street . 

BY  PURCHASING  A  QUARTER, 
Your  affairs  need  never  be  in  Crooked- 
lane,  nor  your  legs  in  Fetter-lane ;  you 
may  avoid  Paper-buildings ;  steer  clear 
of  the  King's-bench,  and  defy  the  Mar- 
shalsea  ;  if  your  heart  is  in  Love-lane, 
you  may  soon  get  into  Sweetings-alley, 
obtain  your  lover's  consent  for  Matri- 
mony-place, and  always  live  in  a  High- 
street. 

BY  PURCHASING  AN  EIGHTH, 
You  may  ensure  plenty  of  provision  for 
Swallow-street ;  finger  the  Cole  in  Cole- 
man-street ;  and  may  never  be  troubled 
with  Chancery-lane;  you  may  cast 
anchor  in  Cable-street  ;  set  up  business 
in  a  Fore-street,  or  a  Noble-street  ;  and 
need  never  be  confined  within  a  Nar- 
row-wall. 

BY  PURCHASING  a  SIXTEENTH, 

You  may  live  frugal  in  Cheapside ;  get 
merry  in  Liquorpond-street  ;  soak  your 
hide  in  Leather-lane;  be  a  wet  sole  in 
Shoe-lane  ;  turn  maltster  in  Beer-lane,  or 
hammer  away  in  Smithfield. 

In  short,  life  must  indeed  be  a  Long- 
lane,  if  it's  without  a  turning.  Therefore 
if  you  are  wise,  without  Mincing  the 
matter,  be  Fleet  and  go  Pall-mall  to  Corn- 
hill  or  Charing-cross,  and  enroll  your 
name  in  the  Temple  of  Fortune,  BISH's. 


"  BISH,"   according   to   the  old   plan, 
•'  ever  ready  to  serve  his  friends,"  issued 

THE  AMBULATOR'S  GUIDE 

TO  THE  LAND  OF  PLENTY. 

BY  PURCHASING  A  TICKET, 

In  the  present  Lottery, 

You  may  reap  a  golden  harvest  in  Corn- 
hill,  and  pick  up  the  bullion  in  Silver- 
street  ;  have  an  interest  in  Bank-build- 
ings ;  possess  a  Mansion-house  in  Golden- 
square,  and  an  estate  like  a  Little  Britain  ; 
pour  red  wine  down  Gutter-lane ;  never 
be  in  //Mrjgwford-market ;  but  all  your 
life  continue  a  May-fair. 

BY  PURCHASING  A  HALF, 
You  need  never  be  confined  within  LOU- 


LOTTERY  FOR  WOMEN  IN  INDIA. 
Advertisement. 

BE  IT  KNOWN,  that  Six  FAIR 
PRETTY  YOUNG  LADIES,  with  two  sweet 
and  engaging  young  children,  lately 
IMPORTED  FROM  EUROPE,  having  roses 
of  health  blooming  on  their  cheeks,  and 
joy  sparkling  in  their  eyes,  possessing 
amiable  manners,  and  highly  accomplish- 
ed, whom  the  most  indifferent  cannot 
behold  without  expressions  of  rapture,  are 
to  be  RAFFLED  FOR  next  door  to  the 
British  gallery.  SCHEME:  twelve  tickets, 
at  twelve  rupees  each ;  the  highest  of  the 
three  throws,  doubtless,  takes  the  most 
fascinating,  &c."* 


*  Communicated  by  J.  J.  A.  F.  from  a  Calcutta 
newspaper  of  Sept.  3,  1818. 


1519 


TILE  EVEUY-DAY  BOOK.— LOT1£1UES. 


1523 


'I  he  four  engravings  on  this  page,  with  the  lines  beneath  them,  are  from  other 

Lottery  bills. 


"  Throw  Physic  to  the  Dogs,"  for  me 
The  best  composing  draught' s  a  Fee  • 
For  sinking  Chest,  low  pulse,  or  cold. 
There's  no  Specific  equals  Gold. 


Though  the  lotteries  soon  will  be  over,  I'm 

told, 

That  now  is  the  time  to  get  paiJsful  of  gold; 
And  if  there  is  any  real  truth  in  a  dream, 
I  myself  shall  come  in  for  a  share  of  the  cream. 
We  hail,  ere  the  Sun,  the  first  breath  of  the 

morn, 
And  'tis  said  "  early  birds  get  the  best  of  the 

corn," 
Of  the  Four  Twenty  Thousands  perhaps  for-> 

tune  may 
Have  in  store  one  for  me,  as  they're  drawn  :n 

One  Day  ! 


Dancing  Days  are  over!" 


For  the  g-ay  fruits  of  nature  what  wish  can 

you  feel, 
When  compar'd  with  the  fruits  of  the  lottery 

wheel  ; 
My  basket  of  fruit  I'd  exchange  with    great 

glee, 
If  vneffoMvn  pippin  they'd  only  give  me. 


1521 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1522 


"  BISH,  contractor  for  another  Lottery," 
during  the  proceedings  in  parliament  re- 
specting the  queen,  availed  himself  of  a 
celebrated  answer  by  one  of  the  witnesses 
at  the  bar  of  the  house  of  lords,  and  issued 
the  following  : — 

NON   MI  RICORDO ! 

OB, 
A  jew  Questions  on  a  new  Subject. 

QUESTION. 
GOOD  Signer,  if  your  memory  serves, 

A  question  I  would  ask  or  two  j 
Then  pray  may  I  the  favour  beg, 
That  you  will  answer,  if  I  do  ? 

ANSWER. 

Non  mi  ricordo,  1  can't  say, 

Whether  my  mem'ry  serves  or  no  ; 

But  let  me  hear  them  first,  I  pray  ^ 
What  I  remember  you  shall  know. 

QUESTION. 

Since  Lotteries  in  this  realm  began, 
And  many  good  ones  there  have  been, 

Do  you  suppose  the  oldest  man, 

So  good  a  Scheme  at  this  has  seen  ? 

ANSWER. 

\on  mi  ricordo,  surely  no  ; 

Comparisons  are  idle  tales, 
For  such  a  Lottery  Scheme  as  this, 
I  must  confess  my  memory  fails. 

QUESTION. 

Now  what  peculiar  features,  pray, 
Distinguish  this  from  all  the  rest  ? 

And  why  do  all  the  people  say, 
"  Unquestionably  this  is  best?' 

ANSWER. 

Non  mi  ricordo,  'tis  in  vain 

For  me  its  merits  now  to  say  j 
To  tell  them  all  'twould  take,  'tis  plain, 

From  now  until  the  Drawing  Day. 

QUESTION. 

Its  merits  I  will  gladly  own, 

But  folks  will  questions  ask,  and  pray 

If  your  opinion  is  requir'd, 
Just  tell  me,  sir,  what  you  would  say  ? 

ANSWER. 

Non  mi  ricordo  :  read  the  Scheme, 
One  word  will  answer  all  your  wish 

Tis  BISH's  plan,  'tis  BISH's  theme, 
It  must  be  good,  'tis  plann'd  by  BISH 

"  BISH,"  in  the  annexed,  puffs  at  Queen 
Anne's  prize  of  "  5000  pounds,"  as 
"  so  small."  This  may  be  imagined  to 
have  been  asserted  under  poetical  licence; 
for,  in  fact,  5000/.  in  those  days  was  almost 
equal  to  the  largest  prize  in  modern 
Lotteries 


THE 

Bonne  Bouche  of  Lotteries. 
Tune, — "MODERATION  AND  ALTERATION." 
In  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  when  first  Lott'nes 

were  invented, 

With  very  few  Prizes  Advent'rers  were  con- 
tented ; 
The  largest  of  which,  (so  small  were  Fortune's 

bounds,) 

"Paidinfaire  Plate,1'  was  but  5000  Pounds. 
Moderation !  Moderation  ! 
O,  what  a  wonderful  Moderation  ' 
Soon  5000/.  was  deem'd  but  a  small  Bait, 
And  1 0,000  then  was  the  Great  Prize  of  State  : 
Twenty  follow'd   soon  after,  then    Thirty — 

bold  push ! 

And   at   last  40,000  was   made  the   Bonne 
Bouche! 

Alteration!  Alteration!  &c. 

Now  the  Lott'ry  Contractors  a  New  Plan  pur- 
sue, 

All  former  outdoings  resolv'd  to  outdo; 

And  have  struck  out  a  Plan  to  increase  Public 
Gain, 

By  which,   One  Hundred  Thousand   Pounds 
you  may  obtain. 

Temptation  !  Temptation  !  &c 

If  two  Numbers  are  drawn  in  a  specifi'd  way, 

1000  Whole  Ticket*  the  Holders  repay  ; 

And  a  1000  Whole  Tickets  a  Chance  may  re- 
veal, 

Of  all   the  Great  Prizes    contain'd    in    the 
Wheel. 

Admiration  !  Admiration  !  &c. 
O,  what  a  subject  for  Admiration  ! 

Now  if  you  could  get  them,  and  'twouldn't  be 

strange, 
For  the  rest  of  your  life,  how  your  fortune 

would  change ! 
A   Coach,  a  Town-House,   and  a   Country- 

House,  too ! 
Leading  Man  in  the  County  ! — O,  wou'dn't 

that  do  ? 

Fascination  I  Fascination  !  &c. 

Then  of  Loans,  and  such  fat  things,  such  slices 

you'd  gain  ! 
Then  a  Member  of  Parliament's  Seat  you'd 

obtain ! 
Next  Knighthood — then  Baronet — and   in  a 

short  space, 
A    Peerage—  "My    Lord!"    and    at    last, 

"  Please  your  Grace  !" 

Exaltation!  Exaltation!  &c. 

Such  things  are  quite  flattering,  and  surely 

such  are, 

But  a  Pleasure  far  greater  remains  to  declare  j 
Consider,  what  Power  Wealth  and   Honour 

procure, 
To  relieve  the  Oppress'd,  and  to  succour  the 

Poor. 

Exultation !  Exultation  !  &c. 


1523 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1524 


Then   with    Patriot  Ardour  your  Country  to 

serve, 
For  Riches  are    Curses,   from*   these  if  you 

swerve  ; 
And  all  this  may  be  gain'd,   if  your  Fortune 

you  try, 
And  of  BISH,  Fortune's  Favorite,  a  Ticket  you 


buy. 


"  BISH,"  whose  bills  may  be  taken  aj 
a  specimen  of  such  kind  of  Lottery  adver- 
tisements by  whomever  issued,  will  be  ob- 
served to  have  constantly  addressed  them 
to  the  lowest  minds  and  the  meanest 
capacities.  One  more  may  further  exem- 
plify the  remark  : — 


Expectation  •  Expectation  !  &c. 


THE  AGE  OF  WONDERS. 


Tune.—"  Bang  up." 

This  is  a  Wonder  working  age,  by  all  it  is  agreed  on, 
\nd  Wonders  rise  up  ev'ry  day,  foi  public  gaze  to  feed  on ; 
To  sketch  a  few  'tis  my  intent,  while  now  I'm  in  the  mind,  sir, 
And  crown  them  all  with  one  you'll  own,  will  leave  them  far  behind, 
Then  push  along  ;  for  something  new,  the  public  taste  will  dash 
For  Wonders  now  are  all  the  rage,  and  novelty's  the  fashion. 
The  juggling  Indians  show  such  feats,  a  lady's  taste  'twould  shock  it.. 
They  swallow  swords,  and  swallow  too  the  money  from  our  pocket, 
A  gentle  fair,  by  fear  unmov'd,  with  courage  she  so  fraught  is, 
On  red-hot  iron  skips  a  dance,  and  bathes  in  aqua-fortis-. 

Then  push  along;  for  something  new,  the  public  taste  will  dash  oo 
For  Wonders  now  are  all  the  rage,  and  novelty's  the  fashion. 
The  greatest  Wonder  yet  to  tell,  which  all  the  world  surprizes, 
Is  BISH's/awoMs  Lottery,  and  BISH's  wondrous  prizes, 
Three  fifty  thousands  grace  the  scheme,  which  yet  remain  undrawn,  sir, 
A  wonder  which  was  never  known  since  any  man  was  born,  sir. 
Then  push  along,  to  BISH's  go !  of  fortune  he's  the  man,  sir, 
A  vote  of  thanks,  nem.  con.  we'll  pass  for  such  a  noble  plan,  sir.-f- 


"  BISH"  when,  what  he  called,  "  The 
Last  Lottery  of  All  !"  had  arrived,  very 
cavalierly  turned  round  on  the  govern- 
ment ;  and,  on  the  eve  of  becoming  a  can- 
didate for  a  seat  in  the  house  of  com- 
mons, paid  his  compliments  to  his  future 
colleagues  in  the  following  address : — 

To  THE  PUBLIC. 

At  the  present  moment,  when  so  many 
articles,  necessary  to  the  comforts  of  the 
poorer  classes,  are  more  or  less  liable  to 
taxation,  it  may  surely  be  a  question, 
whether  the  abolition  of  Lotteries,  by 
which  the  state  was  a  gainer  of  nearly 
half  a  million  per  annum,  be,  or  be  not, 
a  wise  measure  ! 

'Tis  true,  that,  as  they  were  formerly 
conducted,  the  system  was  fraught  with 
some  evil.  Insurances  were  allowed  upon 
the  fate  of  numbers  through  protracted 
drawings,  and  as  the  insurances  could  be 
effected  for  very  small  sums,  those  who 
could  ill  afford  loss,  imbibed  a  spirit  for 
gambling,  which  the  legislature  very 


wisely  most  effectually  prevented,  Oy 
adopting,  in  the  year  1809,  the  present 
improved  mode  of  deciding  the  whoh 
Lottery  in  one  day. 

As  it  is  at  present  conducted,  the  Lot* 
tery  is  a  voluntary  tax,  contributed  to 
only  by  those  who  can  afford  it,  and  col- 
lected without  trouble  or  expense;  one, 
by  which  many  branches  of  the  revenue 
are  considerably  aided,  and  by  means  of 
which  hundreds  of  persons  find  employ- 
ment. The  wisdom  of  those  who  at  this 
time  resign  the  income  produced  by  it. 
and  add  to  the  number  of  the  unem- 
ployed, may,  as  I  have  observed  in  a 
former  address,  surely  be  questioned. 

Mr.  Pitt,  whose  ability,  in  matters  of 
financial  arrangement,  few  will  question, 
and  whose  morality  was  proverbial,  would 
not,  I  am  bold  to  say,  have  yielded  to  an 
outcry  against  a  tax,  the  continuing  of 
which  would  have  enabled  him  to  let  the 
labourer  drink  his  humble  beverage  at  a 
reduced  price,  or  the  industrious  artisan 
to  pursue  his  occupation  by  a  cheaper 


*  Charity  and  Patriotism. 

f  T^iis  and  other  of  the  bills  quoted  arc  lent  by  our  correspondent,  J.  J .  A.  F.  from  his  Lottery 

Collections 


1525 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1526 


light.  But  we  live  in  other  times — in  the 
age  'of  improvement ! — To  stake  patri- 
monial estates  at  hazard  or  e  carte  in  the 
purlieus  of  St.  James's  is  merely  amuxe- 
tnejit,  but  to  purchase  a  ticket  in  the  Lot- 
tery, by  means  of  which  a  man  may  gain 
an  estate  at  a  trifling  risk,  is — immoral  ! 
nay,  within  a  few  hours  of  the  time  I 
write,  were  not  many  of  our  nobility  and 
senators,  some  of  whom,  I  dare  say,  voted 
against  Lotteries,  assembled  betting  thou- 
sand upon  a  horse  race  ? 

In  saying  so  much,  it  may  be  thought 
that  I  am  somewhat  presumptuous,  or  that 
I  take  a  partial  view  of  the  case.  It  is, 
however,  my  honest  opinion,  abstracted 
from  personal  considerations,  that  the 
measure  of  abolishing  Lotteries  is  an  un- 
wise one,  and  as  such  I  give  it  to  that 
public,  of  whom  I  have  been  for  many 
years  the  highly  favoured  servant,  and  for 
whose  patronage,  though  Lotteries  cease, 
my  gratitude  will  ever  continue. 

As  one  of  the  last  contractors,  I  have 
assisted  in  arranging  a  scheme,  &,c  !  &c  ! ! 
&c  ! ! !  

After  this,  perhaps,  the  reader  may  ex- 
claim "  I  am  satisfied  !"  and  therefore, 
as  we  have  the  assurance  of  Mr.  Bish  that 
there  will  "  never  be  another  Lottery"  to 
be  lamented,  the  time  has  arrived  for  sub- 
joining the  following 

(Epftapft. 

In  Memory  of 
THE  STATE  LOTTERY, 

the  last' of  a  long  line 
whose  origin  in  England  commenced 

in  the  year  1569,* 

which,  after  a  series  of  tedious  complaints, 
Expired 
on  the 

18th  day  of  October,  1826. 

During  a  period  of  257  years,  the  family 

flourished  under  the  powerful  protection 

of  the 

British  Parliament; 
the  minister  of  the  day  continuing  to 
give  them  his  support  for  the  improve- 
ment of  the  revenue. 

As  they  increased,  it  was  found  that  their 
continuance  corrupted  the  morals, 

and  encouraged  a  spirit 
of  Speculation  and  Gambling  among  the 

lower  classes  of  the  people  ; 
thousands  of  whom  fell  victims  to  their 


insinuating    and    tempting  allurements. 
Many  philanthropic  individuals 

in  the  Senate, 

at  various  times  for  a  series  of  years, 
pointed  out  their  baneful  influence 

without  effect, 

His  Majesty's  Ministers 

still  affording  them  their  countenance 

and  protection. 

The  British  Parliament. 

being  at  length  convinced  of  their 

mischievous  tendency, 
His  MAJESTY  GEORGE  IV., 

on  the  9th  July,  1823,* 
pronounced  sentence  of  condemnation 

on  the  whole  race  ; 
from  which  time  they  were  almost 

NEGLECTED     BY     THE     BRITISH     PUBLIC. 

Very  great  efforts  were  made  by  the 
Partisans   and  friends   of  the  family  to 

excite 
the  public  feeling  in  favour  of  the  last 

qf  the  race,  in  vain  : 
It  continued  to  linger  out  the  few 

remaining 

moments  of  its  existence  without  attention 
or  sympathy,  and  finally  terminated 
I        its  career  unregretted  by  any 
virtuous  mind. 

-     W.P. 


*  See  ante. 


A  few  remarkable  facts,  which  were 
omitted  in  the  proper  order  of  narration, 
are  now  inserted. 

ANCIENT  LOTTERY. 
About  1612  king  James  I.,  "in  special 
favour  for  the  plantation  of  English  co- 
lonies in  Virginia,' granted  a  Lottery  to  be 
held  at  the  west  end  of  St.  Paul's  ;  whereof 
one  Thomas  Sharplys,  a  taylor  of  London, 
had  the  chief  prize,  which  was  four  thou- 
sand crowns  in  fair  plate."f 

A  DOUBLE  MISTAKE. 
Old  Baron  d'Aguilar,  the  Islington 
miser,  was  requested  by  a  relation  to 
purchase  a  particular  ticket,  No.  14,068, 
in  the  Lottery  to  be  drawn  in  the  year 
1802,  (but  which  was  sold  some  few  days 
before).  The  baron  died  on  the  16th  of 
March  following,  and  the  number  was  the 

*  The  day  the  royal  assent  was  given  to  the  last 
Lottery  act. 
t  Baker's  Chronicle. 


1527 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1528 


first-drawn  ticket  on  the  24th,  and,  as 
such,  entitled  to  twenty  thousand  pounds. 
The  baron's  representatives,  under  these 
circumstances,  therefore  published  an 
advertisement,  offering  a  reward  of  1000/. 
to  any  person  who  might  have  found  the 
said  ticket,  and  would  deliver  it  up. 
Payment  was  stopped.  A  wholesale 
linen-draper,  in  Cornhill,  who  had  ordered 
his  broker  to  buy  him  ten  tickets,  which 
he  deposited  in  his  chest,  on  copying  the 
numbers,  for  the  purpose  of  examining 
them,  made  a  mistake  of  one  figure,  and 
called  it  14,168  instead  of  14,068,  which 
was  the  20,000/.  prize.  The  lottery  being 
finished,  he  sent  ten  tickets  to  be  examined 
and  marked.  To  his  utter  astonishment, 
he  then  found  the  error  of  the  number 
copied  on  his  paper.  On  his  demanding 
payment  at  the  lottery  office,  a  caveat 
was  entered  by  old  d'Aguilar's  executors ; 
but  an  explanation  taking  place,  the 
20,000/.  was  immediately  paid  him. 


CHRISTOPHER  BARTHOLOMEW. 

This  person,  who  inherited  a  good  for- 
tune from  his  parents,  was  prosperous  in 
his  business,  and  had  every  prospect  of 
success  and  eminence  in  life,  fell  a  victim 
to  an  unconquerable  itch  for  gambling  in 
the  Lottery.  At  one  time,  the  White- 
conduit-house,  with  its  tea-gardens  and 
other  premises,  as  also  the  Angel-inn,  now 
the  best  tavern  in  Islington,  were  his 
freeholds :  and  he  rented  land  to  the 
amount  of  2000/.  a  year,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  that  place,  and  Holloway. 
He  was  remarkable  for  having  the  greatest 
quantity  of  haystacks  of  any  grower  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  London.  He  kept 
his  carriage  and  servants  in  livery,  and 
was  believed  to  have  been  worth  50,000/. 
He  was  not  only  the  proprietor,  but  the 
landlord  of  White-conduit-house,  to 
which,  by  his  taste  in  laying  out  its 
grounds,  and  the  manner  of  conducting 
his  business,  he  attracted  great  custom. 
On  one  occasion,  having  been  unusually 
successful  in  the  Lottery,  he  gave  a  public 
breakfast  at  his  tea-gardens,  "  to  com- 
memorate the  smiles  of  Fortune,"  as  he 
so  expressed  himself  upon  the  tickets  of 
admission  at  \\\\sfete  champetre. 

At  times  he  was  very  fortunate  in  the 
Lottery,  and  this  tended  to  increase  the 
mania  which  hurried  him  to  his  ruin.  He 
was  known  to  have  spent  upwards  of 
2000  guineas  in  a  day  for  insurance,  to 
raise  vhich,  stack  after  stack  of  his  im- 


mense crops  of  hay  were  cut  down  and 
hurried  to  market,  as  the  readiest  way  to 
obtain  the  supplies  for  these  extraordinary 
outgoings  ;  and  at  last  he  was  obliged  to 
part  with  his  freehold,  from  accumulated 
difficulties  and  embarrassments,  and  he 
passed  the  remaining  thirteen  years  of 
his  life  in  great  poverty,  subsisting  by  the 
charity  of  those  who  knew  him  in  "  better 
days,"  and  by  the  paltry  emolument  he 
derived  from  serving  as  a  juryman  in 
the  sheriff's  court  for  the  county.  His 
propensity  to  the  Lottery,  even  under 
these  degrading  difficulties,  never  forsook 
him.  Meeting  one  day,  in  the  year  1807, 
with  an  old  acquaintance,  he  told  him  he 
had  a  strong  presentiment,  that  if  he 
could  purchase  a  particular  number  in 
the  ensuing  Lottery  it  would  prove  suc- 
cessful. His  friend,  after  remonstrating 
with  him  on  the  impropriety  of  persever- 
ing in  a  practice  that  had  been  already 
attended  with  such  evil  consequences, 
was  at  last  persuaded  to  advance  the 
money  to  purchase  a  sixteenth,  and  go 
halves  with  him  in  the  adventure.  It 
was  drawn  a  prize  of  20,000/.,  and  from 
the  proceeds  from  this  extraordinary  turn 
of  fortune,  he  was  prevailed  upon  to 
purchase  an  annuity  of  60/.  per  annum. 
Totally  addicted,  however,  to  the  per- 
nicious habit  of  insurance,  he  disposed  of 
his  annuity,  and  lost  every  shilling  of  the 
money  ;  yet  such  was  the  meanness  of  his 
mind  and  circumstances,  that  he  fre- 
quently applied  to  persons  who  had  been 
served  by  him  in  his  prosperity,  for  an 
old  coat,  or  some  other  article  of  cast 
apparel ;  and  not  many  days  before  he 
died,  he  begged  a  few  shillings  to  purchase 
necessaries. 

Bartholomew  in  intellect  and  manners 
was  superior  to  the  generality  of  men, 
and  at  one  time  possessed  the  esteem  of 
all  who  knew  him.  His  fate  may  be  a 
warning  to  all  ranks,  particularly  to  those 
who  are  in  trade,  not  to  engage  in  ha- 
zardous pursuits.  He  died  in  a  two  pair 
of  stairs  room,  in  Angel-court,  Windmill- 
street,  in  the  Hay  market,  in  March,  1809, 
aged  68.* 

A  correspondent  refers  to  Rees's  Cyclo- 
paedia as  containing  a  good  account  of 
Lotteries,  with  table  of  chances  relative 
to  their  schemes ;  and  he  adds,  that  Dr. 
Kelly,  the  well-known  calculator,  assured 
him  he  had  ascertained  that  the  chances  of 

*  Mr.  Nelson's  History  of  Islington. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1530 


obtaining  certain  prizes  were  even  more 
against  the  adventurer  than  would  appear 
by  those  tables. 

When  the  tickets  were  publicly  drawn 
;n  Guildhall,  and  the  drawing  was  pro- 
tracted for  several  weeks,  it  was  a  curious 
sight  for  an  indifferent  spectator  to  go  and 
behold  the  visages  of  the  anxious  crowd  ; 
to  mark  the  hopes  and  the  fears  that 
seemed  to  agitate  them,  as  their  numbers 
or  numbers  near  to  theirs  were  announced. 
It  is  a  fact,  that  poor  medical  practitioners 
used  constantly  to  attend  in  the  hall,  to 
be  ready  to  let  blood,  in  cases  where  the 
sudden  proclaiming  of  the  fate  of  tickets 
in  the  hearing  of  the  holders  of  them,  was 
found  to  have  an  overpowering  effect 
upon  their  spirits.  The  late  Mr.  Dal- 
mahoy,  of  Ludgate-hill,  was  accustomed  to 
affirm,  that  he  owed  his  first  establish- 
ment in  a  business  which  afterwards 
proved  so  prosperous,  to  the  gratitude  of 
a  person,  to  whose  assistance,  when  a 
young  man,  he  had  stept  in,  upon  one  of 
those  critical  emergencies.* 

ORIGIN  OF  LOTTERIES. 


were  generally  given  out,  and  the  posses- 
sors, on  presenting  them  at  the  store  or 
magazine  of  the  donor,  received  those 
things  which  they  announced.  In  many 
cases,  these  tickets  were  distributed  to 
every  person  who  applied  for  them,  and 
then  these  donations  resembled  our  dis- 
tribution of  bread,  but  not  our  Lotteries, 
in  which  chance  must  determine  the  num- 
ber of  those  who  were  to  participate  in 
the  number  of  things  distributed.  In 
the  course  of  time,  the  Roman  populace 
was  called  together,  and  the  articles  dis- 
tributed thrown  to  them  from  a  stage. 
Such  things  were  called  missilia,  and  be- 
longed to  those  who  had  the  good  fortune 
to  catch  them  ;  but  as  oil,  wine,  corn,  and 
such  like  articles,  could  not  be  distributed 
in  this  manner,  and  as  other  articles  were 
injured  by  the  too  great  eagerness  of  the 
people,  tokens  or  tickets  were  thrown  in 
their  stead.  These  were  square  pieces  of 
wood  or  metal,  and  sometimes  balls  of 
wood v  inscribed  with  the  names  of  the 
articles.  Those  who  had  obtained  these 
tesserae  were  allowed  to  transfer  or  sell 
them.* 


Under  "Lottery,7  an  antiquary  refers 
to  the  pittacia  of  Petronius.  The  Romans 
issued  gratis,  to  their  visitors  in  the  Sa- 
turnalia, tickets  which  were  all  prizes, 
and  marked  with  inscriptions  called  apo- 
phoreta.  The  Lotteries  of  Augustus  were 

promtsed  land  into  Lottery  prizes  before     mere  bagatelles  for  sport;  Nero's  were  very 
it  was  conquered/      In  his  opinion,  the    costly  .  those  of  Heliogabatus  ridiculous; 

as,  a  ticket  for  six  slaves,  another  for  six 
flies,  &c.  these  were    handed    round   in 


The  historian  of  "  Inventions"  says, 
that  if,  as  some  had  done,  he  were  to 
"  reckon  among  the  first  traces  of  Lotteries 
every  division  of  property  made  by  lot,  it 
might  be  said  that  Joshua  partitioned  the 


peculiarity  of  Lotteries  consists  in  their 
numbers  being  distributed  gratuitously, 
or,  as  in  public  Lotteries,  for  a  certain 
price  ;  it  being  left  to  chance  to  determine 
what  numbers  were  to  obtain  the  prizes, 
the  value  of  which  had  been  previously 
settled.  He  speaks  of  the  "  conditions 
and  changes  invented  by  ingenuity  to 
entice  people  to  purchase  shares,  and  to 
conceal  and  increase  the  gain  of  the  un- 
dertakers f  and,  of  the  "delusion  they 
occasion  to  credulous  and  ignorant  people, 
by  exciting  hopes  that  have  little  proba- 
bility in  their  favour."  He  deems  that 
the  hint  of  modern  Lottery  was  derived 
from  the  Romans.  The  rich  persons  at 
Rome,  and  particularly  the  emperors, 
endeavoured  to  attach  the  people  by  dis- 
tributing among  them  presents  consisting 
of  eatables  and  other  expensive  articles, 
which  were  named  congiaria.  Tokens, 
or  tickets,  called  tesserae  (in  Greek  <r^So>.a,) 

*  A  few  interesting  Anecdotes,  &c.  Itfmo.  1810. 


Imitations,  on  a  reduced  scale,  of  the 
Roman  congiaria  have  amused  the  conti- 
nental princes  aijd  princesses  of  modern 
times.  They  distribute  small  presents  to 
their  courtiers,  by  causing  trinkets  or  toys 
to  be  marked  with  numbers  ;  the  numbers 
being  written  on  separate  tickets,  which 
are  rolled  up  and  put  into  a  small  basket 
or  basin.J 

In  Italy,  during  the  middle  ages,  the 
merchants  or  shop-keepers,  in  order  to 
sell  their  wares  more  speedily  and  ad- 
vantageously, converted  their  shops  into 
offices  of  luck,  where  each  person,  for  a 


*  Beckinann. 

T  Foshroke,  fcn«.y.  of  Antiquities. 
{  Beckmaun. 


1531 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1532 


small  sum,  was  allowed  to  draw  a  number 
from  the  jar  of  fortune,  which  entitled  the 
holder  to  the  artide  written  upon  it ;  but 
as  these  shop-keepers  gained  excessive 
Drofits,  and  cheated  tne  credulous  people, 
oy  setting  on  their  wares  an  extravagant 
price,  which  was  concealed  by  the  blanks, 
these  practices  were  prohibited,  or  per- 
mitted only  under  strict  inspection,  and 
on  paying  a  certain  sum  to  the  poor,  or 
the  sovereign. 

From  hence  was  derived  the  modern 
Lottery  of  the  continent,  when  articles  of 
merchandise  were  no  longer  employed  as 
prizes,  but  certain  sums  of  money  instead, 
the  amount  of  which  was  determined  by 
the  amount  of  money  received,  after  the 
expenses  and  gain  of  the  conductors  were 
deducted.  In  these  Lotteries,  the  tickets 
*ere  publicly  drawn  by  the  charity  boys, 
blindfolded.  As  they  could  not  be  con- 
ducted without  defrauding  the  adven- 
turers, it  was  at  first  believed,  through 
old-fashioned  conscientiousness,  ttyat  it 
was  unlawful  to  take  advantage  of  the 
folly  and  credulity  of  the  people,  except 
for  pious  or  charitable  purposes.  The 
gains  were  sometimes  applied  to  the 
portioning  of  poor  young  women,  the 
redemption  of  captives,  or  the  formation 
of  funds  for  the  indigent,  and  other  beni- 
ficent  objects.  It  was  vainly  imagined, 
that  these  public  games  of  hazard  would 
banish  others  still  more  dangerous  ;  nor 
was  it  foreseen,  that  the  exposure  of  tickets 
for  sale,  and  their  division  into  shares, 
would  maintain  and  diffuse  a  spirit  of 
gambling.  This,  however,  was  the  result, 
and  the  profit  from  Lotteries  became  so 
great,  that  princes  and  ministers  were  in- 
duced to  employ  them  as  operations  of 
finance :  the  people  were  forbidden  to 
purchase  tickets  in  foreign  Lotteries,  and, 
in  order  that  the  tickets  of  the  state  might 
be  disposed  of  sooner,  and  with  more 
certainty,  many  rulers  were  so  shameless 
as  to  pay  part  of  the  salaries  of  their  ser- 
vants in  tickets,  and  to  compel  guild 
companies  and  societies  to  expend  in 
Lotteries  what  money  they  had  saved. 
In  1764,  this  abuse  was  mentioned  by  the 
states  of  Wirtemburg  among  the  public 
grievances,  and  in  1770  the  duke  pro- 
mised that  it  should  be  abolished. 


So  early  as  1521,  the  council  ofOsnaburg, 
in  Germany,  established  a  Lottery  with 
wearing  articles  of  merchandise  for  the 
prizes  In  1615,  the  magistrates  of  Ham- 


burgh sanctioned  a  Lottery  for  building 
a  house  of  correction  in  that  city.  An 
engraving  is  mentioned  with  the  follow- 
ing title,  "  Representation  of  the  Lofo 
Publico,  which  was  drawn  in  the  large  ha!l 
of  the  council-house  at  Nuremburg,  anno 
1715."  This  is  supposed  to  have  been 
the  first  Lottery  in  that  city.  The  first 
Lottery  at  Berlin  was  drawn  in  July, 
1740;  it  contained  20,000  tickets  at  five 
dollars  each;  there  were  4028  prizes ;  and 
the  capital  one  was  a  house  worth  24,000 
dollars. 


In  1549,  a  Lottery  was  drawn  at  Am- 
sterdam for  the  building  a  church  steeple  ; 
and  another  at  Delft  in  1595.  In  the 
hospital  for  old  men,  at  Amsterdam,  there 
is  a  beautiful  painting  by  Daniel  Vincken- 
booms,  which  represents  the  drawing  of 
a  Lottery  in  the  night  time.  He  was  born 
about  1578,  and  died  in  1629. 


In  France,  whither  the  Lottery  was  in- 
troduced from  Italy,  it  was  set  on  foot  by 
merchants,  and  the  only  prizes  were  arti- 
cles of  merchandise:  but,  in  1£39, 
Francis  I.  endeavoured  to  turn  them  to 
his  own  advantage.  He  permitted  them 
under  the  inspection  of  certain  mem- 
bers of  the  government,  with  a  view,  as 
was  pretended,  of  banishing  deceptive 
and  pernicious  games  of  chance ;  but  on 
condition  that  he  should  receive  for  every 
ticket  a  teston  de  dix  sols  six  deniers. 
It  appears,  however,  from  a  royal  order 
of  recommendation,  in  February,  1541, 
that  this  Lottery  was  not  then  completed, 
and  it  is  not  known  whether  it  ever  was. 


In  1572  and  1588,  Louis  de  Gonzague 
due  de  Nivernois  established  a  Lottery  at 
Paris,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  marriage 
portions  to  poor  virtuous  youffg  women 
on  his  estates.  The  prize  tickets  were 
inscribed  Dieii  vous  a  6lu&^  or,  Dieu  vous 
console  ;  the  former  insured  to  the  young 
woman  who  drew  it  500  francs  on  her 
wedding-day  ;  the  latter,  inscribed  on 
the  blanks,  suggested  the  hope  of  better 
fortune  the  year  following.  No  Lottery 
was  ever  drawn  with  so  much  ceremony 
and  parade.  Pope  Sextus  V.  promised 
those  who  promoted  it  the  remission  of 
their  sins :  and,  before  the  drawing,  which 
began  every  year  on  Palm  Sunday,  rrass 
was  said. 


1533 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1534 


Ladies  of  quality  were  induced  by  this 
example  to  establish  similar  Lotteries  for 
the  building  or  repairing  of  churches  or 
convents,  and  other  religious  or  benevo- 
lent purposes.  Three  ladies  set  on  foot  a 
Lottery  with  tickets  at  40  sous  each,  for 
redeeming  persons  who  had  fallen  into 
slavery  among  the  Turks.  Some  other 
ladies  instituted  a  Lottery  in  behalf  of 
their  confessor,  who  had  been  made  a 
bishop,  that  they  might  buy  him  a  car- 
xiage  and  horses,  with  othei  requisites,  to 
support  his  episcopal  dignity. 

French  history  records  the  institution  of 
many  Lotteries  as  the  means  employed  to 
make  valuable  presents  to  ladies,  and 
other  persons  of  distinction.  It  is  sup- 
posed the  largest  of  the  kind  was  one  de- 
signed by  cardinal  Mazarine,  to  increase 
his  splendour  and  popularity  among  the 
courtiers.  The  tickets  were  distributed 
as  presents.* 


Louis  XIV.,  on  the  days  which  were 
not  fast  days,  went  to  dine  at  Marly  with 
madame  de  Maintenon  and  other  ladies. 
After  dinner,  the  minister  who  wished  to 
converse  with  him  arrived,  and  when  his 
business  was  finished,  if  they  did  not 
walk,  he  conversed,  listened  to  music, 
played  at  cards,  or  helped  to  draw  Lot- 
teries, the  tickets  of  which  cost  nothing, 
but  were  all  prizes.  They  were  composed 
of  trinkets,  jewels,  and  silks;  but  there 
were  never  any  snuff-boxes,  because  he 
could  not  endure  snuff,  or  suffer  those 
who  used  it  to  approach  him.-f 

In  the  seventeenth  century  these  games 
of  chance  grew  into  Lotteries,  in  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word.  During  a 
scarcity  of  money  which  prevailed^  in 
1644,  Lawrence  Tonti  came  from  Naples 
to  Paris,  and  proposed  that  kind  of  life- 
rents,  or  annuities,  which  are  named  after 
him  Tontines  ;  though  they  were  used  in 
Italy  long  before  his  time.  After  tedious 
disputes,  his-  proposal  was  rejected  ;  for 
which,  in  1556,  he  substituted,  with  the 
royal  approbation,  a  large  Lottery  in 
order  to  raise  funds  for  building  a  stone 
bridge  and  an  aqueduct.  This  Lottery 
was  never  completed,  and  consequently 
never  drawn;  and  a  wooden  bridge  was 
constructed,  instead  of  that  which  had 
been  burnt.  The  first  Lottery  on  the 


*  Beckmann. 
f  Pritate  Life  of  Louis  XIV. 


plan  of  Tonti  was  set  on  foot  at  Paris  in 
1660,  when  the  conclusion  of  peace,  and 
the  marriage  of  Lous  XIV.,  were  cele- 
brated. It  was  drawn  publicly,  under  the 
inspection  of  the  police.  The  price  of 
each  ticket  was  a  Louis  d'or,  which  at 
that  time  was  only  eleven  livres ;  and  the 
highest  prize  was  a  hundred  thousand 
livres.  This  was  gained  by  the  king  him- 
self, but  he  would  not  receive  it,  and  left 
it  to  the  next  Lottery,  in  which  he  had  no 
ticket.  In  1661,  all  private  Lotteries 
were  prohibited  under  severe  penalties, 
and  from  that  time  there  were  no  other 
Lotteries  than  the  Loteriea  royales* 


The  ill-famed  Italian  or  Genoese  Lot- 
tery in  Germany  was,  as  its  name  shows, 
an  invention  of  the  Genoese,  and  arose 
from  the  mode  in  which  the  members  of 
the  senate  were  elected  ;  for  when  that 
republic  existed  in  a  state  of  freedom,  the 
names  of  the  eligible  candidates  were 
thrown  into  a  vessel  called  seminario,  or, 
in  modern  times,  into  awheel  of  fortune; 
and  during  the  drawings  of  them  it  was 
customary  for  people  to  lay  bets  in  re- 
gard to  those  who  might  be  successful. 
That  is  to  say,  one  chose  the  name  of  two 
or  three  nobili,  for  these  only  could  be 
elected,  and  ventured  upon  them,  accord- 
ing to  pleasure,  a  piece  of  money;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  opposite  party,  or 
the  undertaker  of  the  bank,  who  had  the 
means  of  forming  a  pretty  accurate  con- 
jecture in  regard  to  names  that  would  be 
drawn,  doubled  the  stakes  several  times. 
Afterwards  the  state  itself  undertook  the 
bank  for  these  bets,  which  was  attended 
with  so  much  advantage ;  and  the  draw- 
ing of  the  names  was  performed  with 
great  ceremony.  The  venerabilc  was  ex- 
posed, and  high  mass  was  celebrated,  at 
which  all  the  candidates  were  obliged  to 
be  present. 

A  member  of  the  senate,  named  Bene- 
detto Gentile,  is  said  to  have  first  intro- 
duced this  Lottery,  in  the  year  1620  ;  and 
it  is  added,  that  the  name  of  Gentile 
having  never  been  drawn,  the  people  took 
it  into  their  heads  that  he,  and  his  names, 
had  been  carried  away  by  the  devil.  But 
at  length,  the  wheel  being  taken  to  pieces 
in  order  to  be  mended,  the  name,  which 
by  some  accident  had  never  been  drawn 
was  found  concealed  in  it. 

*  Becknaiiu. 


1535 


TI1R  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— LOTTERIES. 


1536 


This  mode  of  Lottery  is  presumed  to 
have  been  peculiar  to  the  Genoese,  who, 
for  their  own  benefit  established  in  many 
continential  towns  commissioners,  to  dis- 
pose of  tickets,  and  to  pay  the  prizes  to 
those  who  had  been  fortunate. 


These  pernicious  Lotteries  continued 
till  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
when  they  were  almost  every  where  abo- 
lished and  forbidden.  To  the  honour  of 
the  Hanoverian  government,  no  Lotto 
was  ever  introduced  into  it,  though 
many  foreigners  offered  large  sums  for 
permission  to  cheat  the  people  in  this 
manner.  Those  who  wish  to  see  the 
prohibitions  issued  against  the  Lotto, 
after  making  a  great  part  of  the  people 
lazy,  indigent,  and  thievish,  may  find 
them  in  Schlozer's  Staats-Anzeigen, 

Si  son  execrable  memoire 

Parvient  a  la  posterite, 
C'est  que  le  crime,  aussi  bien  que  la  gloire, 

Conduit  a  1'immortalite.* 


THE  LAST  LOTTERY  IN  ENGLAND. 

ELIA  says,  in  the  "  New  Monthly  Mag- 
azine,"— "  The  true  mental  epicure  al- 
ways purchased  his  ticket  early,  and  post- 
poned inquiry  into  its  fate  to  the  last 
possible  moment,  during  the  whole  of 
which  intervening  period  he  had  an  ima- 
ginary twenty  thousand  locked  up  in  his 
desk — and  was  not  this  well  worth 
all  the  money  ?  Who  would  scruple  to 
give  twenty  pounds  interest  for  even  the 
ideal  enjoyment  of  as  many  thousands 
during  two  or  three  months  ?  '  Crede 
quod  habes,  et  habes,'  and  the  usufruct  of 
such  a  capital  is  surely  not  dear  at  such 
a  price.  Some  years  ago>  a-  gentleman  in 
passing  along  Cheapside  saw  the  figures 
1069,  of  which  number  he  was  the  sole 
proprietor,  flaming  on  the  window  of  a 
Lottery  office  as  a  capital  prize.  Some- 
what flurried  by  this  discovery,  not  less 
welcome  than  unexpected,  he  resolved  to 
walk  round  St.  Paul's,  that  he  might  con- 
sider in  what  way  to  communicate  the 
happy  tidings  to  his  wife  and  family ; 
out  upon  repassing  the  shop,  he  observed 
that  the  number  was  altered  to  10,069; 
and,  upon  inquiry,  had  the  mortification  to 
learn  that  his  ticket  was  blank,  and  had 
only  been  stuck  up  in  the  window  by  a 
mistake  of  the  clerk.  This  effectually 
calmed  his  agitation;  but  he  always  speaks 

*  Beckmana. 


of  himself  as  having  once  possessed 
twenty  thousand  pounds,  and  maintains 
that  his  ten  minutes'  walk  round  St. 
Paul's  was  worth  ten  times  the  purchase- 
money  of  the  ticket.  A  prize  thus  ob- 
tained has  moreover  this  special  advan- 
tage ; — it  is  beyond  the  reach  of  fate,  it 
cannot  be  squandered,  bankruptcy  cannot 
lay  siege  to  it,  friends  cannot  pull  it 
down,  nor  enemies  blow  it  up  ;  it  bears 
a  charmed  life,  and  »one  of  woman-born 
can  break  its  integrity,  even  by  the  dissi- 
pation of  a  single  fraction.  Show  me 
the  property  in  these  perilous  times  that 
is  equally  compact  and  impregnable.  We 
can  no  longer  become  enriched  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour ;  we  can  no  longer 
succeed  in  such  splendid  failures ;  all  our 
chances  of  making  such  a  miss  have  van- 
ished with  the  Last  of  the  Lotteries. 

"  Life  will  now  become  a  flat,  prosaic 
routine  of  matter-of-fact ;  and  sleep  itself, 
erst  so  prolific  of  numerical  configura- 
tions and  mysterious  stimulants  to  Lot- 
tery adventure,  will  be  disfurnished  of  its 
figures  and  figments.  People  will  cease 
to  harp  upon  the  one  lucky  number  sug- 
gested in  a  dream,  and  which  forms  the 
exception,  while  they  are  scrupulously 
silent  upon  the  ten  thousand  falsified 
dreams  which  constitute  the  rule.  Mor- 
pheus will  stifle  Cocker  with  a  handful  of 
poppies,  and  our  pillows  will  be  no  longer 
haunted  by  the  book  of  numbers. 

"  And  who,  too,  shall  maintain  the  art 
and  mystery  of  puffing  in  all  its  pristine 
glory  when  the  Lottery  professors  shall 
have  abandoned  its  cultivation  ?  They 
were  the  first,  as  they  will  assuredly  be 
the  last,  who  fully  developed  the  resources 
of  that  ingenious  art ;  who  cajoled  and 
decoyed  the  most  suspicious  and  wary 
reader  into  a  perusal  of  their  advertise- 
ments, by  devices  of  endless  variety  and 
cunning;  who  baited  their  lurking 
schemes  with  midnight  murders,  ghost 
stories,  crim-cons,  bon-mots,  balloons, 
dreadful  catastrophes,  and  every  diversity 
of  joy  and  sorrow  to  catch  newspaper- 
gudgeons.  Ought  not  such  talents  to  be 
encouraged  ?  Verily,  the  abolitionists 
have  much  to  answer  for  !" 


Here,  at  last,  ends  the  notices  respect 
ing  the  Lottery,  of  which  much  has  been 
said,  because  of  all  depraving  institutions 
it  had  the  largest  share  in  debasing  society 
while  it  existed  :  and  because,  after  all, 
perhaps,  the,  monster  is  "  only  scotched 
not  killed." 


1537 


THE  EVEU>    DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  16. 


1538 


13. 


JNARY  LUNAR  HALO. 

<Jn  the  night  of  this  day  in  1823,  about 
nail  past  nine  o'clock,  Dr.  T.  Forster  ob- 
served a  very  remarkable  and  brilliant 
phenomenon  about  the  moon.  It  was  a 
coloured  discoid  halo,  consisting  of  six 
several  concentric  circles  ;  the  nearest  to 
the  moon,  or  the  first  disk  around  her, 
being  dull  white,  then  followed  circles  of 
orange,  violet,  crimson,  green,  and  ver- 
million  ;  the  latter,  or  outermost,  subtend- 
ing in  its  diameter  an  angle  of  above  ten 
degrees.  This  phenomenon  was  evidently 
produced  by  a  refraction  in  the  white 
mist  of  a  stratus,  which  prevailed  through 
the  night,  but  it  varied  in  its  colours,  as 
well  as  in  its  brilliancy,  at  different  times.* 


NATURALISTS  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  43  •  00. 


WHIMS  AND  ODDITIES. 
The  company  of  odd-looking  person- 
ages playing  at  nine-pins  in  the  hollow  of 
the  wild  mountain,  were  not  greater  ob- 
jects of  wonder  to  Rip  Van  Winkle,  than 
forty  original  designs  by  Mr.  Hood  will 
be  to  the  reader  who  looks  for  the  first 


time   at  this  gentleman's    "  Whims  and 
Oddities."* 

All  the  world  knows,  or  ought  to  know, 
that  among  persons  called  literary  there 
are  a  few  peculiarly  littery  ;  who  master 
an  article  through  confusion  of  head  and 
materials,  and,  having  achieved  the  setting 
of  their  thoughts  and  places  "  to  rights," 
celebrate  the  important  victory  by  the 
triumph  of  a  short  repose.  At  such  a 
minute,  after  -my  last  toilsome  adventure 
in  the  "  Lottery,"  sitting  in  my  little 
room  before  the  fire,  and  looking  into  it 
with  the  comfortable  knowledge  that  the 
large  table  behind  me  was  "  free  from  all 
incumbrances,"  I  yearned  for  a  recreative 
dip  into  something  new,  when  Mr.  Hood's 
volume,  in  a  parcel  bearing  the  super- 
scription of  a  kind  hand,  was  put  into 
mine.  It  came  in  the  very  nick  ;  and,  as  I 
amused  myself,  I  resolved  to  be  thence- 
forth, and  therefrom,  as  agreeable  as  pos- 
sible to  my  readers. 

On  the  title-page  of  Mr.  Hood's  book 
is  this  motto,  "  O  Cicero  !  Cicero  !  if  to 
pun  be  a  crime,  'tis  a  crime  I  have  learned 
of  thee  :  O  Bias  !  Bias  !  if  to  pun  be  a 
crime,  by  thy  example  I  was  biassed  !  — 
Scriblerns." 

The  fiist  engraving  that  opened  on  me 
was  of 


A  DREAM. 


In  this  figure,   "  a  medley  of  human     "  tried  to  typify  a  common  characteristic  of 
faces,  wherein  certain  features  belong  in     dreams ;    namely,   the   entanglement    of 


common  to  different  visages, — the  eyebrow 
if  one,  for  instance,  forming  the  mouth  of 
another," — Mr.  Hood  has  successfully 


*  The  varieties  and  causes  of  these  phenomena  are 
Ascribed  in  Dr.  For&tei's  "  Researches  fibout  Atmo- 
spheric Phenomena,"  3d  edition,  p.  98. 

VOL.  II.— 101 


divers  ideas,  to  the  waking  mind  distinct 
or  incongruous,  but,  by  the  confusion  of 

*  "  Whims  and  Oddities,  in  Prose  and  Verse' 
with  forty  original  designs  by  Thomas  Hood,  one  of 
the  authors  of 'Odes  and  Addresses  to  Great  People, 
and  the  designer  of  the  Progress  of  Cant,  London, 
Relte,  ,826."  I2mo.  10i  6d. 


1539 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK —NOVEMBER  16. 


1540 


•sleep,  inseparably  ravelled  up,  arid  knotted 
into  Gordian  intricacies.  For,  as  the 
equivocal  feature,  in  the  emblem,  belongs 
indifferently  to  either  countenance,  but  is 
appropriated  by  the  head  that  happens  to 
be  presently  the  object  of  contemplation ; 
so,  in  a  dream,  two  separate  notions  will 
mutually  involve  some  convertible  inci- 
dent, that  becomes,  by  turns,  a  symptom 
of  both  in  general,  or  of  either  in  parti- 
cular. Thus  are  begotten  the  most  extra- 
vagant associations  of  thoughts  and 
images, — unnatural  connections,  like  those 
marriages  of  forbidden  relationships,  where 
mothers  become  cousins  to  their  own  sons 
or  daughters,  and  quite  as  bewildering  as 
such  genealogical  embarrassments.'' 

As  an  illustration  of  this  kind  of  dream, 
the  author  relates  a  dismal  one,  "  which 
originated  in  the  failure  of  his  first  and 
last  attempt  as  a  dramatic  writer;"  and 
another,  wherein  the  preliminaries  were 
pleasant,  and  the  conclusion  was  whimsi- 
cal. **  It  occurred,"  says  Mr.  Hood, 
"  when  I  was  on  the  eve  of  marriage ;  a 
season,  when,  if  lovers  sleep  sparingly, 
they  dream  .profusely.  A  very  brief  slum- 
ber sufficed  to  carry  me  in  the  night- 
coach  to  Bognor.  It  had  been  concerted, 
between  Honoria  and  myself,  that  we 
should  pass  the  honeymoon  at  some  such 
place  upon  the  coast.  The  purpose  of 
my  solitary  journey  was  to  procure  an 
appropriate  dwelling,  and  which,  we  had 
agreed,  should  be  a  little  pleasant  house, 
with  an  indispensable  look  out  upon  the 
sea.  I  chose  one,  accordingly  ;  a  pretty 
villa,  with  bow-windows,  and  a  prospect 
delightfully  marine.  The  ocean  murmur 
sounded  incessantly  from  the  beach.  A 
decent,  elderly  body,  in  decayed  sables, 
undertook,  on  her  part,  to  promote  the 
comforts  of  the  occupants  by  every  suit- 
able attention,  and,  as  she  assured  me,  at 
a  very  reasonable  rate.  So  far,  the  noc- 
turnal faculty  had  served  me  truly.  A 
day-dream  could  not  have  proceeded 
more  orderly ;  but,  alas,  just  here,  when 
the  dwelling  was  selected,  the  sea  view 
secured,  the  rent  agreed  upon,  when 
every  thing  was  plausible,  consistent,  and 
rational,  the  incoherent  fancy  crept  in 
and  confounded  all, — by  marrying  me  to 
the  old  woman  of  the  house  ! " 

Because  it  never  happened  that  Mr. 
Hood  in  his  dreams  fancied  himself  de- 
prived of  any  sense,  he  was  greatly  puz- 
zled by  this  question, — 

"  How  does  a  BLIND  man  dream  .<?" 
"  I    mean"   says    Mr.    "  II  •«  a    person 


with  the  opaque  crystal  from  his  birth. 
He  is  defective  in  that  very  faculty  which, 
of  all  others,  is  most  active  in  those  night- 
passages,  thence  emphatically  called 
Visions.  He  has  had  no  acquaintance 
with  external  images  ;  and  has,  therefore, 
none  of  those  transparent  pictures  that, 
like  the  slides  of  a  magic-lantern,  pass 
before  the  mind's  eye,  and  are  projected 
by  the  inward  spiritual  light  upon  the 
utter  blank.  His  imagination  must  be 
like  an  imperfect  kaleidoscope,  totally  un- 
furnished with  those  parti-coloured  frag- 
ments, whereof  the  complete  instrument 
makes  such  interminable  combinations. 
It  is  difficult  to  conceive  such  a  man's 
dream. 

"  Is  it,  a  still  benighted  wandering, — a 
pitch-dark  night  progress,  made  known 
to  him  by  the  consciousness  of  the  remain- 
ing senses?  Is  he  still  pulled  through 
the  universal  blank,  by  an  invisible  power, 
as  it  were,  at  the  nether  end  of  the  string? 
— regaled,  sometimes,  with  celestial  vo- 
luntaries, and  unknown  mysterious  fra- 
grances, answering  to  our  more  romantic 
flights ;  at  other  limes,  with  homely  voices, 
and  more  familiar  odours ;  here,  of  rank 
smelling  cheeses,  there,  of  pungent  pickles 
or  aromatic  drugs,  hinting  his  progress 
through  a  metropolitan  street.  Does  he 
over  again  enjoy  the  grateful  roundness  of 
those  substantial  dropping-s  from  the  in- 
visible passenger, — palpable  deposits  of 
an  abstract  benevolence, — or,  in  his  night- 
mares, suffer  anew  those  painful  concus- 
sions and  corporeal  buffetings,  from  that 
(to  him)  obscure  evil  principle,  the  Parish 
Beadle  ? 

"  This  question  I  am  happily  enabled  to 
resolve,  through  the  information  of  the 
oldest  of  those  blind  Tobits  that  stand  in 
fresco  against  Bunh  ill- wall ;  the  same 
who  made  that  notable  comparison,  of 
scarlet,  to  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  As  I 
understood  him,  harmony,  with  the  gravel- 
blind,  is  prismatic  as  well  as  chromatic. 
To  use  his  own  illustration,  a  wall-eyed 
man  has  a  palette  in  his  ear  as  well  as  in 
his  mouth.  Some  stone-blinds,  indeed, 
dull  dogs  without  any  ear  for  colour, 
profess  to  distinguish  the  different  hues 
and  shades  by  the  touch;  but  that,  he 
said,  was  a  slovenly,  uncertain  method,  and 
in  the  chief  article,  of  paintings,  not  allow- 
ed to  be  exercised. 

"  On  my  expressing  some  natural  sur- 
prise at  the  aptitude  of  his  celebrated  com- 
parison,— a  miraculous  close  likening,  to 
my  mind,  of  the  known  to  the  unkown, 
— he  told  me,  the  instance  was  notbng, 


$541 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  16. 


1541 


for  the  least  discriminative  among  them 
could  distinguish  the  scarlet  colour  of  the 
mail  guards'  liveries,  by  the  sound  of  their 
horns  :•  but  there  were  others,  so  acute 
their  faculty  !  that  they  could  tell  the  very 
features  and  complexion  of  their  relatives 
and  familiars,  by  the  mere  tone  of  their 
voices.  I  was  much  gratified  with  this 
explanation;  for  I  confess,  hitherto,  I  was 
always  extremely  puzzled  by  that  narra- 
tive in  the  *  Taller/  of  a  young  gentle- 
man's behaviour  after  the  operation  of 
couching,  and  especially  at  the  wonder- 
ful promptness  with  which  he  distinguish- 
ed his  father  from  his  mother,  —  his  mis- 
tress from  hei  maid.  But  it  appears,  that 
the  blind  are  not  so  blind  as  they  have 
been  esteemed  in  the  vulgar  notion.  What 
they  cannot  get  one  way  they  obtain  in 
another:  they,  in  fact,  realize  what  the 
author  of  Hudibras  has  ridiculed  as  a 
fiction,  for  they  set  up 

-  communities  of  senses, 

To  chop  and  change  intelligences, 

As  Rosicrucian  Virtuosis 

Cau  see  with,  ears  —  and  hear  with  noses.** 

Never  having  tried  opium,  and  therefore 
without  experience  of  "  such  magnificent 
visions  as  are  described  by  its  eloquent 
historian,  "  I  have  never,"  says  Mr.  Hood, 
"  been  buried  for  ages  under  pyramids  ; 
and  yet,  methinks,  have  suffered  agonies 
as  intense  as  his  could  be,  from  the  com- 
mon-place inflictions.  For  example,  a 
night  spent  in  the  counting  of  intermina- 
ble numbers,  —  an  inquisitorial  penance,  — 
everlasting  tedium,  —  the  mind's  tread- 
mill." 


That  "  the  innocent  —  sleep,"  is  an  ex- 
ceptionable position.  What  happy  man, 
with  a  happy  wife  by  his  side,  and  the 
irst,  sweet,  restless  plague  and  pledge  of 
their  happiness  by  hers,  has  not  been  awa- 
kened to  a  sense  of  his  felicity,  by  a 
weak,  yet  shrill  and  spirit-stirring  "  la-a, 
la-a,  la-a,  la-a,  la-a-a,  la-a-a  —  a,"  of  some 
secret  sorrow,"  for  ever  telling,  yet  untold.'' 

Happy  the  man  whose  only  care 
A  few  paternal  achings  are. 

Gentle  reader  of  the  Benedictine  order  ! 
I  presume  not  to  anticipate  the  pleasure 
thou  wilt  derive  from  contemplating  thy- 
self engaged  in  a  domestic  exercise,  suited 
to  the  occasion,  —  pacing  thy  bed-room  at 
"  the  heavy  middle  of  the  night,"  holding 
the  little  "  innocent" 

?ondly  lock'd  in  duty's  arms  ; 


its  dear  eyes  provokingly  open  to  the  light 
of  the  chamber-lantern ;  thine  own  closed 
by  drowsiness,  yet  kept  unsealed  by  affec- 
tion ;  thy  lips  arranged  for  the  piano  of 
carminative  sounds — "  quivering  to  the 
young-eyed  cherubim"— 

Oh  !  slumber  my  darling 

Thy  sire  is  a  knight,— 

— thy  "  darling"  ceasing  its  "  sweet 
voice,"  to  offer  more  decisively  by  its 
looks,  "  I  would  out-night  you."  Brother 
Benedict !  there  is  an  engraving  of  thee, 
and  thine,  in  the  book  I  speak  of,  mottoed, 
"  Son  of  the  sleepless  !" 

Let  me  extract  another  cut,  seemingly 
a  portrait  of  the  alarming  "  hope  of  the 
family,"  after  thou  hast  for  some  few  years 
tried,  perchance,  "the  Locke  system; 
which,  after  all,"  according  to  Mr  Hood, 
"  is  but  a  canal  system  for  raising  the 
babe-mind  to  unnatural  levels" — 


"  My  son,  sir." 


At  about  the  age  of  "  My  son,  sir," 
boys  seek  to  satisfy  their  curiosity,  and 
gratify  their  taste.  It  is  the  spelling-tims 
of  young  experience,  and  they  are  ex- 
tremely diligent.  Their  senses  are  fresh 
and  undepraved,  and  covetous  of  the  sin 
plest  pleasures. 

Every  town  in  England,  and  every  vil- 
lage, with  inhabitants  and  wealth  sufficient 
to  consume  a  hogshead  of  "  brown  moist" 
within  a  reasonable  time,  exhibits  an 
empty  sugar  cask  in  the  open  street ;  it  is 
every  little  grocer's  pride,  and  every  poor 
boy's  delight — 


1543 


HJEEVEfcY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  1<$ 


1544 


O !  there's  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life !" 


••  Gentle  reader,  read  the  motto  !  read 
the  motto!"  Look  at  the  engraving; 
"show  it  to  your  children,  and  to  your 
children's  children,"  and  ask  them  what 
they  think.  If  you  desire  an  immediate 
living  example  to  illustrate  professor 
Malthus's  principle,  that  "  population  al- 
ways comes  up  to  the  mean  of  subsistence," 
set  out  a  sugar  cask,  and  there  will  be  a 
swarm  of  boys  about  it,  from  no  one  knows 
whither,  in  'ten  minutes.  The  first  takes 
possession  of  the  inside,  and  is  "monarch 
of  all  he  surveys."  Like  the  throne,  it  is 
an  envied,  and  an  unquiet  possession. 
From  the  emulous,  on  all  sides,  he  receives 
vain  addresses  and  remonstrances,  and 
against  their  threatening  hands  is  obliged 
to  keep  a  sharp  look  out ;  but  his  greatest 
enemy,  and  for  whom  he  keeps  a  sharp 
look  over,  is  the  grocer's  man.  A  glimpse 
of  that  arch-foe  "  frightens  him  from  his 
impropriety"  in  a  twinkling;  unless, 
indeed,  from  the  nearness  of  the  adver- 
sary he  fail  to  escape,  when,  for  certain, 
his  companions  leave  him  "  alone  in  his 
glory,"  and  then  he  knows  for  a  truth, 
that  "  after  sweet  comes  sour."  The  boy 
there,  straddling  like  the  "  Great  Harry," 
has  had  his  wicked  will  of  the  barrel  to 
satiety,  and  therefore  vacates  his  place  in 
favour  of  him  of  the  hat,  on  whose  nether 
end  "  time  hath  written  strange  defea- 
ares."  It  is  not  so  certain,  that  the  fine, 


fat,  little  fellc  w,  with  his  hands  on  the  edge 
of  the  tub,  and  the  ends  of  his  toes  on  the 
ground,  will  ascend  the  side,  as  that  he 
who  stoops  in  front  is  enjoying  the  choicest 
pickings   of  the   prize.     The   others  are 
mere  common  feeders,  or  gluttons,  who 
go  for  quantity ;  he  is  the  epicure  of  the 
party- 
He  seeks  but  little  here  below 
But  seeks  that  little  good  ; 

and,  of  foretaste,  he  takes  his  place  at  the 
bung-hole,  where  the  sugar  crygallizes, 
and  there  revels  in  particles  of  the 
finest  candies.  "  I  pity  the  poor  child," 
says  Mr.  Hood,  "  that  is  learned  in  alpha 
beta,  but  ignorant  of  top  and  taw" — and 
I  pity  every  poor  child  who  only  knows 
that  a  sugar  tub  is  sweet,  and  is  ignorant 
of  the  sweetest  of  its  sweets.  There  are 
as  many  different  pickings  in  it  as  there 
are  cuts  in  a  shoulder  of  mutton,  or  Mr. 
Hood's  book.  My  authority  for  this  in- 
formation is  an  acute,  pale-faced,  sickly, 
printer's  boy,  an  adapt  in  lickerish  things, 
who  declared  the  fact  the  morning  after 
he  had  been  to  see  Mr.  Mathews,  by 
affirming,  with  enthusiasm,  "  I've  tried  it, 
I've  analyzed  it,  and  1  know  it." 
"  Ah  !  little  think  the  gay,  licentious  proud," 

who  spend  their  money  on  bulls-eyes  and 
hard-bake,  which  are  modern  inventions, 
of  the  delicacies  within  a  grocer's  plain, 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— ftOVEiMBER  16. 


1546 


opright  and  downright,  good,  old,  natu- 
ral, brown  sugar  tub — 
'  O  1  there's  nothing  lulf  so  sweet  in  life." 


Mr.  Hood  introduces  another  "  swee? 
pleasure,"  with  another  equally  apt  quo- 


tation : — 


"  Tell  me,  ray  heait,  can  this  be  Love  ?" 


This  figure  of  u  THE  POPULAR  CUPID," 
Mr.  Hood  copied,  "  by  permission,  from 
a  lady's  Valentine  ;"  and  h?  says,  u  in  the 
romantic  mythology  it  is  the  image  of 
the  divinity  of  Love."  He  inquires,  "  Is 
this  he,  that,  in  the  mind's  eye  of  the 
poetess,  drifts  adown  the  Ganges — 

Pillow'd  in  a  lotus  flow'r, 

Gather'd  in  a  summer  hour, 
Floats  he  o'er  the  mountain  wave, 

Which  would  be  a  tall  ship's  grave  ? 

- — I>oes  Belinda  believe  that  such  a  sub- 
stantial Sagittarius  lies  ambushed  in  her 
perilous  blue  eye? — I  can  believe  in  his 
dwelling  alone  in  the  heart — seeing  that 
he  must  occupy  it  to  repletion  :  in  his 
constancy — because  he  looks  sedentary, 
and  not  apt  to  roam  :  that  he  is  given  to 
melt — from  his  great  pinguitude  :  that  he 
burneth  with  a  flame — for  so  all  fat  burn- 
eth  :  and  hath  languishings — like  other 
bodies  of  his  tonnage :  that  he  sighs — 
from  his  size.  I  dispute  not  his  kneel- 
ing at  ladies'  feet — since  it  is  the  posture 
of  elephants — nor  his  promise,  that  the 
homage  shall  remain  eternal.  I  doubt 
not  of  his  dying — being  of  a  corpulent 
habit,  and  a  short  neck  :  of  his  blindness 
— with  that  inflated  pig's  cheek.  But,  for 
his  lodging  in  Belinda's  blue  eye,  my 
whole  faith  is  heretic — for  she  hath  never 
a  sty  in  it." 


Mr.  Hood,  doubtless,  desires  that  the 
world  should  know  his  "  Whims  and  Od- 
dities" through  his  own  work  ;  its  notice 
here,  therefore,  while  it  affords  a  wintet 
evening's  half  hour  entertainment,  is  nol 
to  mar  his  hopes.  But  it  is  impossible  ta 
close  its  merry-making  leaves  without 
shadowing  forth  a  little  more  of  the 
volume. 

It  ought  to  be  observed,  that  the  prints 
just  presented  are  from  engravings  in 
Mr.  Hood's  book,  of  which  there  are  forty 
drawn  by  his  own  pencil ;  and,  that  he 
attaches  a  motto  to  each,  so  antithetical, 
as  to  constitute  the  volume  a  pocket  port- 
folio of  designs  to  excite  risibility.  For 
example  : — 

He  tells  a  story  of  his  "  Aunt  Shaker- 
ly,"  a  lady  of  enormous  bulk,  who  placed 
Mr.  Hood's  baby  cousin  in  the  nursing- 
chair  while  she  took  in  the  news,  and 
then,  in  her  eagerness  to  read  the  acci- 
dents and  offences,  unthinkingly  sat,  with 
the  gravity  of  a  coroner's  inquest,  in  the 
aforesaid  chair,  and  thereby  unconsciously 
suppressed  "  an  article  of  intelligence" — 
an  occurrence  which  there  is  little  reason 
to  doubt  appeared  among  the  "  horri- 
bles," in  the  favourite  department  of  her 
paper,  the  next  morning.  The  engraving 
that  pictures  this  is  mottoed,  w  TBE 
SPOILED  CHILD  !" 


1547 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  16. 


1548 


Mr.  Hood  institutes  "  A  Complaint 
against  Greatness/'  through  "  an  unhappy 
candidate  for  the  show  at  Sadler's  reposi- 
tory," described  in  the  following  item  of 
the  catalogue —  "  The  reverend  Mr.  Far- 
mer, a  four  years'  old  Durham  ox,  fed  by 
himself,  upon  oil-cake  and  mangel-wur- 
zel." The  complainant,  however,  says, 
"  I  resemble  that  worthy  agricultural 
vicar  only  in  my  fat  living." 

This  being  the  season  when  these  con- 
demned animals  come  up  from  the  coun- 
try to  the  metropolis,  it  seems  a  fit  time 
to  hear  the  complainant's  description  of 
his  journey.  "  Wearisome  and  painful 
was  my  pilgrim-like  progress  to  this 
place,  by  short  and  tremulous  steppings 
— like  the  digit's  march  upon  a  dial.  My 
owner,  jealous  of  my  fat,  procured  a 
crippled  drover,  with  a  withered  limb, 
for  my  conductor;  but  even  he  hurried 
me  beyond  my  breath.  The  drawling 
hearse  left  me  labouring-  behind  ;  the 
ponderous  fly-waggon  passed  me  like  a 
bird  upon  the  road,  so  tediously  slow  is 
my  pace.  It  just  sufficeth,  oh,  ye  thrice 
happy  oysters  !  that  have  no  locomotive 
faculty  at  all,  to  distinguish  that  I  am  not 
at  rest.  Wherever  the  grass  grew  by  the 
way-side,  how  it  tempted  my  natural 
longings — the  cool  brook  flowed  at  my 
very  foot,  but  this  short,  thick  neck  for- 
bade me  to  eat  or  drink ;  nothing  but  my 
redundant  dewlap  is  likely  ever  to  graze 
on  the  ground  ! — If  stalls  and  troughs 
were  not  extant,  I  must  perish.  Nature 
has  given  to  the  elephant  a  long,  flexible 
tube,  or  trunk,  so  that  he  can  feed  his 
mouth,  as  it  were,  by  his  nose  :  but  is 
man  able  to  furnish  me  with  such  an  im- 
plement ?  Or  would  he  not  still  with- 
hold it,  lest  I  should  prefer  the  green 
herb,  my  natural,  delicious  diet,  and  re- 
ject his  rank,  unsavoury  cpndiments  ? — 
What  beast,  with  free  will,  but  would  re- 
pair to  the  sweet  meadow  for  its  pas- 
ture"— 

Verily,  it  is  humane  thus  to  lecture  man 
from  the  mouth  of  an  animal,  whose 
species  is  annually  deformed  for  butcherly 
pride,  and  the  loathing  of  the  table — "  to 
see  the  prize-steak  loaded  with  that  rank, 
yellow  abomination,  might  wean  a  man 
from  carnivorous  habits  for  ever."  The 
supplicant  for  our  compassion  adds,  in  be- 
half of  himself  and  his  dumb-fellow  crea- 
tures, "  It  may  seem  presumption  in  a 
orute  to  question  the  human  wisdom ; 
but  truly,  I  can  perceive  no  bene- 
ficial rnds  worthy  to  be  set  off  against 


our  sufferings.  There  must  be,  methinks, 
a  nearer  (and  a  better)  way  of  augmenting 
the  perquisites  of  the  kitchen-wench  and 
the  fire-man."  There  is  an  admirable 
cut  of  the  over-fed  petitioner,  breathing 
"  O,  that  this  too,  too  solid  flesh  would 
melt !"  The  figure  of  the  crippled  drover 
is  excellent. 

Mr.  Hood  devises  a  romantic  adven- 
ture that  befel  a  herd  of  these  animals  of 
the  common  class,  and  a  little  wooden, 
white-painted  house  on  four  wheels,  to 
which  a  sedentary  citizen  and  his  wife  had 
retired  to  spend  their  days,  "  impaled" 
by  the  wayside  on  Hounslow-heath, 
where — 

Having  had  some  quarters  of  school  breeding, 
They  turn'd  themselves,  like  other  folks,  to 

reading; 

But  setting  out  where  others  nigh  have  done, 
And  being  ripeu'd  in  the  seventh  stage, 

The  childhood  of  old  age, 
Began  as  other  children  have  begun, — 
Not  with  the  pastorals  of  Mr.  Pope, 

Or  Bard  of  Hope, 

Or  Paley,  ethical,  or  learned  Person, — 
But  spelt,  on  sabbaths,  in  St.  Mark,  or  John, 
And  then  relax'd  themselves  with  Whittington, 

Or  Valentine  and  Orson — 
But  chiefly  fairy  tales  they  loved  to  con, 
And  being  easily  melted,  in  their  dotage, 

Slobber'd,— and  kept 

Reading, — and  wept 
Over  the  White  Cat,  in  their  wooden  cottage. 

Thus  reading  on — the  longer 
They  read,  of  course,  their  childish  faitb  grew 

stronger 
In  gnomes,  and  hags,  and  elves,  and  giant 

grim, — 

If  talking  trees  and  birds  reveal'd  to  him, 
She  saw  the  flight  of  fairyland's  fly-waggons, 

And  magic-fishes  swim 
In  puddle  ponds,  and  look  old  crows  for  dra 

gons, — 
Both   were  quite  drunk  from  the  enchanted 

flaggons ; 
When  as  it  fell  upon  a  summer's  day, 

As  the  old  man  sat  a  feeding 
On  the  old  babe-reading, 
Beside  his  open  street-and-parlour  door, 

A  hideous  roar 
Proclaim'd  a  drove  of  beasts  was  corr;<<vg  b% 

the  way. 

Long-horned,  and  short,  of  many  a  differen 

breed, 
Tall,  tawny  brutes,  from  famous  Lincoln-levels, 

Or  Durham  feed ; 
With  some  of  those  unquiet,  black,  dwarf  devilSj 

From  nether  side  of  Tweed, 

Or  Firth  of  Forth  ; 
Looking  half  wild  with  joy  to  leave  the  North.— 


1540 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  16. 


1550 


With  dusty  hides,  all  mobbing  on  together, — 
When, — whether  from  a  fly's  malicious  com- 
ment 
Upon  his  tender  flank,  from  which  he  shrank; 

Or  whether 

Only  in  some  enthusiastic  moment, — 
However,  one  brown  monster,  in  a  frisk, 
Giving  his  tail  a  perpendicular  whisk, 
Kick'd  out  a  passage  thro'  the  beastly  rabble  ; 
And  after  a  pas  seul, — or,  if  you  will,  a 
Horn-pipe,  before  the  basket-maker's  villa, 

Leapt  o'er  the  tiny  pale, — 
Back'd   his   beef-steaks    against  the   wooden 

gable, 
And  thrust  his  brawny  bell-rope  of  a  tail 

Right  o'er  the  page, 

Wherein  the  sag.a 

Just  then  was  spelling  some  romantic  fable. 
The  old  man,  half  a  scholar,  half  a  dunce, 
Could   not  peruse,  who  could  ? — two  tales  at 
once; 

And  being  huflfd 
At  what  he  knew  was  none  of  Riquet's  tuft ; 

Bang'd-to  the  door, 
But  most  unluckily  enclosed  a  morsel 
Of  the  intruding  tail,  and  all  the  tassel  :— 

The  monster  gave  a  roar, 
And  bolting  off  with  speed,  increased  by  pain, 
The  little  house  became  a  coach  once  more. 
And,  like  Macheath,  "  took  to  the  road"  again  ! 

When  this  happened  the  old  man's  wife 
was  absent, 

Getting  up  some  household  herbs  for  supper, 
Thoughtful  of  Cinderella,  in  the  tale, 
And  quaintly  wondering  how  magic  shifts 
Could  o'er  a  common  pumpkin  so  prevail, 
To  turn  it  to  a  coach; 

nor   did  she  turn  round,  till  house  and 
spouse  had  turned  a  corner  out  of  sight. 

The  change  was  quite  amazing  ; 
It  made  her  senses  stagger  for  a  minute, 
The  riddle's  explication  seem'd  to  harden  ; 
]}iit  soon  her  superannuated  nous 
Explained  the  horrid  mystery  ; — and  raising 
Her  hand  to  heaven,  with  the  cabbage  in  it, 

On  which  she  meant  to  sup, — 
••  Well!  this  is  fairy  work!  I'll  bet  a  farden, 
Little  prince  Silverwings  has  ketch'd  me  up, 
And  set  me  down  in  some  one  else's  garden  !" 

Here  ends  the  "  fairy  tale  "  of  Houn- 
slow-heath. 


"  She  is  far  from  the  land  !"  is  a  motto 
to  an  engraving  of  a  land  lady,  frightened 
by  voyaging  in  a  Thames  wherry,  opposite 
St.  Paul's.  Her  after  alarms  at  sea  are 
concluded  pleasantly  : — 

"  We  were  off  Flamborough-head.  A 
heavy  swell,  the  consequence  of  some 
recent  storm  to  the  eastward,  was  rolling 
right  before  the  wind  upon  the  land  : — 


and,  once  under  the  shadow  of  the  bluff 
promontory,  we  should  lose  all  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  saving  westerly  breeze. 
Even  the  seamen  looked  anxious  :  but  the 
passengers,  (save  one,)  were  in  despair. 
They  were,  already,  bones  of  contention, 
in  their  own  misgivings,  to  the  myriads 
of  cormorants  and  waterfowl  inhabiting 
that  stupendous  cliff'.  Miss  Oliver  alone 
was  sanguine.  She  was  all  nods,  and 
becks,  and  wreathed  smiles ;  her  cheeri- 
ness  increased  in  proportion  with  our 
dreariness.  Even  the  dismal  pitching  of 
the  vessel  could  not  disturb  her  unseason- 
able levity  ; — it  was  like  a  lightening  be- 
fore death — but,  at  length,  the  mystery 
was  explained.  She  had  springs  of  com- 
fort that  we  knew  not  of.  Not  brandy, 
for  that  we  shared  in  common  ;  nor  sup- 
plications, for  those  we  had  all  applied 
to;  but  her  ears,  being  jealously  vigilant 
of  whatever  passed  between  the  mariners, 
she  had  overheard  from  the  captain, — and 
it  had  all  the  sound,  to  her,  of  a  comfort- 
able promise, — that  '  if  the  wind  held,  we 
should  certainly  go  on  shore.'  " 

The  popular  ballad  of  "  Sally  Brown 
and  Ben  the  Carpenter,"  which  first  ap- 
peared in  the  "  London  Magazine,"  is  in- 
serted in  this  volume.  "  I  have  never  been 
vainer  of  any  verses,"  says  Mr.Hood,"than 
of  my  part  in  the  following  ballad.  The 
lamented  Emery,  drest  as  Tom  Tug,  sang 
it  at  his  last  mortal  benefit  at  Covent- 
garden  ;  and,  ever  since,  it  has  been  a 
great  favourite  with  the  watermen  of  the 
Thames,  who  time  their  oars  to  it,  as  the 
wherrymen  of  Venice  time  theirs  to  the 
lines  of  Tasso.  With  the  watermen,  it 
went  naturally  to  Vauxhall  :  and,  over 
land,  to  Sadler's-wells.  The  guards,  not 
the  mail  coach  but  the  life  guards,  picked 
it  out  from  a  fluttering  hundred  of  others, 
all  going  to  one  air,  against  the  dead  wall 
at  Knightsbridge.  Cheap  printers  of 
Shoe-lane  and  Cow-cross,  (all  pirates  !) 
disputed  about  the  copyright,  and  pub- 
lished their  own  editions;  and,  in  the 
mean  time,  the  authors,  to  have  made 
bread  of  their  song,  (it  was  poor  old 
Homer's  hard  ancient  case !)  must  have 
sung  it  about  the  streets.  Such  is  the  lot 
of  literature  !  the  profits  of  '  Sally  Brown* 
were  divided  by  the  ballad-mongers :  it 
has  cost,  but  has  never  brought  me,  a 
halfpenny." 

A  "  Recipe  for  Civilisation,"  in  Hudi- 


1551 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  16. 


1552 


brastic  lines,  is  waggishly  ascribed  to  the 
"  pen  of  Dr.Kitchiner — as  if,  in  the  ingre- 
dients of  versification,  he  had  been  assisted 
by  his  Butler.'1  It  is  accompanied  by  a 
whimsical  whole  lengih  of  "  the  Cook's 
Oracle,"  adjusting  musical  notes  on  the 
bars  of  a  gridiron,  a  ludicrous  allusion  to 
the  good-humoured  Doctor's  diversified 
attainments  in  science  and  popularity. 

From  an  odd  poern,  attributed  to  an 
odd  personage,  "  The  Last  Man/'  two 
verses  are  selected,  as  an  example  of 
feelings  which  the  punning  on  the  title- 
page  seemed  to  have  proscribed  :— 

I've  buried  my  babies  one  by  one, 
And  dug  the  deep  hole  for  Joan, 
And  cover'd  the  faces  of  kith  and  kin, 
And  felt  the  old  church-yard  stone 
Go  cold  to  my  heart,  full  many  a  time, 
But  I  never  felt  so  lone. 

For  the  lion  and  Adam  were  company, 
And  the  tiger  him  beguiled; 
But  the  simple  kine  are  foes  to  my  life, 
And  the  household  brutes  are  wild. 
If  the  veriest  cur  would  lick  my  hand 
I  could  love  it  like  a  child ! 


Mr.  Hood's  pen  essays  "WALTON 
REUIVIVUS:  A  New  River  Eclogue." 

"  [Piscator  is  fishing — near  the  sir  Hugh 
Middleton's  Head,  without  either  basket 
or  can.  Viator  cometh  up  to  him,  with 
an  angling-rod  and  a  bottle.]'' 

It  is  prefaced  by  a  citation  "  From  a 
Letter  of  C.  Lamb"  in  these  words  : — 
"  My  old  New  River  has  presented  no  ex- 
traordinary novelties  lately.  But  there 
Hope  sits,  day  after  day,  speculating  on 
traditionary  gudgeons.  I  think  she  hath 
taken  the  fisheries.  I  now  know  the  rea- 
sons why  our  forefathers  were  denomi- 
nated East  and  West  Angles.  Yet  is  there 
no  lack  of  spawn,  for  I  wash  my  hands 
in  fishets  that  come  through  the  pump, 
every  morning,  thick  as  motelings — 
little  things  that  perish  untimely,  and 
never  taste  the  brook." 

To  face  this  "  Eclogue"  there  is  a 
motto,  "  My  banks  they  are  furnished," 
beneath  a  whole  length  figure,  so  like 
"  poor  Jemmy  Whittle !" — only  not  look- 
ing so  good  natured. 

"  Love  me,  love  my  dog,"  is  a  fearful 
cut — Mr.  Hood's  step-mother,  and  her 
precious  "  Bijou" — wi'th  a  story,  and  a 


tail-piece — "  O  list  unto  my  tale  of  woe," 
— unnaturally  natural. 

One  of  the  best  pieces  in  the  volume  is 
"  The  Irish  Schoolmaster,"  who,  from  a 
clay  cabin,  "  the  College  of  Kilreen," 
hangs  out  a  board,  "  with  painted  letters 
red  as  blood,"  announcing  "  CHILDREN 

TAKEN   IN  TO  BATE." 

Six  babes  he  sways,— some  little  and  some 

big, 

Divided  into  classes  six  ; — alsoe, 
He  keeps  a  parlour  boarder  of  a  pig, 
That  in  the  college  fareth  to  and  fro, 
And  picketh  up  the  urchins'  crumbs   below 
And  eke  the  learned  rudiments  they  scan, 
And  thus  his  A,  B,  C  doth  wisely  know, — 
Hereafter  to  be  shown  in  caravan, 
And  raise  the  wonderment  of  many  a  learned 

man. 

Alsoe,  he  scnools  some  tame  familiar  fowls, 
Whereof,   above   his   head,  some   two  or 

three 

Sit  darkly  squatting,  like  Minerva's  owls, 
But  on  the  branches  of  no  living  tree, 
And  overlook  the  learned  family  ,• 
While,  sometimes,  Partlet,  from  her  gloomy 

perch, 

Drops  feather  on  the  nose  of  Dominie, 
Meanwhile,  with  serious  eye,  he  makes  re- 
search 

In  leaves  of  that  sour  tree  of  knowledge — 
now  a  birch. 


Now,  by  the  creeping  shadows  of  the  moon, 
The  hour  is  come  to  lay  aside  their  lore  ; 
The  cheerful  pedagogue  perceives  it  soon, 
And  cries,  "  Begone!"  unto  the  imps, — and 

four 
Snatch  their  two  hats  and  struggle  for  tne 

door, 

Like  ardent  spirits  vented  from  a  cask, 
All  blythe  and  boisterous, — but  leave  two 

more, 

With  Reading  made  Uneasy  for  a  task, 
To   weep,   whilst    all  their   mates  in  merry 

sunshine  bask, 

Like  sportive  elfins  on  the  verdant  sod, 

With  tender  moss  so  sleekly  overgrown, 

That  doth  not  hurt,  but  kiss,  the  sole  un- 
shod, 

So  soothely  kind  is  Erin  to  her  own  ! 

And   one,    at  hare  and   hound,  plays  all 
alone, — 

For  Phelim's  gone  to  tend  his  step-dame's 
cow; 

Ah  !    Phelim's    step-dame    is   a  canker'd 
crone  ! 

Whilst  other  twain  play  at  an  Irish  row, 
And,  with  shillelah  smallj  break  one  another's 
brow ' 


1553 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  16. 


1554 


But  careful  Dominie,  with  ceaseless  thrift, 
Now  changeth  ferula  for  rural  hoe  ; 
But,  first  of  all,  with  tender  hand  doth  shift 
His  college  gown,  because  of  solar  glow, 
And  hangs  it  on  a  bush  to  scare  the  crow : 
Meanwhile,  he  plants  in  earth  the  dappled 

bean, 

Or  trains  the  young  potatoes  all  a-row, 
Or  plucks  the    fragrant  leek   for    pottage 

green, 
With   that  crisp    curly  herb,  calPd  Kale  in 

Aberdeen . 

And  so  he  wisely  spends  the  fruitful  hours, 
Linked  each  to  each  by  labours,  like  a  bee  ; 
Or  rules  in  learning's  hall,  or  trims  her 

bow'rs ; — 
Would  there  were  many  more  such  wights 

as  he, 


To  sway  each  capital  academic 
Of  Cam  and  Isis  ;  for,  alack  !  at  each 
There  dwells,  I  wot,  somedronish  Dominie, 
That  does  no  garden  wor't,  nor  yet  dotb 

teach, 
But  wears  a  floury  head,  and  talks  in  flow'rj 

speech ! 

For  the  entire  of  the  subjects  already 
extracted  from,  and  for  many  others  not  ad- 
verted to,  even  by  name,  reference  should 
be  had  to  the  work  itself.  There  is  one 
design,  however,  so  excellent  a  specimen 
of  Mr.  Hood's  clear  conception  and  de- 
cisive execution,  that  merely  in  further 
illustration  of  his  talent  it  is  here  intro- 
duced. 


Very  deaf,  indeed." 


A.n  engraving  of  Mr.  Hood's  admirable 
'  Parish  Beadle,"  from  his  "  Progress  of 
Cant,"  was  inserted  in  an  account  of  that 
print  on  p.  130  of  the  present  volume  of 
the  Every-Day  Book.  Great  as  was  the 
merit  of  that  print,  in  point  of  wit  and 
humour,  and  curious  as  it  will  always  be 
regarded  for  its  multiform  developement 
of  character,  and  relationship  to  the  man- 
ners of  the  age,  yet  it  is  largely  exceeded, 
in  these  respects,  DY  the  volume  of 
•'  Whims  and  Oddities."  Possessing  the 
rare  talent,  of  illustrating  what  he  writes 
by  his  own  drawings,  Mr.  Hood  is  to 
be  esteemed  in  a  twofold  capacity.  He 
has,  withall,  the  remarkable  merit  of 


having  acquired  his  knowledge  of  art 
by  his  own  teaching ;  and,  what  augurs 
well,  the  praise  which  the  "  Progress  of 
Cant"  deserved  and  obtained,  has  whole- 
somely invigorated 'him  to  higher  mas- 
tery. There  is  a  firmness  of  execution  in 
the  designs  to  the  "  Whims  and  Oddi- 
ties/' surprisingly  superior  to  the  general 
manner  of  his  meritorious  etching  jus* 
mentioned.  The  book  is  altogether  the 
most  original  that  the  press  of  late  years 
has  produced  ;  and,  luckily,  it  comes  like  a 
seasonable  visiter,  to  raise  shouts  of 
laughter  "  round  about  the  coal-fire"  in 
cold  weather. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  17. 


1556 


HUGH, 
Bishop  of  Lincoln. 

His  name  is  in  the  church  of  England 
calendar  and  almanacs  on  this  day, 
which  was  ordained  his  festival  by  the 
Romish  church,  wheiein  he  is  honoured  as 
a  saint. 

St.  Hugh  was  born  in  Burgundy  in 
1140,  educated  in  a  convent,  took  the 
habit  of  the  Chartreuse  near  Grenoble 
before  he  was  of  age,  was  ordained  priest, 
and,  at  the  end  of  ten  years,  the  procura- 
torship  of  the  monastery  was  intrusted  to 
him.  Henry  IT.  of  England,  confiding 
in  his  prudence  and  sanctity,  induced  him 
to  come  over  and  regulate  the  new  mo- 
nastery of  Carthusians,  founded  by  the 
king  at  Witham  in  Somersetshire,  which 
was  the  first  of  that  order  establish- 
ed in  England.  He  was  consecrated 
bishop  of  Lincoln,  21st  September,  1186, 
exerted  his  episcopal  authority  to  restore  ec- 
clesiastical discipline,  especially  amongst 
his  clergy,  and  maintained  the  claims  of 
the  church  against  the  crown  itself.  In 
quality  of  ambassador  from  king  John, 
he  went  to  France  and  negotiated  a  peace ; 
on  his  return  he  was  seized  with  a  fever, 
presumed  to  have  been  occasioned  by  his 
abstemiousness,  and  died  at  London,  on 
blessed  ashes  strewed  on  the  floor,  as  he 
directed,  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  on  the 
17th  of  November,  1200.  His  body  was 
embalmed,  and  conveyed  with  great  pomp 
to  Lincoln,  where  it  was  met  by  king 
John  of  England  and  king  William  of 
Scotland,  with  three  archbishops,  fourteen 
bishops,  above  a  hundred  abbots,  and  a 
great  number  of  earls  and  barons.  The 
two  kings  put  their  shoulders  under 
the  bier  as  it  was  carried  into  the 
church, 

Alban  Butler,  from  whom  these  particu- 
lars are  derived,  affirms  that  three  para- 
lytic persons,  and  some  others,  recovered 
their  health  at  St.  Hugh's  tomb.  He 
further  relates,  that,  during  the  saint's 
life  time,  Henry  II.,  being  on  his  way 
from  Normandy  to  England,  in  a  furious 
storm,  prayed  for  mercy,  through  the  merits 
and  intercession  of  St.  Hugh,  whereon  a 
calm  ensued,  and  the  voyage  was  made 
in  safety. 


THE  UNTOMBED  MARINERS. 

An  incident  really  ivitnessed  in  the  Ba\ 

of  Biscay. 

The  waves  roll'd  long  and  high 

In  the  fathomless  Biscay, 
And  the  rising  breeze  swept  sullen  by, 

And  the  day  closed  heavily. 

Our  ship  was  tight  and  brave, 

Well  trimm'd  and  sailing  free, 
And  she  flew  along  on  the  mountain  wave. 

An  eagle  of  the  sea. 

The  red  cross  fluttering  yet, 

We  lower'd  the  noble  sign, 
For  the  bell  had  struck,  it  was  past  sunset, 

And  the  moon  began  to  shine. 

Her  light  was  fitful,  flung 

From  a  sky  of  angry  gloom, 
Thick  hurrying  clouds  o'er  the  waters  hung, 

Their  hue  was  of  the  tomb. 

Yet  now  and  then  a  gleam 

Broke  through  of  her  silent  ray, 

And  lit  around  with  her  soften'd  beam 
Some  spot  of  that  plumbless  bay. 

O'er  the  bulwark's  side  we  heard 
The  proud  ship  break  the  spray, 

While  her  shrouds   and  sheets  by   the  wild 

winds  stirrd, 
Made  music  mournfully. 

And  we  t>lk'd  of  battles  past, 

Of  shipwreck,  rock,  and  shore, 
Of  ports  where  peril  or  chance  had  cast 

Our  sail  the  wide  world  o'er. 

The  watch  look'd  by  the  lee, 

A  shapeless  log  was  seen, 
A  helmless  ship  it  appear'd  to  be, 

And  it  lay  the  waves  between. 

Oh  'twas  a  fearful  sight 

That  helpless  thing  to  see, 
Swimming  mastless  and  lone  at  high  midnight 

A  corps  on  the  black,  black  sea  ! 

There  were  souls,  perchance,  on  board, 

And  heaving  yet  their  breath, 
Men  whose  cry,  amid  their  despair,  was  heard 

Not  to  meet  ocean-death. 

Our  chief  on  deck  up  sprung, 

We  lay  too  in  that  hollow  deep—- 
Below, as  our  voices  and  trampling  rung, 
The  sleepers  sprang  from  sleep. 

The  boat  we  loosed  and  lower'd, 

There  were  gallant  hearts  to  go, 
The  dark  clouds  broke  that  the  moon  em 
bower'd, 

And  her  lights  shone  cheering  through 


.557 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  18. 


1558 


And  we  watch'd  that  little  boat 

Pull  up  the  mountain  wave. 
Then  sink  from  view,  like  a  name  forgot, 

Within  an  ancient  grave. 

They  go — they  climb  the  hull, 

As  the  waters  wash  the  deck, 
They  shout,  and  they  hear  but  the  billows  dull 

Strike  on  that  lonely  wreck. 

The  skeletons  of  men 

Lay  blanch'd  and  marrowless  there, 
But  clothed  in  their  living  garb,  as  when 

That  'reft  ship  was  their  care. 

Lash'd  to  their  planks  they  lay. 

The  ropes  still  round  them  tied, 
Though  drifted  long  leagues  in  that  stormy 
bay, 

Since  they  hoped,  despaired,  and  died. 

Tombless  in  their  decay, 

Mid  the  watery  solitude, 
Days  dawn'd  upon  them  and  faded  away, 

Cold  moons  their  death-sleep  view'd. 

Their  names  no  trace  may  tell, 
Nor  whither  their  passage  bound, 

And  our  seamen  leave  the  desolate  hull 
With  death  and  darkness  round. 

They  tread  their  deck  again, 

And  silent  hoist  their  boat — 
They  think  of  the  fate  of  the  unknown  men 

Who  for  years  may  wildly  float. 

Those  bones,  that  ocean  bier. 

They  well  may  sadly  see, 
For  they  feel  that  the  gallant  ship  they  steer, 

Their  sepulchre  may  be. 

There  is  grief  for  beauty's  woe, 
Laurels  strew  the  hero's  hearse — 

Are  there  none  will  the  generous  tear  bestow 
For  those  untomb'd  mariners  !* 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  42  •  02. 


CHRONOLOGY 

On  the  1 8th  of  November,  1 777,  died 
William  Bo\vyer,  an  eminent  printer  of 
London,  where  he  was  born  on  the  17th 
of  December,  1699.  He  had  been  always 
subject  to  a  bilious  colic,  and  for  the  last 
ten  years  of  Ins  life  was  afflicted  with  the 
palsy ;  yet  he  retained  a  remarkable 
cheerfulness  of  disposition,  and  his  facul- 
ties, though  somewhat  impaired,  enabled 

*  New  Monthly  Magazine. 


him  to  maintain  the  conversation  of  his  lite- 
rary friends,  pursue  a  course  of  incessant 
reading,  which  was  his  principal  amuse- 
ment,   and    correct   the   learned    works, 
especially  the  Greek  books,  printed  at  his 
press.     Within  a  few  weeks  before  his 
death,  he  sunk  under  his  maladies  and  the 
progress  of  decay.     His  numerous  critical 
writings   afford    ample   evidence   of  his 
ability   as   a  scholar ;  and   as  a  learned 
printer,  he  had    no  rival  for  more  than 
half  a  century.     Of  his  regard  to  religion 
and  morals,  both  in  principle  and  practice, 
his  whole  life  bore  unquestionable  evi- 
dence.    His  probity  was  inflexible.     The 
promptitude  with  which  he  relieved  every 
species  of  distress,  and  his  modesty  in 
endeavouring  to  conceal  his  benefactions, 
marked  the  benevolence  and  delicacy  ol 
his  disposition.     In  the  decline  of  life, 
and  in  his  testamentary  arrangements,  he 
seems  to  have  been  influenced  by  a  regard 
to  two  great  objects ;  one  was  to  repay 
the  benefactions  which  had  been  conferred 
on  his  father  at  a  time  when  he  peculiarly 
needed  assistance,  and  the  other  was  to 
be  himself  a  benefactor  to  tne  meritorious 
in  his  own  profession.     By  his  will,  after 
liberally  providing  for  his  only  surviving 
son,  and  allotting  various  private  bequests, 
he   appropriated   several   sums   to  "  the 
benefit  of  printing,'*  particularly  with  a 
view  to  the  relief  of  aged  printers,  compo- 
sitors or  pressmen,  and  to  the  encourage- 
ment of  the  journeyman  compositor,  whom 
he   particulaily   describes,   and     who  •  is 
required   to  be  capable  of  reading  and 
construing  Latin,  and,  at  least,  of  reading 
Greek  fluently  with  accents.     These  latter 
bequests  he  committed  to  the  direction 
and  disposal  of  the  master,  wardens,  and 
assistants  of  the  Company  of  Stationers. 
Mr.   Bowyer  was  buried,  agreeably  to 
his   own    direction,    at    Low-Layton,   in 
Essex,  and   a  monument  erected,  at  the 
expense  of  his   friend,  Mr.   Nichols,   to 
his  father's    memory   and  his  own,  with 
a  Latin    inscription   written   by  himself. 
There  is  a  bust  of  him  in  Stationers'-hall, 
with  an  English  inscription  annexed,  in 
his  own  words  :  and  beside  it  are  a  por- 
trait of  his  father,  and  another  of  his  pa- 
tron, Mr.Nelson,  all  presented  to  the  Com- 
pany by  Mr.  Nichols,  who  was  his  appren- 
tice, partner,  and  successor ;  and  who  has 
done  ample  justice  to  his  eminent  prede- 
cessor's memory,  by  an  invaluable  series 
of  "Anecdotes'7  of  Mr.  Bowyer,  and  many 
celebrated  literary  characters  of  the  last 
and   present  century,  whose   persons  or 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NO /EMBER  19. 


1560 


writings  Mr.  Nichols's  professional  la- 
bours and  varied  erudition  had  acquainted 
him  with. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  82. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

On  this  day  in  1703  died,  in  the  Bas- 
tille at  Paris,  an  unknown  prisoner,  cele- 
brated throughout  Europe  under  the 
appellation  of  the  Man  with  the  Iron 
Mask  ;  he  had  been  confined,  for  state 
reasons,  from  the  year  1661.  There  have 
been  various  disquisitions  and  controver- 
sies respecting  his  identity,  but  a  recent 
work  seems  to  have  rendered  it  probable, 
that  he  was  an  Italian  diplomatist  who 
counteracted  certain  projects  of  Louis 
XIV.,  and  was  therefore  condemned,  by 
that  monarch's  despotism,  to  perpetual 
imprisonment,  in  an  iron  mask,  for  the 
concealment  of  his  features. 


PLEASANT  ILLUSTRATIONS — AND 

ADDITIONAL  NOTICES. 
A  correspondent  is  pleased  to  commu- 
nicate a  series  of  reminiscences  occasioned 
by  accounts  in  the  first  volume.     They 
form  two  interesting  articles,  viz. 

MEMORANDA  I. 
On  Vol.  I.  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

"  Pages  attend  on  books  as  well  as  lords." 

j.  a.  P. 

Sir, — It  is  obvious,  that  he  who  reads 
the  Every-Day  Book  will  think  of  things 
connected  with  the  contents  stated,  and 
wish  to  append  them  as  memoranda,  for 
the  perusal  of  those  interested  in  the  re- 
suscitations of  old  customs  and  matters 
of  fact.  With  this  impression,  I  have 
collected  my  stray  knowledge,  and  con- 
densed it  in  the  following  compass.  The 
pages  quoted,  refer  to  the  first  volume. 
Ex.  g. 

122.  "  Powerful  Optical  Illusion."  Ap- 
proaching a  lamp  in  the  high  road  near 
town,  an  object  crossed  my  path ;  it  ap- 
peared like  a  large  crab,  and,  as  I  drew 
nearer,  ran  up  the  side  of  a  house  in  the 
road-way  with  great  velocity.  When  I 
reached  the  lamp,  to  my  satisfaction,  I 
proved  this  appearance  to  have  been 
caused  by  a  full-sized  spider,  which  had 
passed  the  light,  and  made  upwards  to  its 


web.  Had  I  not  accounted  for  this  na- 
tural circumstance,  I  should  certainly 
have  considered  it  as  a  phenomenon  wor- 
thy of  anxiety. 

123.  "The  Spectre."  A  young  lady 
in  Bedfordshire,  on  coming  of  age,  was 
promised  by  her  father  a  present  of  any 
thing  she  chose  to  accept  at  his  hand. 
She  said,  A  skeleton  !  Her  choice  was 
gratified — a  skeleton  was  sent  for  from 
London,  and  placed  in  a  case  in  a  room 
accessible  to  her.  The  room  has  ever 
since  gone  by  the  name  of  the  "  Stran- 
ger s  Room."  "  Have  you  seen  ?  or  will 
you  see,  the  stranger  ?"  is  the  question 
put  to  all  visitors.  The  daughter  of 
Herod  ias  seems  to  have  scarcely  exceeded 
the  eccentric  taste  of  this  young  lady. 

136.  "  St.  Agnes'  Eve."  After  fasting 
the  whole  of  the  day,  upon  going  to  bed 
an  egg  must  be  filled  with  salt,  and  ea'en, 
which  occasions  a  great  thirst.  The  ves- 
sel the  female  dreams  of  drinking  from,  ac- 
cording to  situation  and  circumstances, 
denotes  who  will  be  her  husband. 

This  charm  for  the  ague,  on  "  St.  Agnes' 
Eve,"  is  customary  to  be  said  up  the 
chimney,  by  the  eldest  female  in  the 
family — 

"  Tremble  and  go  ! 

First  day  shiver  and  burn  : 
Tremble  and  quake  ! 

Second  day  shiver  and  learn  : 
Tremble  and  die  ! 

Third  day  never  return." 

179.  "Bears  "are  seen  on  the  Stock 
Exchange  in  human  shape,  natural  ones 
are  kept  by  friseurs  to  supply  grease  for 
the  hair.  The  Black  Bear  in  Piccadilly, 
Taylor's  Bear  in  Whitechapel,  the  White 
Bear,  and  the  Bear  and  Ragged  Staff,  as 
a  punster  would  say,  are  bear-able  enough ; 
but,  I  reprehend  the  "  Dancing  Bears " 
being  led  through  the  streets  to  perform 
antics  for  money.  Two  have  appeared 
this  month.  Each  with  two  monkeys,  a 
camel,  dromedary,  and  organ.  Travellers 
have  told  of  their  sagacity ;  we  believe 
them :  but,  that  bears  are  made  to  stand 
upon  hot  iron,  and  undergo  the  severest 
discipline  before  they  are  fit  for  public 
exhibition,  is  a  truth  which  harrows  the 
feeling,  and  makes  me  wisn  the  dancing 
bears  unmuzzled,  and  le  I  loose  upon  those 
who  have  the  guidance  o?  their  education. 
The  ursa  major  of  the  literary  hemisphere, 
Dr.  Johnson,  might  have  been  a  match 
for  them. 

207    "  St.  Blase."     He    seems  to  have 


1561 


THE  EVEIIY-DA\   BOOK.— NOVEMBER  19. 


1562 


neglected  the  protecting  the  "  Wool- 
combers."  Since  the  introduction  of  ma- 
chinery, by  Arkwright  and  others,  very 
little  cloth  is  manufactured  by  hand.  The 
woolcomber's  greasy  and  oily  wooden 
horse,  the  hobby  of  his  livelihood,  with 
the  long  teeth  and  pair  of  cards,  are  rarely 
seen.  When  scribblers,  carders,  billies, 
and  spinning  jennies,  came  into  use,  the 
wheel  no  longer  turned  at  the  cottage 
door,  but  a  revolution  among  the  working 
classes  gave  occasion  for  soldiers  to  pro- 
tect the  mills — time,  however,  has  ended 
this  strife  with  wool,  and  begun  another 
with  cotton 

246.  "  Pancake  Day.*'  It  is  a  sine 
qua  non  at  "  Tedbury  Mop"  before  a  maid 
servant  is  wholly  qualified  for  the  farmer's 
kitchen,  that  she  make  apple  fritters,  and 
toss  them  without  soot,  or  spoiling  the 
batter. 

348.  "  Sadler's  Wells."  It  closed  this 
season  (1826)  with  a  real  benefit  for  Mrs. 
Fitzwilliam,  October  2d.  The  new  fea- 
ture has  been  the  horse-racing,  in  the  open 
air,  represented  as  at  Newmarket.  Boards 
were  erected  on  every  side,  to  conceal  the 
race  from  the  public  in  general,  and  en- 
sure novelty  to  the  play-going  folks  in 
particular.  To  give  publicity  to  this  amuse- 
ment, the  high-mettled  racers,  with  riders, 
flags  and  bugles,  in  proper  costume,  pa- 
raded the  environs  daily,  and  distributed 
bills  descriptive  of  cups,  plate,  bets,  and 
other  taking  articles  of  jockeyship,  which 
took  place  at  evening.  The  thing  did 
not  take  so  much  money  as  wished. 

361.  "St.  Patrick's  Day"  being  my 
natal  day,  though  not  of  Erin's  clime,  I 
never  fail  dedicating  a  large  plum  pudding 
to  his  saintship  ;  round  my  table  the  "  olive 
branches"  spread,  and  I  make  this  record 
to  encourage  all  persons  to  do  the  same, 
in  remembrance  of  their  parent's  solici- 
tude, and  the  prospective  harmony  of  the 
young. 

402.  "  Good  Friday."  The  bun  so 
fashionable,  called  the  Sally  Lnnn,  origi- 
nated with  a  young  woman  of  that  name 
in  Bath,  about  thirty  years  ago.  She  first 
cried  them,  in  a  basket  with  a  white  cloth 
over  it,  morning  and  evening.  Dalmer, 
a  respectable  baker  and  musician,  noticed 
her,  bought  her  business,  and  made  a  song, 
and  set  it  to  music  in  behalf  of  "  Sally 
Lunn."  This  composition  became  the 
street  favourite,  barrows  were  made  to 
distribute  the  nice  cakes,  Dalmer  profited 
thereby,  and  retired;  and,  to  this  day,  the 
Sally  Lunn  cake,  not  unlike  the  hotcross 


bun  in  flavour,  claims  preeminence  in  all 
the  cities  in  England. 

423.  "  Lifting"  is  a  custom  practised 
with  hurdles  among1  shepherds,  in  the 
South  Downs,  at  their  marriages.  The 
bride  and  bridegroom  are  carried  round  a 
flock  of  sheep  ;  a  fleece  is  put  for  their  seat, 
and  may-horns,  made  of  the  rind  of  the 
sycamore  tree,  are  played  by  boys  and 
girls.  There  is  another  sort  of  "  lifting," 
however  ;  I  have  seen  a  tale-bearer  in  the 
village  tossed  in  a  blanket  by  the  maids, 
as  it  is  represented  in  "  Don  Giovanni  in 
London,"  a  scene  in  the  King's  Bench. 
I  am,  Sir, 

Your's  sincerely, 

JEHOIADA. 

MEMORANDA  II. 
On  Vol.  I.  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Franklin   says,    *  farthings   will    amount    to 

pounds  :  — 

So  memorandums  saved,  will  books  produce. 

J.  R.  P. 


507.  "  The  Martin."  It  is  considered 
a  presage  of  good,  for  this  bird  to  build 
its  nest  in  the  corner  of  the  bedroom- 
window  ;  and  particularly  so,  should  the 
first  inhabitants  return  in  the  season.  I 
know  it  to  be  true,  that  a  pair  of  martins 
built  their  nest  in  the  curtains  of  a  bed 
belonging  to  Mrs.  Overton,  of  Loverrall, 
Yorkshire.  The  nest  was  suffered  to 
remain  unmolested,  and  access  given  to  it 
from  the  air.  Six  successive  seasons  the 
old  birds  revisited  their  chosen  spot, 
brought  forth  their  young,  and  enjoyed 
their  peace,  till  the  death  of  their  most 
kind  benefactress  ;  when  a  distribution  of 
the  furniture  taking  place,  it  dislodged 
the  tenants  of  the  wing,  which  to  each  of 
them  was  not  all  Mihi  Beati  Martini  — 
"My  eye,  Betty  Martin." 

570.  "  Milkmaids'  garland."  After  f 
had  sailed  up  the  river  Wye,  and  arrived 
at  Chepstow-castle,  my  attention  was 
arrested  by  one  of  the  prettiest  proces- 
sions I  remember  to  have  enjoyed.  It 
consisted  of  milkmaids  dancing  and  se- 
renading round  an  old  man,  whose  few 
gray  hairs  were  crowned  by  a  wreath  of 
wild  flowers;  he  held  a  blossomy  hawthorn 
in  his  right  hand,  and  bore  a  staff,  wiih 
cowslips  and  bluebells,  in  his  left.  A 
cow's  horn  hung  across  his  shoulders, 
which  he  blew  on  arriving  at  a  house. 
The  youths  and  lasses  were  more  than 
thirty  in  number.  Their  arms,  and  heads 


150°, 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  20. 


1564 


and  necks,  were  surrounded  by  clusters  of 
lilies  of  the  vaiiey,  and  wild  roses.  Then 
came  an  apple-cheeked  dame  with  a  low- 
crowned,  broad-brim  hat ;  she  wore  spec- 
tacles, mittens  were  drawn  up  to  her 
slbows,  her  waist  trim,  a  woollen  apron 
bound  it,  her  petticoat  short,  blue  worsted 
stockings,  a  high-heeled  pair  of  shoes 
with  silver  buckles,  and  a  broad  tongue 
reposing  on  each  instep.  In  one  hand 
she  held  a  brass  kettle,  newly  scoured,  it 
was  full  of  cream  ;  in  the  other,  a  basket 
of  wood  strawberries.  To  whoever  came 
up  to  her  with  a  saucer  or  basin,  she 
gave  a  portion  of  her  cream  and  fruit, 
with  the  trimmest  curtsey  I  ever  saw  made 
by  a  dainty  milkwoman  betwixt  earth  and 
sky.  She  was  "  Aunt  Nelly,"  and  her 
"Bough  Bearer,"  called  "  Uncle  Ambrose," 
was  known  for  singing  a  song,  "  'Twas  on 
one  moonshiny  night,"  which  his  de- 
fective pronunciation  lisped  "  meaun 
sheeiney."  Ambrose  strummed  an  in- 
strument in  his  turn,  partly  harp,  and 
partly  hirdy-girdy.  Six  goats,  harnessed 
in  flowers,  carried  utensils  in  milking 
and  butter  making ;  and  the  farmer  of  the 
party  rode  on  a  bull,  also  tastily  dressed 
with  the  produce  of  the  fields  and  hedges. 
A  cheese  and  a  hatchet  were  sus- 
pended behind  him,  and  he  looked  proudly 
as  he  guided  the  docile  animal  to  the 
public-house,  into  which  the  milkmaids 
and  their  sweethearts  went,  quickened  in 
their  motions  by  the  cat-gut,  which  made 
stirring  sounds  up  stairs.  The  flowery 
flag  was  thrust  upwardly  into  the  street, 
facing  the  iron  bridge  ;  and,  getting  again 
into  the  fisherman's  boat,  I  sailed  and 
loitered  down  the  banks  of  the  river, 
charmed  with  what  I  had  seen,  felt,  and 
understood.  Of  the  milkmaids,  Miss 
Thomas  of  Landcote  was  the  darkest,  the 
neatest,  and  the  tallest — she  stood  only 
five  feet,  ten  inches  high. 

692.  "  Kiss  in  the  ring,"  The  «  kis»ing 
crust1  is  that  part  of  the  loaf  which  is 
slightly  burnt,  and  parted  from  the  next 
loaf:  hungry  children  who  go  home  from 
the  baker's,  know  best  what  it  is,  by  the 
slv  bits  they  filch  from  that  part  denomi- 
nated the  '  kissing  crust.' 

807.  "  Buy  a  Broom  !"  Since  Bishop 
harmonised  this  popular  cry,  the  Flemish 
girls  cry  '  Buy  a  brush  ?'  but  a  greater 
novelty  has  arisen  in  some  of  them  sing- 
ing glees,  quartets,  and  quintets  in  the 
streets.  The  tune  is  unconcordant,  slow, 
and  grave;  these  warblers  walk  in  a  line 
down  the  centre,  with  their  hands  crossed 


before  their  stomachs.  Their  simple  at- 
titude, together  with  their  sunny  cast,  and 
artless  glance,  render  them  objects  of 
pity  ;  but  the  pence  fall  not  so  plentily 
to  them  as  to  the  real  John  Bull,  straight- 
forward songs  of  the  young  weavers  that 
go  about  with  the  model  of  a  loom  in 
work,  fixed  to  the  top  of  a  rod  five  feet 
high. 

839.  "  French  pulpit."  The  pulpit  at 
Union  Chapel,  Islington,  is  made  of 
beautiful  grained  "  Honduras  mahogany  ;" 
and  that  of  St.  Pancras,  New-road,  of  the 
farfamed  "  Fairlop  oak." — Wesley  and 
Whitefield  were  contented  to  emerge  in 
their  first  career  from  the  hogsheads  of  a 
grocer  in  Moorfields. 

858.  "  Copenhagen-house."  This  year, 
the  Spanish  and  Italian  refugees  have 
resorted  to  this  house  in  great  numbers, 
and  played  many  famous  matches  at  ball. 
Nothing  can  be  more  retired  than  the 
garden  formed  into  bowers  for  visiters — 
if  the  building  mania  should  not  recover, 
age  will  give  the  young  plantations  beauty, 
pleasure,  and  effect.  Two  new  roads  are 
made  near  Copenhagen-house ;  the  one. 
leading  from  Kentish-town  to  Holloway, 
the  other,  from  the  latter  to  Pentonville. 
At  "  the  Belvidere"  racket  is  much  played, 
and  archery  practised  at  "White  Con- 
duit-honse."  It  is  gratifying  that  the 
labours  of  the  Every- Day  Book  are  not 
in  vain — the  "  Conduit"  spoken  of  in 
vol.  ii.  col.  1203  has  undergone  repair;  it 
is  hoped,  it  will  be  enclosed  by  the  pro- 
prietors as  one  of  the  new  relics  of  venera- 
ble antiquity. 

1435.     "  Beadles."      The    beadle    of 
Camberwell   is   a   lineal    descendant   of 
Earl  Withrington,  of  the  same  name  so 
celebrated  in  the  battle  of  Chevy  Chase. 
JEHOIAPA 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  25, 


20. 


Edmund.    King  and  Martyr.* 


OFFENSIVE  BARBERS. 
On  the  20th  of  November,  174f3,  fifty- 
one  barbers  were  convicted  before  the 
commissioners  of  excise,  and  fined  in  the 
penalty  of  twenty  pounds  each,  for  hav- 
ing in  their  custody  hair-powder  not  made 

»  Set  vol.  i.  col.  .493. 


1565 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  20. 


156o 


of  starch,  contrary  to  act  of  parliament ; 
and,  on  the  27th  of  the  same  month,  forty- 
nine  other  barbers  were  convicted  of  the 
like  offence,  and  fined  in  the  same 

penalty.* 

ROMAN  STATIONS  AT  PANCRAS  AND 

PENTONVILLE. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir, — The  following  observations  have 
been  the  result  of  a  visit  to  the  site  of 
the  undoubted  Roman  camp  at  Penton- 
ville,  and  the  conjectural  remains  at  St. 
Pancras.  Respecting  the  former,  I  have 
been  able  to  ascertain,  that  in  the  course 
of  the  year  1825  a  labourer,  who  was 
occupied  in  digging  in  the  praetorium, 
turned  up  a  considerable  quantity  of 
arrow  heads  ;  and  shortly  afterwards,  an- 
other labourer,  digging  a  few  yards  to  the 
south  of  the  same  spot,  for  materials  to 
mend  a  road,  uncovered  a  pavement  of 
red  tiles,  about  sixteen  feet  square,  each 
tile  being  about  an  inch  and  a  half  thick, 
and  about  six  inches  square ;  they  were 
mostly  figured,  and  some  had  "  strange 
characters  upon  them  :"  unfortunately,  the 
discoverer  had  neither  taste  nor  curiosity, 
and  they  were  consigned  to  the  bottom 
of  a  deep  road.f  Respecting  the  "  Brill" 
(at  Pancras)  I  have  examined  the  ground, 
and  find  that  S.  G.  (p.  1347,)  is  incorrect 
in  stating  the  praetorium  was  perfect,  half 
of  it  having  been  converted  into  bricks 
some  months  ago ;  and  the  brickmakers 
inform  me,  that  nothing  was  found,  not 
even  a  tile  or  brass  coin.  I  will  extract  a 
little  respecting  this  camp  from  a  work 
of  some  authority,  viz.  The  Environs  of 
London. 

Mr.  Lysons,  in  that  work,  treats  the  idea 
of  a  camp  having  been  made  near  this 
spot  as  quite  conjectural,!  and  remarks, 
that  Dr.  Stukely's  imagination,  in  the 
pursuit  of  a  favourite  hypothesis,  would 
sometimes  enable  him  to  see  more  than 
other  antiquaries  ;  leaving  the  language 
of  conjecture,  the  Dr.  points  out  the  dis- 
position of  the  troops,  and  the  rtation  of 
each  general's  tent,  with  as  much  con- 
fidence as  if  he  had  himself  been  in  the 
camp.  Here  was  Caesar's  prsetorium  ; 
here  was  stationed  Mandubrace,  king  of 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

t  On  visiting  this  camp,  I  searched  for  the  "  Old 
Well  in  the  Fosse ;" judge  my  surprise,  when  1  found 
a  modern  circular  frame  of  wood  sunk  in  the  fosse 
to  collect  clear  water  for  the  use  of  bricklayers,  &c. 
•hit  is  a  s>ppcirnen  of  artists  "  pretty  bits." 

t  Alitu— coinages  cf  their  own  fan<:y. 


London  ;*  here  were  the  quarters  of  M. 
Crassus,  the  quaestor;  here  was  Commus  ; 
there  the  Gaulish  princes,  &c.  &c.  It  is 
but  justice  to  Dr.  Stukely's  memory  to 
mention,  that  this  account  of  Caesar's 
camp  was  not  printed  in  his  life-time. 
As  he  withheld  it  from  the  public,  it  is 
probable  he  was  convinced  that  his  ima- 
gination had  carried  him  too  far,  on  this 
subject.  Dr.  S.  remarks,  that  the  vallum 
thrown  up  in  the  civil  war  was  in  the 
fields  next  the  duke  of  Bedford's  :  he  adds, 
that  it  was  levelled  after  the  Restoration, 
and  that  scarcely  a  trace  of  it  was  (when 
he  wrote)  visible,  notwithstanding  Caesar's 
camp  remained  in  so  perfect  a  state  after 
an  interval  of  1800  years.  Mr.  Lysons 
does  not  suppose,  that  the  entrenchment 
at  the  Brill  was  thrown  up  by  the  Lon- 
doners in  1642,  since  the  name  denotes 
something  more  ancient;-|-  but  it  certainly 
appears,  by  the  diurnals  published  at  the 
time,  that  entrenchments  and  ramparts 
were  thrown  up  in  the  fields  near  Pan- 
cras-church,  during  the  civil  war.  He 
thinks  it  not  improbable,  that  the  moated 
areas,  above-mentioned,  near  the  church, 
were  the  sites  of  the  vicarage  and  rectory- 
house,  which  are  mentioned  in  a  survey 
of  the  parish  of  Pancras  circa  1251.J 
This  is  certainly  the  most  probable  con- 
clusion, and  far  superior  to  the  wild 
chimeras  of  the  learned  doctor. 

I  will  conclude  this  slight,  and,  I  am 
aware,  imperfect  view  of  the  various 
opinions,  for  and  against,  by  observing, 
that  I  resided  in  Somers-town  and  its 
neighbourhood  for  a  considerable  period  ; 
I  carefully  watched  every  excavation  made 
for  sewers,  foundations  for  houses,  chapels, 
&c.,  but  I  never  heard  of  any  discoveries 
having  been  made.  The  place  lies  too 
low  to  have  even  been  frequented  by  the 
Romans,  more  especially  when  the  vio- 
lence of  the  river  of  Wells  is  considered, 
which  must  have  descended  from  the  hills 
like  a  torrent,  and  have  flooded  the  whole 
of  the  neighbourhood  of  Somers-town, 
Battle-bridge,  &c. 

I  am,  Sir,  yours,  &c. 
Oct.  24,  182G.  T.  A 


*  The  idea  is  ridiculous,  that  the  praetorium  of 
the  Roman  general  should  be  placed  in  a  swampy, 
low  situation,  wliile  such  an  advantageous  position 
on  the  high  ground,  on  which  St.  Pancras-church 
stands,  is  givrn  to  a  native  prince  ;  another  circum- 
stance is  against  the  doctor's  hypothesis,  that  this 
was  a  Roman  camp,  viz.  a  running  stream  through 
it. 

t  Dr.  Stukely  derives  it  from  Bury  Hill ;  but  the 
lowncss  of  the  situation  refutes  such  an  etymoloey. 

t  View  of  London,  vol.  lii.  p.  343  344. 


1567 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  21,  22. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  41  •  12. 


AEROSTATION. 

Messieurs  Montgolfier,  two  brothers, 
paper-makers  at  Annonay  in  the  depart- 
ment of  Ardeche,  in  1782  discovered 
the  use  of  rarefied  air  in  floating  balloons  ; 
and  on  the  21st  of  November,  1783, 
the  marquis  d'Arlandes  and  M.  Pilatre 
Rosier  made  the  first  unconfined  aerial 
voyage  in  a  machine  called  a  "  Montgol- 
fier," in  honour  of  the  inventors,  to 
distinguish  it  from  balloons  made  with 
inflammable  air.* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     .  ...  40  •  27. 


22. 


CECILIA.f 

Towards  the  latter  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth  century,  an  entertainment  was  in- 
stituted, on  the  22d  of  November,  iu 
commemoration  of  her,  by  many  of  the 
first  rank  in  the  kingdom  ;  which  was  con- 
tinued annually  for  a  considerable  time 
A  splendid  entertainment  was  provided 
at  Stationers'-hall,  which  was  constantly 
preceded  by  a  performance  of  vocal  and 
instrumental  music,  by  the  most  capital 
performers.  This  feast  is  represented  by 
Mr.  Motteux,  in  1  69  1  ,  as  "  one  of  the  gen- 
teelest  in  the  world  ;  there  are  no  formal- 
ities nor  gatherings  like  as  at  others,  and 
the  appearance  there  is  splendid."  The 
•words,  which  were  always  an  encomium 
on  their  patroness,  were  set  by  Purcell, 
Blow,  and  others  of  the  greatest  emi- 
nence ;  and  it  became  the  fashion  for 
writers  of  all  ranks  to  celebrate  saint 
Cecilia.  Besides  the  odes  to  her  by  Dry- 
den,  and  Pope,  Addison,  and  Yalden,  em- 
ployed their  talents  on  this  subject.  We 
have  also  odes  to  saint  Cecilia  by  Shad- 
well,  D'Urfey,  and  some  still  more  indif- 
ferent poets.  It  appears  by  Mr.  Motteux, 
that  there  were  in  1691  "  admirable  con- 
certs in  Charles-street  and  York-build- 
ings." 

On  the  anniversary  of  St.  Cecilia,  in 
1697,  a  sermon  was  preached  at  St. 

*  Butler's  Chronological  Exercises. 
\  See  vol.  i.  col.  149ft. 


1568 


Bride's  church  by  Dr.  Brady,  which  he 
published  under  the  title  of  "  Church 
Music  Vindicated."  The  last  account 
discovered  by  Mr.  Nichols,  of  any  enter- 
tainment to  her  memory  at  Stationers'- 
hall,  is  in  Mr.  Hughes's  ode  in  1703. 
The  festivity  appears  to  have  been  also 
celebrated  at  Oxford,  and  to  have  been 
continued  there  longer.  There  are  two  odes 
to  St.  Cecilia;  one,  in  1707,  composed  by 
Mr.  Purcell,  the  other,  in  1708,  by  Dr. 
Blow,  "  both  performed  at  St.  Mary-hall, 
in  Oxon,  by  Mr.  Saunders  and  Mr.  Court, 
assisted  by  the  best  voices  and  bands." 
Mr.  Addison's  ode  was  performed  there 
in  1699;  and  he  has  "a  song,"  without 
date,  on  the  same  occasion.* 


CECILIAN  SOCIETY. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  "  Cecilian  Society,"  established  in 
1785  by  a  few  individuals,  has  continued, 
to  the  present  day,  to  meet  once  a  week 
for  rehearsal,  and  once  a  fortnight  for  the 
public  performance  of  vocal  and  instru- 
mental music,  chiefly  sacred,  by  Handel, 
occasionally  relieved  by  popular  modern 
composition. 

This  society  has  been  the  school  of 
eminent  composers  and  performers  :  such 
as  Barthelomon,  Everett,  Purkis,  Banner, 
Busby,  Griffin,  Russel,  Miss  Bolton, 
Jacobs,  Miss  Gray,  and  many  others; 
among  whom  are  the  brothers,  the  Mr. 
Nightingales,  so  highly  esteemed  in  the 
musical  world  for  their  professional  talent, 
and  irreproachable  demeanour. 

The  venerable  president,  Mr.  Z.  Vin- 
cent, is  one  of  the  old  school  of  harmonists, 
and  a  man  of  letters.  His  heart  and  soul 
are  identified  in  Handel's  oratorios,  and 
his  judgment  continues  unimpaired.  A 
Mr.  Edwards  is  another  instance  of  attach- 
ment to  the  society,  he  having  been  a 
member  upwards  of  twenty  years.  The 
great  "  unity"  that  has  prevailed,  and  still 
prevails,  in  this  society,  is  an  example 
worthy  of  a  niche  in  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Their  present  performances  are  held  at  the 
"  Albion  Hall,"  Moorfields,  and  well  at- 
tended bv  the  issue  of  "  tickets."  In 
honour  of  this  day,  a  grand  miscellaneous 
concert  is  annually  performed  ;  many  cele- 
brated professionals  attend,  and  the  lovers 
of  harmony  never  fail  of  having  a  high 
treat. 


Nichols's  Sel.  Coll.  of  Pb«ni. 


1569 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  22. 


1570 


ASTRONOMICAL. 

On  the  22nd  of  November  the  sun  en- 
ters Sagittarius. 

According  to  an  old  magical  MS.  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  an  aspect  of 
"  Sagittary"  seems  to  have  dominion  over 
dogs.  "  When  you  wish  to  enter  where 


there  are  dogs.,  that  they  may  not  hinder 
yon,  make  a  tin  image  of  a  dog,  whose 
head  is  erected  towards  his  tail,  under 
the  first  face  of  Sagittary,  and  say  over 
it,  1 1  bind  all  dogs  by  this  image,  that 
they  do  not  raise  their  heads  or  bark  ;'  and 
enter  where  you  please."* 


"—  «  tfee  ©Or  (general"—  of 


Commander  of  some  forces  there, 
And  intimate  with  Mr.  Mayor. 


VOL.  II.— 102 


*  Fosbroke'&  British  Monachism. 


1571 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  22. 


1572 


Benjamin  Mayo  is  believed  to  be  the 
proper  name  of  the  "  General,"  his  other 
appellations  he  derived  from  having  been 
the  ringleader  of  the  boys,  from  his  youth 
to  the  present  time,  on  all  occasions  for 
which  they  assemble  together  in  the  town 
of  Nottingham. 

In  order  "  to  secure  the  boundaries  of 
the  town,  a  certain  number  of  respectable 
characters,  annually  appointed,  form  what 
is  called  the  Middleton,  Mickleton,  or 
Leet  Jury,  and  circumambulate  them 
twice  a  year,  with  the  coroner  at  their 
head ;  it  is  also  the  duty  of  this  jury  to 
break  down  all  obstructions  in  old  roads, 
to  fine  those  persons  who  may  have  made 
such  encroachments  as  do  not  imme- 
diately obstruct  a  public  rbad,  and  to 
present  all  nuisances  at  the  quarter 
sessions."*  At  the  Easter  and  Michael- 
mas quarter  sessions,  the  day  for  these 
duties  is  always  appointed  to  be  the 
Monday  se'nnight  following  ;  and  hence 
it  is  called  Middleton  Monday.  The 
name  of  "  Middleton  is  said  to  be  retained 
from  lord  Middleton,"  who  is  steward 
of  the  Peveril  Court,  which  has  now  no 
jurisdiction  in  Nottingham,  it  being  a 
town-county.  The  origin  of  these  matters, 
however,  is  of  little  consequence  in  an 
account  of  the  "  General ;"  they  are  only 
referred  to  as  preparatory  to  the  observa- 
tion, that  he  is  a  conspicuous  personage 
in  the  ceremonial  of  the  day. 

On  "  Middleton  Monday"  all  the 
school-boys  in  the  town  expect  a  holyday ; 
it  is  the  juvenile  Saturnalia  ;  and  though 
the  "  General"  is  great  on  all  occasions, 
he  is  especially  so  on  "  Middleton  Mon- 
day ;"  for  compared  with  him,  the  mayor, 
the  coroner,  and  other  municipal  autho- 
rities, are  subordinate  officers  in  the 
estimation  of  the  youthful  tribes. 

Previous  to  the  jury  commencing  their 
survey,  away  trots  "General,"  with  several 
hundreds  of  boys  at  his  heels,  to  secure 
the  sacred  and  inviolable  right  of  a  holy- 
day.  Two  or  three  urchins,  with  shining, 
morning  faces,  lead  the  way  to  their 
own  schoolmaster's,  who,  in  violation 
of  the  "  orders  of  the  day,"  is  seated 
amidst  the  few  children  whose  parents 
have  refused  to  grant  a  holyday,  and 
therefore  dare  not  "  play  travant."  Some 
"  devoted  Decius"  in  miniature,  ventures 
in,  on  the  forlorn  hope  of  procuring 
liberty  for  the  rest.  Down  drop  books, 


•  £luckner's  History  of  Nottingham. 


pens,  pencils,   to  the  increasing  cry   of 
"  Out,   out,  out."     The  commander-in- 
chief  arrives,   amidst   the  cheers  of  his 
enthusiastic  and  devoted  troops,  takes  up 
his   position  opposite  to  the  door,   and 
commands    the    onset.      The    advanced 
guard  assail  the  portal   with   redoubled 
blows  of  their  pocket-handkerchiefs,  and 
old  rope-ends,  knotted  into  tommies,  and 
the  main  body  throw  the  missile  mud. 
Ere   long,  a  random  stone  breaks  some 
window ;  this  is  speedily  followed  by  a 
second  and  third  crash ;  out  sallies  the 
master  to  seize  the  culprit,  his  sentinels 
are  overpowered,  the  invaders  rush  in, 
the  besieged  are  unmercifully  belaboured 
till  the  capitulation  is  completed,  but  no 
sooner  do  they  join  the  "  liberating  army," 
than  a  shout  of    triumph  is  raised,  and 
the  place  is  abandoned.      The  aide-de- 
camps having  reported  to  "  the  General," 
what  other  fortresses  hold  out,  the  nearest 
is  attacked  in  the  same  way.     It  often 
lappens,  however,  that  a  parley  is  de- 
manded, and  "  the  General''  shamelessly 
receives   a  bribe  to  desist.     Alas  !   that 
one  so  devoted   to  the  cause  of  liberty 
should  be  so  easily  corrupted — twopenci 
will    induce  the   commander-in-chief  to 
withdraw,  with  his  faithful   followers,  of 
fickle  principle,  and  leave  the  anxious  gar- 
rison  to  the  uncontrolled  power   of  its 
wily  governor. 

Upwards  of  twenty  years  ago,  oppo- 
sition to  "  the  General"  was  rare,  but 
about  that  period  schoolmasters  began  to 
learn  their  strength.  One  individual 
successfully  resisted  during  a  three  hours' 
siege ;  the  house  for  years  bore  marks 
of  the  mud  with  which  it  was  pelted ; 
but  ever  after  he  was  triumphant,  though 
frequently  at  the  expense  of  an  oaken 
staff,  or  an  ash  sapling,  broken  in  repuls- 
ing the  invaders.  After  repeated  assaults, 
"  the  General"  deemed  this  "  hold"  im- 
pregnable, and  desisted  from  his  attacks. 

So  many  of  the  disciples  of  learning 
being  emancipated,  or  prisoners,  as  "  the 
General"  can  liberate  or  capture,  he  sets 
forward  with  the  "  surveying  council," 
escorted  by  his  army,  to  commence  the 
perambulation  of  the  town.  .  If  a  project- 
ing scraper  endanger  the  shins  of  the 
burgesses,  it  is  recorded,  and  the  Mid- 
dleton jury  pass  on  ;  but  the  juvenile  ad- 
mirers of  summary  and  instantaneous 
justice  are  for  the  immediate  removal  of 
the  offender.  Perhaps  the  good  old  dame 
of  the  house  "  likes  not  these  new  regu- 
lations," and  takes  up  a  strong  position 


157-3 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  22. 


1574 


in  its  defence,  armed  with  a  mop  and 
bucket  of  water.  After  a  momentous 
pause,  a  hardy  champion  rushes  forward 
to  seize  the  offensive  iron,  and  wrench  it 
from  its  seat ;  he  retires,  overwhelmed 
and  half  drowned  ;  hero  after  hero  presses 
on,  and  is  defeated;  till  some  modern 
Ajax  grapples  with  the  mop,  and  making 
a  diversion  in  favour  of  the  assailants, 
the  luckless  scraper  is  borne  off  in 
triumph. 

View  "  the  General"  at  eleven  o'clock, 
with  his  forces  drawn  up  in  front  of  the 
Castle  lodge,  demanding  admittance  into 
the  Castle  yard — a  summons  always 
evaded  by  the  distribution  of  a  quantity 
of  cakes  and  gingerbread.  On  "  the 
General's"  word"  of  command  the  precious 
sweets  are  thrown,  one  by  one,  over  the 
gale,  and  the  confusion  of  a  universal 
scramble  ensues.  After  the  whole 
is  distributed,  the  popularity  of  "  the  Ge- 
neral" rapidly  wanes;  hundreds  are  re- 
duced to  scores,  and  scores  to  ones — at 
noon  he  is 

Deserted  in  his  utmost  need 
By  those  his  former  bounty  fed. 
In  memory,   however,   of  his    departed 
greatness,  he  never  deigns  to  work  for  the 
rest  of  the  day. 

Before  the  approach  of  "  Middleton 
Monday,"  fifty  times  a  day  the  important 
question  is  put  to  the  General,  "  When 
will  be  Middleton  Monday?"  Once  he 
said,  "I  don't  know  yet,  the  mayor ha'n't 
ax'd  me  what  day  '11  suit  me."  On  the 
following  Saturday  he  answered,  "  The 
mayor  sent  his  respects  to  know  if  I'd 
let  it  be  Middleton  Monday  next  week ; 
and  I  sent  my  respects,  and  I'd  come." 

Ben  Mayo  has  ever  been  "  null,  void, 
and  of  no  effect,"  except  in  his  character 
of  "  General."  He  is  a  harmless  idiot, 
who,  during  most  of  his  life,  has  been  an 
inmate  of  St.  Peter's  workhouse.  He  is 
now  neatly  fifty  years  of  age.  If  erect,  he 
would  be  under  the  middle  size;  his 
stature  not  being  more  than  four  feet  nine 
inches.  He  is  very  round-shouldered. 
His  eyes  are  dark  grey,  and  rather  lively ; 
the  lower  part  of  his  face  is  no  way  re- 
markable, but  his  forehead  is  very  high, 
and  singularly  prominent  in  the  middle ; 
his  head,  which  is  thinly  covered  with 
hair  cut  very  short,  always  projected 
before  him  in  his  shuffling  gait,  which  is 
rather  a  run  than  a  walk.  His  vestment 
generally  consists  of  the  "  hodden  grey" 
uniform  of  the  parish ;  his  shirt  collar, 
like  that  of  some  other  public  characters, 


.s  usually  unbuttoned,  and  displays  his 
copper-coloured  bosom.  Grey  stockings 
and  quarter  boots  complete  his  equip- 
ment, for  he  never  wears  a  hat.  Though 
coarse,  his  dress  is  generally  clean  and  tidy. 

"  The  General"  is  constant  in  his  at- 
tendance at  church,  where  his  behaviour 
is  serious ;  and  he  would  on  no  account 
be  seen  about  in  the  streets  on  the  Sab- 
bath, for,  being  one  of  the  public  characters 
of  the  town,  it  would  be  setting  a  bad 
example.  In  politics,  he  is  a  staunch 
supporter  of  the  powers  that  be ;  on  such 
occasions  as  the  king's  birth-day,  and  the 
coronation,  Ben  is  sure  to  be  seen  with 
a  bunch  of  blue  riband  to  his  coat, 
while  at  an  election,  to  display  his  loyalty, 
he  is  dusted  with  power-blue  from  the 
crown  of  his  head  to  the  skirts.  He  has, 
however,  no  objection  to  aid  "  the  Ja- 
cobin corporation,"  as  far  as  in  him  lies ; 
and,  according  to  his  own  account,  he  is 
particularly  intimate  with  the  mayor  for 
the  time  being,  whom  he  allows  to  be  th 
first  man  in  the  town — himself  being 
second.  He  is  remarkably  fond  of  peace 
and  with  his  wand  in  hand  will  "  charge ' 
it,  where  there  is  no  fear  of  its  being 
broken. 

Like  other  military  men,  "  General"  is 
a  favourite  with  the  ladies,  inasmuch 
as  he  is  known  equally  to  high  and  low, 
and  makes  promises  to  all  indiscrimi- 
nately (who  please  him)  that  he  will  marry 
them  "  next  Sunday  morning ;"  at  the 
same  time,  he  cautions  the  favoured  fair 
not  to  be  later  than  half  past  seven,  "  for 
fear  somebody  else  should  get  him." 

The  "  General's"  usual  occupation  is 
to  sell  the  cheap  commodities  of  the 
walking  stationers,  such  as  dreadful  ship- 
wrecks, horrid  murders,  calendars  of  the 
prisoners,  last  dying  speeches  and  beha- 
viours, or  lists  of  the  race  horses.  Some- 
times, when  the  titles  of  these  occur  closely, 
he  makes  curious  "  varieties  of  literature." 
Not  long  since,  he  was  calling  "  A  right 
and  true  calendar  of  all  the  running 
horses  confined  in  his  majesty's  gole 
owners'  names,  horses'  names,  and  colours 
of  the  riders,  tried,  cast,  'quit,  and  con- 
demned before  my  lord  judge  this  'sizes 
and  how  they  came  in  every  heat  of  tb£ 
three  days,  with  the  sentences  of  thi 
prisoners." 

About  four  years  ago,  at  Lenton  fait 
and  wakes,  which  are  always  at  Whit- 
suntide, and  numerously  attended  from 
Nottingham,  being  only  a  mile  distant, 
some  wag  set  "  General"  to  proclaim  the 


1575 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  23. 


1576 


Lenton  fair.  On  this  occasion  he  mounted 
an  enormous  cocked-hat  of  straw,  and  had 
his  wand  in  his  hand.  He  jumbled  to- 
gether pigs,  gingerbread,  baa-lambs,  cows, 
dolls,  horses,  ale,  fiddling,  sheep,  &c.  in 
a  confused  mass ;  whilst  the  latter  part 
of  the  proclamation,  though  perfectly 
true,  was  very  far  from  being  u  quite 
correct." 

Of  the  many  anecdotes  current  of 
"  General,"  one  or  two  authentic  ones 
will  display  the  union  of  shrewdness  and 
simplicity  common  to  persons  of  his 
order  of  intelligence.  On  a  certain  oc- 
casion, when  public  attention  was  directed 
towards  the  commander-in-chief,  one 
evening  in  the  twilight  Ben  began, 
"  Here's  the  grand  and  noble  speech  as 
the  duke  of  York  made  yesterday."  A 
person,  who  had  heard  nothing  of  such 
a  speech,  immediately  purchased  one, 
and  on  approaching  a  window  found 
himself  possessed  of  a  piece  of  blank 
paper.  " General," said  he,  "here's  nothing 
on  it."  "  No,  sir,  the  duke  of  York  said 
nowt."  Being  set,  at  the  workhouse,  to 
turn  a  wheel,  he  did  so  properly  enough  for 
about  half  an  hour,  but  becoming  tired, 
he  immediately  began  to  turn  backwards, 
nor  could  he  be  persuaded  to  the  con- 
trary. A  blockhead  once  tried  to  make 
him  quarrel  with  an  idiot  lad,  as  they 
were  employed  in  sweeping  the  street 
together ;  "  Oh,"  said  he,  "  he  is  a  poor 
soft  lad,  and  beneath  my  notice."  There 
is  another  instance  of  his  dislike  of  work  : 
having  been  set  to  weed  part  of  the  gar- 
den, he  performed  the  task  by  pulling 
up  all  the  flowers  and  herbs,  and  leaving 
the  weeds  growing.  He  once  found  a 
sixpence,  and  ran  up  the  street  shouting, 
"  Who's  lost  sixpence,  who's  lost  six- 
pence ?"  "  It's  mine,  General,"  said  one. 
•'  But  had  your's  a  hole  in  it  ?"  "  Yes," 
said  he—-"  But  this  hasn't,"  rejoined  Ge- 
neral, and  away  he  ran.  His  mode  of 
running  is  remarkable,  inasmuch  as  one 
leg  is  considerably  shorter  than  the  other, 
which  gives  his  body  an  up-and-down 
motion.  One  peculiarity  is,  that  when 
he  has  any  fresh  papers  to  sell  he  will 
never  stop  to  take  money  till  quite  out  of 
oreath,  and  arrived  at  the  extremity  of 
he  town. 

DAVID  LOVE,  of  whom  there  is  an  ac- 
count in  the  present  volume  of  the 
^very-Day  Book,  p.  226,  is  still  in  Not- 
tingham. In  May  he  visited  Hull,  but 
while  carolling  his  wild  lays  in  a  place 


where  he  was  not  known,  he  was  appre- 
hended as  a  vagrant,  and  consigned  to 
the  tread-mill  for  a  fortnight. 

"  Oft  from  apparent  ills  our  blessings  flow/ 

David,  on  his  return  to  Nottingham, 
favoured  us  with  "  three  varra  couras 
poems  of  David  Love's  composing,  all 
about  the  trad  wheel,  where  he  worked 
for  a  fortnight — only  a  penny."  His 
numerous  admirers  purchased  consider- 
ably. 

Besides  the  "  General"  and  the  "  bard" 
now  living,  Nottingham  has  been  the 
residence  of  several  equally  noted  per- 
sonages deceased  ;  such  as  Tommy  Rip- 
pon,  Piping  Charley,  the  ventriloquist, 
&c. ;  and  we  have  yet  amongst  us  Jacky 
Peet,  and  other  memorable  characters, 
whose  fame,  it  is  feared,  may  not  find  an 
honest  chronicler. 

Nottingham,  Oct.  23,  1826. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  39  *  65. 


23. 


ST.  CLEMENT.* 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir,  —  In  your  last  year's  volume  I  see 
you  have  taken  great  notice  of  St.  Cle- 
ment, and  the  customs  observed  on  his 
day  ;  but  I  do  not  see  any  mention  of  a 
custom  which  was  common  in  Worcester- 
shire, where  I  was  born.  I  am  entirely 
ignorant  of  its  origin  ;  yet  in  my  youth  I 
have  often  been  at  its  celebration.  The 
custom  was  as  follows  :  — 

On  the  afternoon  of  St.  Clement's  day, 
a  number  of  boys  collected  together  in  a 
body,  and  went  from  house  to  house  ;  and  at 
the  door  of  each  house,  one,  or  sometimes 
more,  would  recite,  or  chaunt,  the  follow- 
ing lines  — 

Catherine  and  Clement,  be  here,  be  here  ; 
Some  of  your  apples,  and  some  of  your  beer 
Some  for  Peter,  and  some  for  Paul, 
And  some  for  him  that  made  us  all. 
Clement  was  a  good  old  man, 
For  his  sake  give  us  some  ; 
Not  of  the  worst,  but  some  of  the  best, 
And  God  will  send  your  soul  to  rett. 

Some  would  say, 
And  God  will  send  you  a  good  nighf*  -en 

*  See  vol.  i.  col.  1497. 


(577 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  24. 


1378 


Sometimes  grown  men  would  go  in 
like  manner,  and,  to  such,  the  people  of  the 
house  would  give  ale  or  cider ;  but  to  the 
boys  they  gave  apples,  or,  if  they  had  none 
to  spare,  a  few  halfpence.  Raving  col- 
lected a  good  store  of  apples,  which  they  sel- 
dom failed  to  do,  the  boys  repaired  to  some 
one  of  their  houses,  where  they  roasted 
and  ate  the  apples ;  and  frequently  the 
old  would  join  the  young,  and  large  ves- 
sels of  ale  or  cider  would  be  brought 
in,  and  some  of  the  roasted  apples 
thrown  hot  into  it,  and  the  evening  would 
then  be  spent  with  much  mirth  and  inno- 
cent amusement ;  such  as,  I  sorrow  to 
think,  have  departed  never  to  return. 

Such,  sir,  was  one  of  the  usages  "  in 
my  youthful  days,"  in  that  part  of  the 
country  of  which  I  have  spoken.  I 
have  had  but  little  intercourse  with  it  of 
late  years,  but  I  fear  these  improved  times 
have  left  but  little  spirit  or  opportunity 
for  the  observance  of  such  ways,  or  the 
enjoyment  of  such  felicity.  Much  has 
been  said  of  improvement,  and  the  happy 
state  of  the  present  over  times  past ;  but, 
on  striking  the  balance,  it  may  be  found 
that  the  poor  have  lost  much  of  their  solid 
comfort,  for  the  little  improvement  they 
have  obtained. 

You,  Mr.  Editor,  have  exposed  with  a 
masterly  hand  the  superstitions  and 
monkery  of  the  olden  time,  for  which  you 
have  my  best  thanks,  in  common,  I  be- 
lieve, with  those  of  nine  out  of  every  ten 
in  the  nation  ;  but  should  a  Mr.  HONE 
arise  two  hundred  years  hence,  I  think  he 
would  have  something  to  say  upon  these 
our  times.  I  fear,  however,  I  am  going 
beyond  my  object,  which  is  not  to  find 
fault,  but  to  acquaint  you  with  a  practice 
which,  if  worthy  a  place  in  your  pleasant, 
instructive,  and  highly  useful  work,  I 
shall  be  glad  to  see  there  memorialed. 
I  am,  &c. 

SELITS. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  02. 

24. 

SPECTRES  AND  APPARITIONS. 

In  a  popular  "  calendar"  there  are 
some  observations  on  this  day,  which,  as 
tne  time  for  telling  "  Ghost  stones" 
is  come  in,  seem  appropriate.  They  are 
to  the  effect,  that  there  is  an  essential 
difference  between  "  Ocular  Spectres" 
and  "  Spectral  Illusions.' 


Ocular  Spectres  move  with  the  motion 
of  the  eye,  whatever  may  be  the  forms  of 
the  spectrum  on  the  retina ;  hence,  they 
are  spectra  in  the  eye, 

Spectral  Illusions,  or  Ghosts,  seem  to 
move  with  their  own  proper  motion,  like 
real  persons,  and  the  objects  in  dreams ; 
hence  they  are  not  in  the  eye  itself  cr 
retina,  but  may  arise  in  the  brain. 

We  know  .nothing  of  the  particular 
laws  whereby  these  forms  are  regulated, 
as  they  occur  without  the  conscious  pre- 
currence  of  the  usual  chains  of  thought, 
and  often  represent  forms,  and  combina- 
tions of  forms,  almost  entirely  new  to  us. 
Some  persons  only  see  these  spectres 
once  or  twice  in  their  lives,  and  that  only 
during  diseases :  others  are  continually 
harassed  by  them,  and  often  mistake  some 
one  consistent  spectre,  which  frequently 
comes  and  converses  with  them,  for  their 
guardian  angel.  In  proportion,  however, 
as  the  phantom  gains  on  the  credulity  of 
the  patient  who  beholds  it,  the  latter  ap- 
proximates, towards  insanity.  According 
to  the  disturbance  of  the  brain  of  the 
individuals,  the  spectres  are  either  horri- 
fying or  delightful,  and  partake  of  the 
character  of  the  patient's  mind,  as  it  is 
influenced  variously  by  desire,  fear,  hope, 
and  so  on.  We  have  known  instances 
where  the  antiphlogistic  measures  resorted 
to  with  success,  have  been  viewed  by  the 
patient,  when  recovered,  as  positive  evils, 
having  forcibly  torn  from  him  some  per- 
petual and  pleasing  illusion. 

The  late  Mr.  John  Wheeler,  preben- 
dary of  Westminster,  used  to  relate  a 
remarkable  story  of  the  Abb£  Pilori  at 
Florence,  who  incurred  a  tremendous 
spectral  disorder  in  consequence  of  a  sur- 
feit of  mushrooms  he  one  day  ate.  These 
fungi,  not  digesting,  disturbed  his  brain, 
and  he  saw  the  frightful  and  appalling 
forms  of  scorpions  continually  before  his 
eyes  for  a  length  of  time. 

This  brings  to  our  minds  yet  another 
observation  with  regard  to  spectra.  Per- 
sons who  are  somewhat  delirious  from 
fever  are  apt  to  give  to  half-distinguished 
forms,  in  a  darkish  chamber,  the  most 
frightful  imaginary  shapes.  This  is  a 
disorder  distinct  from  that  of  seeing 
phantoms.  A.  Y.  R.  a  child,  being  ill  of 
fever,  saw  some  bulbous  roots  laying  on 
a  table  in  the  room,  and  conceived  them 
immediately  to  be  scorpions ;  nor  could 
any  thing  convince  her  of  the  contrary, 
and  they  consequently  were  removed  out 
of  tbe  room  to  relieve  her  terrors. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—NOV EMBER  25. 


1580 


A  familiar  instance  of  deception  is  ex- 
emplified in  the  false  voices  which  some 
persona  imagine  they  hear  calling  them, 
faintly  m  common,  but  so  as  to  deceive 
for  a  moment.  When  this  false  percep- 
tion of  sound  concurs  with  images  of 
spectral  illusion,  a  formidable  imitation 
of  reality  is  maintained.* 

A  poetical  friend,  whose  signature  will 
be  recollected  as  having  been  attached  to 

*  Dr.  Forster's  Perennial  Calendar. 


"  SEA  SONNETS,"  obligingly  communi- 
cates a  seasonable  effusion  of  the  like 
order  of  composition,  prefaced  by  the  fol- 
fowing  passage  from  Dr.  Buchan  : — 

"  If  the  power  of  volition  be  suspended,  per- 
sons may  dream  while  they  are  awake. 
Such  is  the  case  when,  in  an  evening, 
looking  into  the  fire,  we  let  slip  the  reins  of 
the  imagination,  and,  yielding  implicitly  to 
external  objects,  a  succession  of  splendid 
or  terrific  imagery  is  produced  by  the 
embers  in  the  grate." 


FIRE-SIDE    SONNET. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

For  very  want  of  thought  and  occupation 
Upon  my  fire,  as  broad  and  high  it  blaz'd, 
In  idle  and  unweeting  mood  I  gaz'd, 

And,  in  that  mass  of  bright  and  glowing  things 

Fancy,  which  in  such  moments  readiest  springs, 

Soon  found  materials  for  imagination  : 
Within  the  fire,  all  listless  as  I  maz'd, 
There  saw  I  trees  and  towers,  and  hills  and  plains, 
Faces  with  warm  smiles  glowing,  flocks  and  swains. 

And  antic  shapes  of  laughable  creation  : 


And  thus  the  poet's  soul  of  fire  contains 
of  all  things  bright  and  glorious ! 


rais'd 


A  store 

By  fancy,  that  daft  artizan,  to  shape 
Into  fair  scenes  and  forms,  that  nature's  best  may  ape. 


W.  I 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  80. 


25. 


ST  CATHERINE. 

For  an  account  of  this  Saint,  see  vol.  i. 
col.  1504. 

BUBBLES. 

In  the  rt  Morning  Advertiser"  of  this 
day,  1807,  which  year  was  almost  as 
much  distinguished  by  joint-stock  impo- 
sitions as  the  present,  there  are  two  ad- 
vertisements, which,  from  their  station  in 
the  advertising  columns  of  that  paper, 
have  a  more  remarkable,  than  it  they 
had  been  disp/«yed  in  its  columns  of 
entertainment,  viz : 


FINAL    MEETING     of    the     PUBLIC 
BLACKING  SUBSCRIPTION  COM- 
PANY, held  at  the  Boot  in  Leather-lane, 


ANTHONY  VARNISH,  Esq.  in  the  Chair, 
Sir  John  Blackwell,  Knight,  being  indisposed. 

The  Chairman  reported  that  Mr.  Timothy 
Lightfoot,  the  Treasurer,  had  brushed  off  with 
the  old  fund,  and  that  the  deputation  who  had 
waited  on  Mr.  Fawcett,  the  Proprietor  of  the 
Brilliant  Fluid  Blacking,  at  No.  76,  Hounds- 
ditch,  could  not  prevail  on  him  to  dispose  of 
his  right  thereto  in  favour  of  this  Company, 
although  they  had  made  him  the  most  liberal 
offers. 

Resolved,  That  this  Meeting  being  fully 
sensible  that  any  attempt  to  establish  a  rival 
Blacking  would  totally  fail  of  success,  from 
the  high  estimation  in  which  the  above  popular 
article  is  held,  and  the  mishap  of  the  Treasurer 
having  damped  the  ardour  of  the  undertaking, 
that  this  design  be  altogether  abandoned. 

Resolved,  That  the  character  of  the  Pro- 
moters of  this  Company  ought  not  to  be  black- 
ened in  public  esteem,  as  there  is  no  direct 
proof  of  their  having  shared  the  spoils  with 
the  Treasurer. 

Signed,  by  Order  of  the  Meeting, 

JACOB  BRUSH  WELL,  Sec. 

fflHE    LONDON    COMPANY   for   GE- 
J.    NUINE  MATCHES.— It  having  been 


1581 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  26. 


1582 


suggested  to  Mr.  PATT,  Proprietor  of  the  Equit- 
able Office,  Holborn-hill,  that  a  complaint 
prevails  among  Servants,  owing  to  the  adulte- 
ration of  Brimstone,  and  the  badness  of  Wood, 
in  consequence  of  which,  they  cannot  get 
their  Fires  lighted  in  proper  time,  which 
obliges  many  of  their  Masters  to  go  to  business 
without  their  breakfast. 

Such  imposition  having  proved  very  inju- 
rious to  a  number  of  servants,  by  being  dis- 
charged for  neglect  of  duty,  has  induced  Mr. 
Parr,  in  conjunction  with  six  eminent  Timber 
Merchants,  to  purchase  those  extensive  Pre- 
mises in  Gunpowder-alley,  near  Shoe-lane, 
formerly  occupied  by  the  Saltpetre  Company, 
for  the  sole  purpose  of  a  Genuine  Match  Ma- 
nufactory. 

The  Public  may  ba  assured  that  this  laud- 
able undertaking  is  countenanced  by  some  of 
the  first  characters  in  the  United  Kingdoms. 

The  Managers  pledge  themselves  to  employ 
the  best  work-people,  both  men,  women,  and 
children,  that  can  be  procured,  which  will 
amount  to  1500  persons  and  upwards,  as  they 
conclude,  by  the  large  orders  already  received, 
that  a  less  number  will  procrastinate  the 
business. 

Each  Subscriber  to  have  the  privilege  of 
recommending  two,  who  are  to  bring  certifi- 
cates from  the  Minister  of  the  Parish  where 
they  reside,  of  their  being  sober,  honest,  and 
industrious  persons. 

The  Managers  further  engage  to  make  oath 
before  the  Lord  Mayor  every  three  months, 
that  the  matches  are  made  of  the  most  prime 
new  yellow  Deal,  and  also  that  the  Brimstone 
is  without  the  least  adulteration. 

Not  less  than  12  penny  bunches  can  be  had. 
Any  order  amounting  to   II.  will  be  sent 
free  of  expense,  to  any  part  of  the  town,  not 
exceeding  two  miles  from  the  Manufactory. 

The  Capital  first  intended  to  be  raised  is 
Two  Millions,  in  50/.  Shares,  2/.  per  Share  to 
be  paid  at  the  time  of  subscribing,  3/.  that 
day  month,  4/.  in  six  weeks,  5/.  in  two  months, 
and  so  on  regularly  until  the  whole  is  sub- 
scribed. 

Holders  of  five  shares  to  be  on  Committees, 
and  holders  of  tea  will  qualify  them  for  Direc- 
tors. 

Although  this  plan  has  not  been  set  on  foot 
more  than  a  week,  it  is  presumed  the  call  for 
Shares  has  been  equal  to  a  month's  demand 
for  Shares  in  any  of  the  late  Institutions. 

Schemes  at  large  may  be  had,  and  Sub- 
scriptions received  by  Mr.  Tinder,  Secretary, 
at  the  Counting-house,  from  ten  till  two ; 
also  at  his  Residence,  near  the  Turpentine 
Manufactory,  St.  John -street-road,  from  four 
to  six  ;  likewise  by  Messrs.  Sawyer,  Memel, 
and  Tuup,  Solicitors,  Knavc's-acre,  West- 
minster. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...   41.  27. 


26. 

THE  SEASON 

Autumnal  appearances  are  increasing,  and 
occasional  gales  of  wind  and  interchanges 
of  nipping  frost  hasten  the  approaching 
winter.  The  following  passage  seems  to 
allude  to  the  wintry  garb  of  nature  ;— 
"  The  earth  mourneth  and  languisheth  • 
Lebanon  is  ashamed  and  withereth  away  ; 
Sharon  is  like  a  wilderness ;  and  Bashan 
and  Carmel  shake  off  their  fruits." — Isaiah, 
xxiii.  9. 

Soon  shall  we  be  compelled  to  exclaim 
with  the  poet,  in  reference  to  this,  gene- 
rally speaking,  gloomy  season, 
That  time  of  year  thou  mayest  in  me  behold, 
When  yellow  leaves,  or  none,  or  few  do  hang 
On  those  wild  boughs  which  shake  against  the 

cold, 
Bare  ruined  quires,  where  late  the  sweet  bird* 

sang. 

November,  however,  has  its  bright  as  well 
as  its  dark  side.  "It  is  now,"  observes 
a  pleasing  writer,  "  that  the  labourer  is 
about  to  enjoy  a  temporary  mitigation  of 
the  season's  toil.  His  little  store  of  winter 
provision  having  been  hardly  earned  and 
safely  lodged,  his  countenance  brightens, 
and  his  heart  warms,  with  the  anticipation 
of  winter  comforts.  As  the  day  shortens 
and  the  hours  of  darkness  increase,  the 
domestic  affections  are  awakened  anew  by 
a  closer  and  more  lengthened  converse ; 
the  father  is  now  once  more  in  the  midst 
of  his  family ;  the  child  is  now  once  more 
on  the  knee  of  its  parent;  and  she,  in 
whose  comfort  his  heart  is  principally  in- 
terested, is  again  permitted,  by  the  privi- 
leges of  the  season,  to  increase  and  to  par- 
ticipate his  happiness.  It  is  now  that  the 
husbandman  is  repaid  for  his  former  risk 
and  anxiety — that,  having  waited  patient- 
ly for  the  coming  harvest,  he  builds  up 
his  sheaves,  loads  his  waggons,  and  re- 
plenishes his  barns."  It  is  now  that  men 
of  study  and  literary  pursuit  are  admo- 
nished of  the  best  season  suited  for  the 
pursuits  of  literature;  and  the  snug  fire- 
side in  an  armed  chair,  during  a  long 
winter's  evening,  with  an  entertaining 
book,  is  a  pleasure  by  no  means  to  be 
despised.  There  is  something,  too,  very 
pleasing  in  the  festivals  which  are  now 
approaching,  and  which  preserve  the  re- 
collection of  olden  time.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  41  •  52. 

*  Dr.  Pursier'*  Perennial  Calendar. 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— NOVEMBER  27,  28,  29,  30. 


1584 


27, 

A  NATIONAL  DEATH  DAY. 

The  chapter  of  an  old,  black-letter  book 
of  wonderful  things  concludes  with  the 
following  amusing  paragraph  : — 

"  Here  may  we  also  speak  of  the 
people,  Lucumoria,  dwelling  among  the 
fiilles,  beyond  the  river  Olbis.  These 
men  die  every  year  the  27  of  November, 
which  day  at  Rutheas  was  dedicated  to 
Saint  Gregorie ;  and  in  the  next  spring 
following,  most  commonly  at  the  four  and 
twentieth  day  of  April,  they  rise  again 
like  frogs."* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ....  40  •  00. 

J^obember  28. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  65. 


NATURALISTS7  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature 39-90. 


j^obember  30. 

ST.  ANDREW. 

Respecting   this  Saint,   the  patron  of 
Scotland,  there  is  a  notice  in  vol.  i.  1536. 

THE  MODEL  LOTTERY. 
For  the  Every- Day  Book. 
A  Model  Lottery  is  drawn  on  the  30th 
*f  November,  at  Mr.  Oldershaw's  office, 
Lower-street,  Islington.  Several  capital 
prizes  are  made,  the  principal  of  which 
is  Fonthill  Abbey,  valued  at  51.  There 
are  others  less  valuable,  Islington  church, 
Cannonbury  Tower,  the  Queen's  Head, 
Sir  William  Curtis's  villa,  at  Southgate, — 
the  house  in  which  Garrick  was  born, — 
many  Italian  buildings,  and  a  variety  to 
the  number  of  500.  Each  adventurer,  by 
paying  three  shillings,  draws  a  share 
which  is  equal,  in  the  worst  chance,  to  the 
deposit.  The  scheme  is  contrived  by  an 
ingenious  artist  and  his  wife,  whose  names 
are  Golding.  Previously  to  the  drawing- 
day,  three  days  are  allowed  for  friendly 
inspection.  It  is  laudable  to  see  this 


Model  Lotteiy  patronised  by  the  most 
repectable  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  the 
vicinity  where  it  takes  place.  This  is  the 
second  year  of  its  existence. 

P.  S.  For  Bradenstock,  p.  1371,  read 
Bradenstoke;  and  for  Brinkworth. 
p.  1373,  read  Bremhill.  Dr.  AUsop,  of 
Calne,  was  the  gentleman  who  cut  out  th  • 
"  White  Horse  at  Cheverill,"  at  which 
place  and  time  a  revel  was  most  merrily 
kept.  J.  II.  P. 

CORRECTIONS  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS, 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Your  correspondent  in  his  account  of 
"Clack  Fall  Fair,"  p.  1371,  has  fallen 
into  a  few  mistakes. 

Bradenstoke  was  not  an  abbey,  but  a 
priory. 

He  might  have  inquired  some  further 
particulars  of  the  Golden  Image,  said  to 
have  been  found.  In  whose  possession  it 
now  is  ?  It  is  believed  the  circumstance, 
if  true,  is  not  generally  known  in  the 
neighbourhood.  Query,  the  name  of  the 
Carpenter  ? 

The  idea  of  a  subterraneous  passage 
from  Bradenstoke  Priory  to  Malmsbury 
Abbey,  a  distance  of  eight  or  ten  miles, 
intersected  by  a  deep  valley,  through 
which  the  Avon  meanders,  is  absurd,  ancJ 
can  only  be  conceived  as  one  of  the  wild 
traditions  derived  from  monkish  times. 

Can  your  correspondent  furnish  further 
particulars  of  the  horrible  story  of  the 
boy  murdered  by  his  schoolmaster,  when 
and  whom  ? 

His  account  of  "  Joe  Ody's"  exploits 
may  be  very  correct,  He  is  well  remem- 
bered by  the  elder  peasantry. 

It  is  presumed,  your  correspondent 
meant  to  say,  that  the  song  was  attributed 
to  Bowles  of  Bremhill,  not  Brinkivortk. 
The  Rev.  W.  -L.  Bowles  is  rector,  or 
vicar,  of  Bremhill,  about  five  or  six  miles 
from  Clack  Brinkworth,  about  the  same 
distance  in  the  opposite  direction. 

Your  correspondent  might  have  noticed 
the  mound  called  Clack  Mount.  Perhaps 
he  will  favour  you  with  further  recollec- 
tions of  the  localities  of  Clack,  and  its 
vicinity. 

The  remains  of  a  may-pole  are  visible 
at  Clack ;  but  the  pole  itself  is  believed 
not  to  be  remembered  by  any  person  now 
living,  or,  if  remembered,  by  very  oW 
persons  only. 

A  READER 


Dal  mail's  Dooir.c. 


•THE  EVERv.DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER. 


DECEMBER. 

While  I  have  a  home,  and  can  do  as  I  will. 
December  may  rage  over  ocean  and  hill, 
And  batter  my  door — as  he  does  once  a  yeac — 
I  laugh  at  his  storming,  and  give  him  good  cheer. 

Derry  down,  See. 

I've  a  trencher  and  cup,  and  something  to  ask 
A  friend  to  sit  down  to — and  thon  a  good  flask: 
The  best  of  all  methods,  to  make  Winter  smile. 
Is  living  as  I  do — in  old  English  style. 

Derry  down,  &c. 

Now— whoever  regards  a  comfortable  dreary  seaport  ;  nor  may  it  be  deemed  too 

fire,    in    an    old-fashioned  cottage,  as    a  intrusive,  perhaps,  to  mention,  that  the 

pleasant   sight,  will  be  pleased  by  this  artist  who  drew  and  engraved  it,  is  Mr. 

sketch,  as  a  cheerful  illustration  of  the  SAMUEL  WILLIAMS 


1587 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  1. 


1588 


In  this,  the  last,  month  of  the  year  "  the 
beautiful  Spring  is  almost  forgotten  in  the 
anticipation  of  that  which  is  to  come. 
The  bright  Summer  is  no  more  thought 
of,  than  is  the  glow  of  the  morning  sun- 
shine at  night-fall.  The  rich  Autumn 
only  just  lingers  on  the  memory,  as  the 
last  red  rays  of  its  evenings  do  when  they 
have  but  just  quitted  the  eye.  And 
Winter  is  once  more  closing  its  cloud- 
canopy  over  all  things,  and  breathing 
forth  that  sleep-compelling  breath  which 
is  to  wrap  all  in  a  temporary  oblivion, 
no  less  essential  to  their  healthful  existence 
than  is  the  active  vitality  which  it  for  a 
while  supersedes."  Yet  among  the  ge- 
neral appearances  of  nature  there  are  still 
many  lively  spots  and  cheering  aspects. 
"  The  furze  flings  out  its  bright  yellow 
flowers  upon  the  otherwise  bare  common, 
like  little  gleams  of  sunshine;  and  the 
moles  ply  their  mischievous  night-work 
in  the  dry  meadows;  and  the  green 
plover  l  whistles  o'er  the  lea;'  and  the 
snipes  haunt  the  marshy  grounds ;  and  the 
wagtails  twinkle  about  near  the  spring- 
heads; and  the  larks  get  together  in 
companies,  and  talk  to  each  other,  instead 
of  singing  to  themselves  ;  and  the  thrush 
occasionally  puts  forth  a  plaintive  note, 
as  if  half  afraid  of  the  sound  of  his  own 
voice ;  and  the  hedge-sparrow  and  tit- 
mouse try  to  sing ;  and  the  robin  does 
sing  still,  even  more  delightfully  than  he 
has  done  during  all  the  rest  of  the  year, 
because  it  now  seems  as  if  he  sang  for  us 
rather  than  for  himself— or  rather  to  us, 
for  it  is  still  for  his  supper  that  he  sings, 
and  therefore  for  himself."* 


The  "  Poetical  Calendar"  offers  a  little 
poem  with  some  lines  descriptive  of  the 
month,  which  are  pleasant  to  read  within 
doors,  while  "  rude  Boreas"  is  blustering 
without : — 

DECEMBER. 

Last  of  the  months,  severest  of  them  all, 
Woe  to  the  regions  where  thy  terrors  fall ! 
For  lo !  the  fiery  horses  of  the  sun 
Thro'  the  twelve  signs  their  rapid  course  have 

run, 

Time,  like  a  serpent,  bites  his  forked  tail, 
And  Winter  on  a  goat  bestrides  the  gale  ; 
Rough  blows  the  north  wind  near  Arcturus* 

star, 
And  sweeps,  unrein'd,  across  the  polar  bar, 


Mirror  of  the  Months. 


On  the  world's  confines  where  the  sea  bears 

prowl, 
And  Greenland  whales,  like  moving  islands, 

,    roll  : 
There,  on  a  sledge,  the  rein-deer  drives  the 

swain 

To  meet  his  mistress  on  the  frost-bound  plain. 
Have  mercy,  Winter! — for  we  own  thy  power, 
Thy  flooding  deluge,  and  thy  drenching 

shower  ; 

Yes — we  acknowledge  what  thy  prowess  can, 
But  oh  !  have  pity  on  the  toil  of  man  ! 
And,  thp'  the  floods  thy  adamantine  chain 
Submissive    wear — yet    spare    the    treasar'd 

grain  : 

The  peasants  to  thy  mercy  now  resign 
The  infant  seed — their  hope,  and  future  mine. 
Not  always  Pho3bus  bends  his  vengeful  bow, 
Oft  in  mid  winter  placid  breezes  blow ; 
Oft  tinctur'd  with  the  bluest  transmarine 
The  fretted  canopy  of  heaven  is  seen  ; 
Girded  with  argent  lamps,  the  full-orb  d  moon 
In  mild  December  emulates  the  noon ; 
Tho'  short  the  respite,  if  the  sapphire  blue 
Stain  the  bright  lustre  with  an  inky  hue  ; 
Then  a  black  wreck  of  clouds  is  seen  to  fly, 
In  broken  shatters,  thro'  the  frighted  sky  : 
But  if  fleet  Eurus  scour  the  vaulted  plain, 
Then  all  the  stars  propitious  shine  again. 


fflmmfar  l 

OBESITY. 

Mr.  Edward  Bright,  of  Maldon,  in  the 
county  of  Essex,  who  died  at  twenty-nine 
years  of  age,  was  an  eminent  shopkeeper 
of  that  town,  and  supposed  to  be,  at  that 
time,  the  largest  man  living,  or  that  had 
ever  lived  in  this  island.  He  weighed 
six  hundred,  one  quarter,  and  twenty-one 
pounds ;  and  stood  about  five  feet  nine 
inches  high ;  his  body  was  of  an  astonishing 
bulk,  and  his  legs  were  as  large  as  a 
middling  man's  body.  Though  of  so 
great  a  weight  and  bulk,  he  was  sur- 
prisingly active. 

After  Bright's  death,  a  wager  was  pro- 
posed between  Mr.  Codd  and  Mr.  Hants, 
of  Maldon,  that  five  men  at  the  age  of 
twenty-one,  then  resident  there,  could  not 
be  buttoned  within  his  waistcoat  without 
breaking  a  stitch  or  straining  a  button. 
On  the  1st  of  December,  1750,  the  wager 
was  decided  at  the  house  of  the  widow 
Day,  the  Black  Bull  in  Maldon,  when 
five  men  and  two  more  were  buttoned 
within  the  waistcoat  of  the  great  personage 
deceased.  There  is  a  half-sheet  print, 
published  at  the  time,  representing  the 


1589 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  2. 


1590 


buttoning  up  of  the  seven  persons,  with 
an  inscription  beneath,  to  the  above 
effect. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  .....  41  '  10. 

Bmmber  2. 

WINTER. 

Winter  may  be  now  considered  as  hav- 
ing set  in ;  and  ^e  have  often  violent 
winds  about  this  time,  which  sweep  off 
the  few  ramaining  leaves  from  the  trees, 
and,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  oaks  and 
beeches,  leave  the  woods  and  forests 
nothing  but  a  naked  assemblage  of  bare 
boughs.  December,  thus  robbing  the 
woods  of  their  leafy  honours,  is  alluded 
to  by  Horace,  in  his  Epod.  xi.:— ^ 

Hie  tertius  December,  ex  quo  desti 
Inachia  furere, 

Sylvis  honorem  decutit. 
Picture  to  yourself,  gentle  reader,  one  of 
these  blustering  nights,  when  a  tremen- 
dous gale  from  south-west,  with  rattling 
rain,  threatens  almost  the  demolition  of 
every  thing  in  its  way  :  but  add  to  the 
scene  the  inside  of  a  snug  and  secure 
cottage  in  the  country, — the  day  closed, 
the  fir*»  made  up  and  blazing,  the  curtains 
drawn  over  a  barricadoing  of  window- 


shutters  which  defy  the  penetration  of 
jEolus  and  all  his  excarcerated  host ;'  the 
table  set  for  tea,  and  the  hissing  urn  or 
the  kettle  scarce  heard  among  the  fierce 
whistling,  howling,  and  roaring,  produced 
alternately  or  together,  by  almost  every 
species  of  sound  that  wind  can  produce, 
in  the  chimneys  and  door  crannies  of  the 
house.  There  is  a  feeling  of  comfort,  and 
a  sensibility  to  the  blessings  of  a  good 
roof  over  one's  head,  and  a  warm  and 
comfortable  hearth,  while  all  is  tempest 
without,  that  produces  a  peculiar  but  real 
source  of  pleasure.  A  cheerful  but  quiet 
party  adds,  in  no  small  degree,  to  this 
pleasure.  Two  or  three  intelligent  friends 
sitting  up  over  a  good  fire  to  a  late  hour, 
and  interchanging  their  thoughts  on  a 
thousand  subjects  of  mystery, — the  stories 
of  ghosts — and  the  tales  of  olden  times, — 
may  perhaps  beguile  the  hours  of  such  a 
stormy  night  like  this,  with  more  satisfac- 
tion than  they  could  a  midsummer  even- 
ing under  the  shade  of  trees  in  a  garden  of 
roses  and  lilies.  And  then,  when  we 
retire  to  bed  in  a  room  with  thick,  woollen 
curtains  closely  drawn,  and  a  fire  in  the 
room,  how  sweet  a  lullaby  is  the  piping 
of  the  gale  down  the  flues,  and  the  pepper- 
ing of  the  rain  on  the  tiles  and  windows  ; 
while  we  are  now  and  then  rocked  in  the 
house  as  if  in  a  cradle  !* 


For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
DECEMBER  MUSINGS. 

SONNET  STANZAS. 
-arvtotruv  rnv  v%t>i  orgoirxvvii.     PYTHAGORAS 

Quam  juvat  immites  ventos  audire  cubantem — 
jful,  gelidas  hybernus  aquas  cumfuderit  auster, 

Securem  somnos,  imbre  juvante,  sequi  !       TIBU LI-US . 

I  love  to  hear  the  high  winds  pipe  aloud, 

When  'gainst  the  leafy  nations  up  in  arms ; 
New  screaming  in  their  rage,  now  shouting,  proud — 

Then  moaning,  as  in  pain  at  war's  alarms : 
Then  softly  sobbing  to  unquiet  rest, 

Then  wildly,  harshly,  breaking  forth  again 
As  if  in  scorn  at  having  been  represt, 

With  marching  sweep  careering  o'er  the  plain 
And,  oh !  I  love  to  hear  the  gusty  shower 

Against  my  humble  casement,  pattering  fast, 
While  shakes  the  portal  of  my  quiet  bower ; 
For  then  I  envy  not  the  noble's  tower, 

Nor,  while  my  cot  thus  braves  the  storm  and  bla^V 

Wish  I  the  tumult  of  the  heavens  past. 


*  Perennial  Calendar,  Dec.  2. 


THE  EVKltY-DAY  HOOK.-DKCEMIIEK   ::. 


1502 


Yet  wliercfore  joy  I  in  the  loiul  uproar 

Does  still  life  cloy?  has  peace  no  charms  for  me? 
Pleases  calm  nook  and  ancient  home  no  more, 

Hut  do  I  long  for  wild  variety  ? 
Ah  !  no; — the  noise  of  elements  at  jar, 

That  bids  the  slumbers  of  the  worldling  close, 
Lone  nature's  child  does  not  thy  visions  mar, 

It  does  but  soothe  thee  to  more  sure  repose ! 
I  sigh  not  for  variety  nor  power, 

My  cot,  like  castled  hall,  can  brave  the  storm  ; 
Therefore  I  joy  to  list  the  sweepy  shower, 

And  piping  winds,  at  home,  secure  and  warm  : 
While  soft  to  heaven  my  orisons  are  sent, 
In  grateful  thanks  for  its  best  boon,  CONTENT  ! 


W.  T.  M .• 


THE  SI-AM >N. 

The  gloominess  of  the  weather,  and  its 
frequently  fatal  influence  on  the  mind, 
suggest  the  expediency  of  inserting  the 
following : — 

DISSUASIONS  FROM  DESPONDENCY. 

1.  If  you   are   distressed    in  mind,  live ; 
serenity  and  joy  may  yet  dawn  upon 
your  soul. 

2.  If  you  have  been  contented  and  cheer- 
ful,  fin-  f    and    generally   diffuse   that 
happiness  to  others. 

3.  If  misfortunes  have  befallen  you  by 
your  own    misconduct,  live ;    and  be 
wiser  for  the  future. 

4.  If  things  have   befallen   you   by   the 
faults  of  others,  live  ;  you  have  nothing 
wherewith  to  reproach  yourself. 

5.  If  you  are  indigent  and  helpless,  live  ; 
the  face  of  things  may  agreeably  change. 

6.  If vour  are  rich  and  prosperous,  live ; 
and  enjoy  what  you  possess. 

7.  If  another  hath  injured  you,  live;  his 
own  crime  will  be  his  punishment. 

8.  If  you  have  injured  another,  live  ;  and 
recompence  it  by  your  good  offices. 

0.  If  your  character  be  attacked  unjustly, 
live ;  time  will  remove  the  aspersion. 

10.  If  the  reproaches  are  well  founded, 
live;    and  deserve   them   not  for  the 
future. 

11.  If  you  are  already  eminent  and  ap- 
plauded, live  i  and  preserve  the  honours 

ou  have  acquired. 

12.  If  your  success  is  not  equal  to  your 


merit,  live ;   in   the  consciousness  of 
having  deserved  it. 

13.  If  your  success  hath  exceeded  your 
merit,  live ;  and  arrogate  not  too  much 
to  yourself. 

14.  If  you  have  been  negligent  and  useless 
to  society,  live ;  and  make  amends  by 
your  future  conduct. 

15.  If  you  have  been  active  and  indus- 
trious,  live;    and   communicate   your 
improvements  to  others. 

16.  If  you  have  spiteful  enemies,  live; 
and  disappoint  their  malevolence. 

17.  If  you  nave  kind  and  faithful  friends, 
live  i  to  protect  them. 

18.  If  hitherto   you   have  been  impious 
and  wicked,  live  ;  and  repent  of  your 
sins. 

19.  If  you  have  been  wise  and  virtuous* 
live  i  for  the  future  benefit  of  mankind. 
—And  lastly, 

20.  If  you  hope  for   immortality,   live ; 
and  prepare  to  enjoy  it. 

These  "  DISSUASIONS  "  are  ascribed  to 
the  pen  of  a  popular  and  amiable  poet. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature     ....  40  •  17. 

Dcrtmbtr  3. 

1826.    Advent  Sunday. 

CHIIONOLOOY. 
On  the  3rd  of  December,  1729,  died  a. 


•  These  M.m/.,,  arc  very  little  more  than  an  amplification  of  the  well  known  lines  of  Lucretiiu, 
Suave  mart  martin  turbantihut  ./•./«,.<•</  vtntu, 
/•;  tcrrd  magnum  ultrriut  upcrtarc  labor  em. 

Cicero  tiki  exprmod  the  same  ieniime.nl  in  his  ••  I)e  Natural"  vc«  ulso  lord  Bacon  and  Koclirfnurau. 
ftrnongst  the  ni<»kms.  W.  T.  M 


1593 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  4. 


Paris,  John  Hardouin,  a  learned  Jesuit, 
especially  celebrated  for  his  condemnation 
of  the  writings  of  almost  all  the  Greek 
and  Latin  authors  as  forgeries  in  the  mid- 
dle ages.  He  supposed  that  all  history, 
philosophy,  science,  and  even  divinity, 
before  the  middle  of  the  XlVth  century, 
had  been  forged  in  the  abbies  of  Ger- 
many, France,  and  Italy,  by  a  set  of 
monks,  who  availed  themselves  of  the 
taking  of  Constantinople  by  the  French 
in  1203,  its  recovery  by  the  Greeks  126J, 
and  the  expedition  of  St.  Louis  to  the 
Holy  Land,  to  make  the  world  believe 
that  the  writings  of  the  Greeks  and  Ro- 
mans were  then  first  discovered,  and 
brought  into  the  west :  whereas  they  had 
been  compiling  them  in  their  cells, 
and  burying  them  in  their  libraries,  for 
their  successors  to  draw  forth  to  light. 
Though  he  was  ably  refuted  by  Le  Clerc 
and  other  distinguished  writers,  and  re- 
canted his  opinions,  in  consequence  of  the 
superiors  of  his  church  proscribing  his 
works,  yet  he  repeated  these  absurd  no- 
tions in  subsequent  publications.* 

WATURALISTS'    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  40  •  62. 

Becrmbtr  4. 

THE  WALKIHO  POST. 
In  December,  1808,  was  living  William 
Brockbank,  whose  daily  pedestrian 
achievements  occasioned  public  notice  of 
him  to  the  following  effect.  He  was  the 
Walking  Post  from  Manchester  to  Glos- 
sop,  in  Derbyshire,  a  distance  of  sixteen 
miles,  which  he  performed  every  day,  Sun- 
days excepted  ;  returned  the  same  even- 
ing, and  personally  delivered  the  letters, 
newspapers,  &c.  in  that  populous  and 
commercial  country,  to  all  near  the  road, 
which  made  his  daily  task  not  less  than 
thirty-five  miles,  or  upwards.  What  is 
more  extraordinary,  be 

«  This  daily  course  of  duty  waUtf* 

in  less  than  twelve  hours  a  day,  and  never 
varied  a  quarter  of  an  hour  from  his 
usual  time  of  arriving  at  Glossop. 

Brockbank  was  a  native  of  Millom,  in 
Cumberland,  and  had  daily  walked  the 
distance  between  Whitehaven  and  Ulver- 
stone,  frequently  under  the  necessity  of 
wadmg  the  river  at  Muncaster,  by  which 
place  he  constantly  went,  which  is  at 
least  three  miles  round.  Including  the 


different  calls  he  had  to  make  at  a 
short  distance  from  the  road,  his  daily 
task  was  not  less  than  forty-seven  miles.* 

THE  WEATHFE. 

Now  is  the  time  when,  in  some  parts  of 
England,  a  person  of  great  note  formerly, 
in  every  populous  place,  was  accustomed 
to  make  frequent  nocturnal  rambles,  and 
proclaim  all  tidings  which  it  seemed  fit- 
ting to  him  that  people  should  be  awaken- 
ed out  of  their  sleep  to  barken  to.  For 
the  use  of  this  personage,  "  the  Bell-man,n 
there  is  a  book,  now  almost  obsolete  as 
regards  its  use,  with  this  title  explanatory  of 
its  purpose,—"  The  Bell-man's  Treasury, 
containing  above  a  Hundred  several  Verse* 
fitted  for  all  Humours  and  Fancies,  and 
suited  to  all  times  and  seasons/'  London, 
1707,  8vo.  From  the  riches  of  this 
"treasury,"  whence  the  predecessors  of 
the  present  parish  Bell-man  took  so  much, 
a  little  may  be  extracted  for  the  reader's 
information .  First  then,  if  the  noisy  rogue 
were  thereunto  moved  by  a  good  and 
valuable  consideration,  we  find,  according 
to  the  aforesaid  work,  and  the  present 
season,  that  we  ought  to  be  informed,  by 
sound  of  bell,  and  public  proclamtaion, 

Upon  a  Windy  Night. 

Now  ships  are  tost  upon  the  angry  main, 
And  Boreas  boasts  his  uncontrolled  reign : 
The  strongest  winds  their  breath  and  vigour 

prove, 
And  through  the  air  th'  increasing  mormon 

•bore. 
Think,    you  that  sleep   secure   between    the 

sheets, 
What  skies  your  Bell-man  tempts,  what  d  angers 


Then,  again,  according  to  the  book  of 
forms,  be  is  instructed  to  agitate  us  with 
the  following 

Upon  a  Star-light  Night. 

Were  I  a  conjurer,  such  nighU  as  these 

I'd  choose  to  calculate  nativities ; 

For  every  star  to  that  degree  prevails, 

One  might  e'en  count,  and  then  torn  op  their 

tails. 
This  nigbt  will  Flamttead,  and  the  Moorfield*' 

Such  knowledge  gain,  they'll  seldom  tell  a 
ly«. 

As  an  amplification  of  the  common  cry 
of  watchmen,  may  be  produced  the  an- 
cient  Bell-man's. 


•  Gemleman't  Magazine. 


•  Sporting  Magazine 


1595 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  3. 


Upon  a  Night  of  all  Weathers. 

This    night,    so    different    is    the    changing 

weather, 

Boisterous  or  calm,  I  cannot  tell  you  whether 
'Tis  either  fair  or  foul ;  but,  altogether^ 
Just  as  to  cry  a  star-light  night  I  study, 
Immediately  the  air  grows  dark  and  cloudy : 
In  short,  the  temper  of  the  skies,  if  any, 
Is  all,  and  nature  makes  a  miscellany. 

MEN  IN  THE  MOON. 
A  few  years  ago,  professor  Gruithausen, 
of  Munich,  wrote  an  essay  to  show  that 
there  are  many  plain  indications  of  in- 
habitants in  the  moon.  In  answer  to  cer- 
tain questions,  the  "  Munich  Gazette"  com- 
municates some  remarkable  results,  deriv- 
ed from  a  great  number  of  observations— 

1.  In  what  latitude  in  the  moon  are 
there  indications  of  vegetation  ? 

2.  How   far  are  there    indications    of 
animated  beings? 

3.  Where  are  the  greatest  and  plainest 
traces  of  art  on  the  surface  of  the  moon  ? 

With  respect  to  the  first  question,  it 
appears  from  the  observations  of  Schroter 
and  Gruithausen,  that  the  vegetation  on 
the  moon's  surface  extends  to  fifty-five 
south  latitude,  and  sixty-five  north  lati- 
tude. Many  hundred  observations 
show,  in  the  different  colours  and  monthly 
changes,  three  kinds  of  phenomena  which 
cannot  possibly  be  explained,  except  by 
the  process  of  vegetation. 

To  the  second  question  it  is  answered, 
that  the  indications  from  which  the  exist- 
ence of  living  beings  is  inferred,  are  found 
from  fifty  north  latitude,  to  thirty-seven, 
and  perhaps  forty-seven,  south  latitude. 

The  answer  to  the  third  question,  points 
out  the  places  on  the  moon's  surface  in 
which  are  appearances  of  artificial  causes 
altering  the  surface.  The  author  ex- 
amines the  appearances  that  induce  him 
to  infer  that  there  are  artificial  roads  in 
various  directions;  and  he  describes  a 
colossal  edifice,  resembling  our  cities,  on 
the  most  fertile  part  near  the  moon's  equa- 
tor, standing  accurately  according  to  the 
four  cardinal  points.  The  main  cities  are 
in  angles  of  forty-five  degrees  and  ninety 
degrees.  A  building  resembling  what  is 
called  a  star-redoubt,  the  professor  pre- 


sumes to  be  dedicated  to  religious  pur- 
poses, and  as  they  can  see  no  stars  in  the 
daytime  (their  atmosphere  being  so  pure) 
he  thinks  that  they  worship  the  stars,  and 
consider  the  earth  as  a  natural  clock. 
His  essay  is  accompanied  by  plates 

The  sombre  sadness  of  the  evening  shades 
Steal  slowly  o'er  the  wild  sequester' d  glen, 
And  seem  to  make  its  loneliness  more  lonely—- 
In ages  past,  nature  was  here  convuls'd, 
And,  with  a  sudden  and  terrific  crash, 
Asunder  rent  the  adamantine  hills — 
Now,  as  exhausted  with  the  pond'rous  work, 
She  lies  extended  in  a  deathful  trance — 
The  mountains  form  her  couch  magnificent ; 
Heaven's  glittering  arch  her  canopy  ; 
The  snows  made  paler  by  the  rising  moon, 
Her  gorgeous  winding  sheet ;   and  the  dark 

rocks 

That  cast  deep  shadows  on  the  expanse  below; 
The  sable  'scutcheon  of  the  mighty  dead — 
The  roar  of  waters,  and  the  north  wind's  moan 
Give  music  meet  for  her  funereal  dirge. 

Yon  giant  crag,  the  offspring  of  her  throes, 
Has  rear'd  his  towering  bulk  a  thousand  years, 
Grown  hoary  in  the  war  of  elements, 
And  still  defies  the  thunder,  and  the  storm 
But  in  his  summer  pride,  his  stately  form 
Is  mantled  o'er  with  purple,  green,  and  gold, 
And  his  huge  head  is  garlanded  with  flowers . 

PENNY  LOTTERIES   AT  BROUGH,  WF.ST- 
MORELAND. 

About  this  time,  when  gardens  look  in  a 
dormant  state,  there  are  frequently  Penny 
Lotteries  in  the  north  of  England ;  and 
very  often  a  whole  garden  is  purchased  for 
one  penny.  There  are  sometimes  twenty 
tickets  or  more,  as  the  case  may  be,  all 
written  on  them  "  blank,"  save  "  the 
prize"  These  are  put  into  a  hat,  and  a 
boy  stands  on  a  form  or  chair  holding  the 
hat  on  his  head,  while  those  who  have 
bought  a  ticket  ascend  the  form  alternate- 
ly, "  one  by  one,"  and,  shutting  their  eyes, 
take  a  ticket,  which  is  opened  by  a  boy 
who  is  at  the  bottom  for  that  purpose. 
The  tickets  are  only  a  penny  each,  and 
sometimes  a  garden  (worth  a  few  shillings) 
or  whatever  the  sale  may  be,  is  bought 
for  so  trifling  a  sum. 

W.  H.  H. 


For  the  Every-Day  Book. 
SONNET  TO  WINTER. 

WINTER  !   though  all  thy  hours  are  drear  and  chill, 
Yet  Imst  thou  one  that  welcome  is  to  me 


1597  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  5. 

Ah  !  'tis  when  daylight  fades,  and  noise  'gins  still, 

And  we  afar  can  faintly  darkness  see;* 
When,  as  it  seems  too  soon  to  shut  out  day 
And  thought,  with  the  intrusive  taper's  ray, 
We  trim  the  fire,  the  half-read  book  resign, 
And  in  our  easy  chairs  at  ease  recline , 
Gaze  on  the  deepening  sky,  in  thoughtful  fit 
Clinging  to  light,  as  loath  to  part  with  it 

Then,  half  asleep,  life  seems  to  us  a  dream, — 
And  magic,  all  the  antic  shapes,  that  gleam 
Upon  the  walls,  by  the  fire's  flickerings  made; 
And,  oft  we  start,  surpris'd  but  not  dismay'd. 

Ah !  when  life  fades,  and  death's  dark  hour  draws  near, 
May  we  as  timely  muse,  and  be  as  void  of  fear! 


15S3 


W.T.  M 


KATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature.  .  .   39-90. 


5. 


ST.  NICHOLAS'  EVE. 

The  versifier  of  ancient  customs,  Nao 
georgus,  relates  through   the-  English  of 
his  translator,  Barnaby  Googe,  a  curious 
practice  on  the_vigil  of  this  festival  :  —  • 

Saint  Nicholas  money  usde  to  give  to  maydens 

secretlie, 
Who,  that  he  still  may  use  his  woonted  libe- 

ralitie, 
The  mothers  all  their  children  on  the  Eeve 

doe  cause  to  fast, 
And  when  they  every  one  at  night  in  sense- 

lesse  sleepe  are  cast, 
Both  Apples,  Nuttes,  and  Peares  they  bring, 

and  other  things  beside, 
As   caps,  and  shcoes,   and  petticotes,  which 

secretly  they  hide, 
And  in  the  morning  found,  they   say,    that 

this  saint  Nicholas  brought  : 
Thus   tender  mindes  to   worship  saints  and 

wicked  things  are  taught. 

A  festival  or  ceremony  called  Zopata, 
from  a  Spanish  word  signifying  a  shoe, 
prevails  in  Italy  in  the  courts  of  certain 
princes  on  St.  Nicholas'  day.  Persons 
hide  presents  in  the  shoes  and  slippers  of 
those  they  do  honour  to,  in  such  manner 
as  may  surprise  them  on  the  morrow 
when  they  come  to  dress.  This  is  said 
to  be  done  in  imitation  of  the  practice  of 


St.  Nicholas,  who  used  in  the  night  time 
to  throw  purses  in  at  the  windows  of  poor 
maids,  for  their  marriage  portions  .f 

Mr.  Brady  says,  that  «'  St.  Nicholas 
was  likewise  venerated  as  the  protector 
of  virgins ;  and  that  there  are,  or  were 
until  lately,  numerous  fantastical  customs 
observed  in  Italy  and  various  parts  of 
France,  in  reference  to  that  peculiar  tute- 
lary patronage.  In  several  convents  it 
was  customary,  on  the  eve  of  St.  Nicholas, 
for  the  boarder  to  place  each  a  silk  stock- 
ing at  the  door  of  the  apartment  of  the 
abbess,  with  a  piece  of  paper  enclosed, 
recommending  themselves  to  l  great  St. 
Nicholas  of  her  chamber  :'  and  the  next 
day  they  were  called  together  to  witness 
the  saint's  attention,  who  never  failed  to 
fill  the  stockings  with  sweetmeats,  and 
other  trifles  of  that  kind,  with  which  these 
credulous  virgins  made  a  general  feast."J 

PIG-ALLS. 

A  correspondent  remarks,  that  it  is  now 
customary  for  boys  to  take  their  pigs  by 
the  hedgeways  in  the  country  to  feed  upon 
the  l  haws,'  which  in  the  west  are  called 
pegalls,  or  pigalls.  The  boys  go  foremost 
with  long  poles,  and  beat  the  hedges, 
while  the  swine,  after  hearing  where  they 
fall,  work  most  industriously  for  their 
provender  till  dusk,  when  they  are  driven 
home  till  daylight. 


*  Darkness  visible. -Milton. 

t  Brand. 

t  Brady's  Clavis  Calendam. 


1599 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.--DEC EMBER  6. 


1600 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  40  ,  70. 


JBmmher  6. 

ST.  NICHOLAS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir,— In  your  fiftieth  number,  p.  1566, 
under  the  he-id 

"  St.  Nicholas  in  Russia," 

you  give  a  very  correct  account  of  the 
festivities  which  usually  enliven  the  5th 
December  in  Holland,  but  not  a  word  of 
Russia.  It  appears  you  have  mistaken 
the  situation  of  Leeuwarden,  which  is  not 
a  Russian,  but  a  Dutch  town.  Friesland 
was  one  of  the  Seven  United  Provinces. 
Perhaps  you  may  think  it  worth  while  to 
correct  this  error. 

N.  N. 

December  18,  1825. 


"  At  the  Est  ende  of  the  Chirche  of 
Bethlem  ys  a  cave  in  the  grounde  wher 
sumtyme  stod  a  Chirche  of  Seynt  Nicho- 
las. In  the  same  cave  entred  ower  blys- 
sid  lady  with  hyr  Sone,  and  hyd  hyr  for 
ffer  of  Kyng  Herrod.  The  gronde  ys 
good  for  Norces  that  lake  mylk  for  ther 
Ch-ldern."* 


On  the  6th  of  December  1826  The 
Times  newspaper  contained  the  subjoined 
article : — 

M.  BOCHSA. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  the 
French  Moniteur  of  Thursday,  February 
19,  1818:— 

COURT  OF  ASSIZE  AT  PARIS. 

SITTING  OF  FEB.  17. 
CASE   OP  THE   COMPOSER   BOCHSA. 

The  Court  condemned,  in  contumacy, 
Nicholas  Bochsa,  composer  of  music  and 
harp-player,  whose  disappearance  about 
a  year  ago,  it  will  be  recollected,  made  so 
scandalous  a  noise.  He  was  accused — 


*  From  the  MS.  Diary  of  sir  Richard  Torkington, 
u  .ted  in  Mr.  Fosbroie's  "  British  Monachism," 
SI,  from  the  "Gentleman's  Magazine"  1812. 


1.  Of  having,  on  the  26th  of  last  Sep- 
tember,  committed  the  crime  of  private 
forgery,  by  counterfeiting,  or  causing  to 
be  counterfeited,  a  bond  for  four  thousand 
francs,  and  by  signing  it  with  the   forged 
signatures,   Berton,  Mehul,  Nicolo,  and 
Boyeldieu. 

2.  Of  having,  on  the  13th  of  October, 

1816,  committed    a   private  forgery,  by 
counterfeiting  a  resolution  and  receipt  of 
the  committee  of  the  shareholders  of  the 
theatre   Feydeau,  and    by  signing  them 
with  the  forged  signature  Rezicourt. 

3.  Of  having,  on  the  20th  of  January, 

1817,  committed   a  private   forgery,  by 
counterfeiting  a  resolution  of  the  share- 
holders of  the  theatre  Feydeau,  with  the 
same  forged  signature. 

4.  Of  having,  on    the  1st  of  March, 
1817,  committted  a  commercial  forgery, 
by  fabricating  a  bill  of  exchange  for  16,500 
francs,  and  signing  it  with  the  forged  sig- 
natures, Despermont,   Perregaux,  Lafitte 
and  Company,  and  Berton. 

5.  Of  having,  on   the   9th  of  March, 
1817,  committed   a  private    forgery,   by 
counterfeiting  an  invoice  of  musical  in- 
struments, and  a  bond  for  14,000  francs, 
and  signing  them  with  the  forged  signa- 
ture of  Pozzo  di  Borgo. 

6.  Of  having,  on  the  llth  of  March, 
1817,   committed   the   crime    of  private 
forgery,  by  fabricating  three   bonds   for 
different  sums,  and  signing  them  with  the 
forged   signatures,  Count  Chabrol,    and 
Finquerlin. 

7.  Of  having,  on  the  llth  of  March, 
1817,  committed  a  private   forgery,   by 
fabricating   two   bonds,  one   for   10,000 
francs,  the  other  for  5,000  francs,  upon 
the  funds  of  the  English  legation,  and  by 
signing  them  with  the  forged  signatures, 
Stuart,  Amaury,  and  Wells. 

8.  Of  having  knowingly  made  use  of 
all  these  forged  documents. 

Besides  these  forgeries,  Bochsa  appears 
to  have  fabricated  many  others,  particu- 
larly bonds  bearing  the  forged  signatures 
of  M.  le  Comte  De  Gazes,  and  of  Lord 
Wellington. 

The  Court  pronounced  him  guilty  of 
all  these  private  and  commercial  forgeries, 
and  condemned  him  to  twelve  years  of 
forced  labour,  to  be  branded  with  the 
letters  T.  F.,  to  be  fined  4,000  francs,  &c 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ....  41  .  10. 


1601 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  6. 


THE  BOY  BISHOP. 

.In  addition  to  the  particulars  respect- 
ing the  institution  of  a  child  to  "  the 
office  and  work  of  a  bishop,"  in  the  Ro- 
mish church,  on  St.  Nicholas's  day,  the  fol- 
lowing is  extracted  from  the  English  an* 
nals. — "  The  Boy  bishop,  or  St.  Nicholas, 
was  commonly  one  of  the  choristers,  and 
therefore  in  the  old  offices  was  called 
Episcopus  Choristarwn,  Bishop  of  the 
Choristers,  and  was  chosen  by  the  rest  to 
this  honour.  But  afterward  there  were 
many  St.  Nicholases  :  and  every  parish, 
almost,  had  its  St.  Nicholas.  And  from 
this  St.  Nicolas's  day  to  Innocents'  day 
at  night,  this  boy  bore  the  name  of  a 


bishop,  and  the  state  and  habit  too, 
wearing  the  mitre  and  the  pastoral  staff', 
and  the  rest  of  the  pontifical  attire  ;  nay, 
and  reading  the  holy  offices.  While  he 
went  his  procession,  he  was  much  feasted 
and  treated  by  the  people,  as  it  seemss 
much  valuing  his  blessing;  which  made 
the  people  so  fond  of  keeping  this  holy- 
day."* 

It  appears  from  the  register  of  the  ca- 
pitulary acts  of  York  cathedral,  that  the 
Boy  Bishop  there  was  to  be  handsome  and 
elegantly  shaped  .f 


*  Strype's  "  Memorab.* 
t  Brand. 


He  lived  longer  than  men  who  were  stronger, 
And  was1  too  old  to  live  any  longer. 


On  the  6th  of  December,  1670,  died 
Henry  Jenkins,  aged  one  hundred  and 
sixty-nine  years. 

Jenkins  was  born  at  Bolton-upon- 
Swale  in  1500,  and  followed  the  employ- 
ment of  fishing  for  one  hundred  and  forty 
years.  When  about  eleven  or  twelve 
years  old,  he  was  sent  to  Northallerton, 
with  a  horse-load  of  arrows  for  the  battle 
of  Flodden-field,  with  which  a  bigger  boy 

Vol.  II.— 103. 


(all  the  men  being  employed  at  harvest, 
went  forward  to  the  army  under  the  ear! 
of  Surrey;  king  Henry  VIII.  being  at 
Tournay.  When  he  was  more  than  a 
hundred  years  old,  he  used  to  swim  across 
the  river  with  the  greatest  ease,  and  with- 
out catching  cold.  Being  summoned  to  a 
tithe  cause  at  York,  in  1667,  between  the 
vicar  of  Catterick  and  William  and  Peter 
Mawbank,  he  deposed,  that  the  tithes  of 


1603 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  6. 


1604 


wool,  lamb,  &c.  were  the  vicar's,  and  had 
been  paid,  to  his  knowledge,  one  hundred 
and  twenty  years  and  more.  And  in  ano- 
ther cause,  between  Mr.  Hawes  and  Mr. 
Wastel  of  Ellerton,  he  gave  evidence  to 
one  hundred  and  twenty  years.  Being 
born  before  parish  registers  were  kept, 
which  did  not  come  into  use  till  the  thirti- 
eth of  HenryVIII.,one  of  the  judges  asked 
him  what  memorable  battle  or  event  had 
happened  in  his  memory ;  to  which  he 
answered,  "  that  when  the  battle  of  Flod- 
den-field  was  fought,  where  the  Scots 
were  beat,  with  the  death  of  their  king, 
he  was  turned  of  twelve  years  of  age." 
Being  asked  how  he  lived,  he  said,  "  by 
thatching  and  salmon  fishing ;"  that  when 
he  was  served  with  a  subpoena,  he  was 
thatching  a  house,  and  would  dub  a  hook 
with  any  man  in  Yorkshire ;  that  he  had 
been  butler  to  lord  Conyers,  of  Hornby- 
castle,  and  that  Marmaduke  Brodelay, 
lord  abbot  of  Fountains,  did  frequently 
visit  his  lord,  and  drink  a  hearty  glass 
with  him  ;  that  his  lord  often  sent  him  to 
inquire  how  the  abbot  did,  who  always 
sent  for  him  to  his  lodgings,  and,  after 
ceremonies,  as  he  called  it,  passed,  or- 
dered him,  besides  wassel,  a  quarter  of  a 
yard  of  roast-beef  for  his  dinner,  (for  that 
monasteries  did  deliver  their  guests  meat 
by  measure,)  and  a  great  black  jack  of 
strong  drink.  Being  further  asked,  if  he 
remembered  the  dissolution  of  religious 
houses,  he  said,  "  Very  well ;  and  that  he 
was  between  thirty  and  forty  years  of  age 
when  the. order  came  to  dissolve  those  in 
Yorkshire ;  that  great  lamentation  was 
made,  and  the  country  all  in  a  tunyilt, 
when  the  monks  were  turned  out." 

In  the  same  parish  with  Jenkins,  there 
were  four  or  five  persons  reputed  a  cen- 
tury old,  who  all  said  he  was  an  elderly 
man  ever  since  they  knew  him.  Jenkins 
had  sworn  in  Chancery  and  other  courts 
to  above  a  hundred  and  forty  years*  me- 
mory. In  the  king's  remembrancer's 
office,  in  the  exchequer,  is  a  record  of  a 
deposition  taken,  1665,  at  Kettering,  in 
Yorkshire,  in  a  cause  "  Clark  and  Smirk- 
son,''  wherein  Henry  Jenkins,  of  Ellerton- 
upon-Swale,  labourer,  aged  157  years,  was 
produced  and  sworn  as  a  witness.  His 
diet  was  coarse  and  sour;  towards  the 
latter  end  of  .his  days  he  begged  up  and 
down. 

Born  when  the  Roman  catholic  religion 
was  established,  Jenkins  saw  the  supre- 
macy of  the  pope  overturned ;  the  disso- 
lution of  monasteries,  popery  re-estab- 


lished, and  at  last  the  protestant  religion 
securely  fixed  on  a  rock  of  adamant.  In 
his  time  the  invincible  armada  was  de- 
stroyed ;  the  republic  of  Holland  was 
formed  ;  three  queens  were  beheaded, 
Anne  Boleyn,  Catherine  Howard,  and 
Mary  queen  of  Scots  ;  a  king  of  Spain  was 
seated  upon  the  throne  of  England;  a 
king  of  Scotland  was  crowned  king  of 
England  at  Westminster,  and  his  son  and 
successor  was  beheaded  before  his  own 
palace;  lastly,  the  great  fire  in  Lon- 
don happened  in  1666,  at  the  latter  end 
of  his  wonderfully  long  life. 

Jenkins  could  neither  read  nor  write. 
He  died  at  Ellerton-upon-Swale,  and 
was  buried  in  Bolton  church-yard,  near 
Catterick  and  Richmond,  in  Yorkshire, 
where  a  small  pillar  was  erected  to  his 
memory,  and  this  epitaph,  composed  by 
Dr.  Thomas  Chapman,  master  of  Mag- 
dalen-college, Cambridge,  from  1746  to 
1760,  engraven  upon  a  monument  in 
Bolton  church. 

INSCRIPTION. 

Blush  not,  MARBLE  ! 

To  rescue  from  oblivion 

The  Memory  of 

HENRY    JENKINS; 

A  person  obscure  in  birth, 

But  of  a  life  truly  memorable  : 

For, 

He  was  enriched 

With  the  goods  of  Nature 

If  not  of  Fortune ; 

And  happy 
In   the   duration, 

If  not  variety, 

Of  his  enjoyments  : 

And,  tho'  the  partial  world 

Despised  and  disregarded 

His  low  and  humble  state, 

The  equal  eye  of  Providence 

Beheld  and  blessed  it, 
With  a  patriarch's  health,  and  length  of 

days : 
To  teach  mistaken  man, 

These  blessings 

Were  intail'd  on  temperance, 

A  life  of  labour,  and  a  mind  at  ease. 

He  liv'd  to  the  amazing  age  of 

169,  i 
Was  interr'd  here  December  6th, 

1670; 

And  had  this  justice  done  to  his  memory 
1743.* 


•  Gentleman's  Magazine,  1814.  IiucriptSon  beneath 
Worlidge'*  print. 


1605 


THE  EVEKY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  7. 


1606 


There  is  a  large  half  sheet  portrait  of 
Henry  Jenkins,  etched  by  Worlidge, 
rafter  an  original  painting  by  Walker,) 
from  whence  the  present  engraving  is 
copied,  and  there  is  a  mezzotiuto  of  him 
after  the  same  etching. 


Bmmter  7. 

OID  SIGHTS  OF  LONDON. 

In  December,  1751,  the  following 
"  Uncommon  Natural  Curiosities"  were 
exhibited  in  London. 

1.  A  Dwarf,  from  Glamorganshire,  in 
his  fifteenth  year,  two  feet  six  inches  high, 
wejghing  only  twelve  pounds,  yet    very 
proportionable. 

2.  John  Coan,  a  Norfolk  dwarf,  aged 
twenty-three ;   he  weighed,  with  all   his 
clothes,  but  thirty-four  pounds,  and  his 
height,  with  his  hat,  shoes,  and  wig  on, 
was  but  thirty-eight  inches  ;  his  body  was 
perfectly  straight,  he  was  of  a  good  com- 
plexion, and  sprightly  temper,  sung  tole- 
rably, and  mimicked  a  cock  s  crowing  very 
exactly.  A  child  three  years  eight  months 
old,  of  an  ordinary  size,  with  his  clothes 
on,   weighed  thirty-six  pounds,  and  his 
height,  without  any  thing  on  his  head, 
was    thirty-seven     inches     seven-tenths, 
which  on  comparison  gives  an  idea  of  ihe 
smallness  of  this  dwarf. 

3.  A  Negro,  who  by  a  most  extraor- 
dinary and  singular  dilatation  and  con- 
traction of  the  deltoid  and  biceps  muscles 
of  the  arm,  those  of  the  back,  &c.,  clasped 
his  hands  full  together,  threw  them  over 
his  head  and  back,  and  brought  them  in 
that  position  under  his  feet.     This  he  re- 
peated, backwards  or  forwards,  as  often 
as  the  spectators  desired,  with  the  greatest 
facility. 

4.  A  Female  Rhinoceros,  or  true  Uni- 
corn, a  beast  of  upwards  of  eight  •  thou- 
sand pounds  weight,  in  a  natural  coat  of 
mail  or  armour,  having  a  large  horn  on 
her  nose,  three  hoofs  on  each  foot,  and  a 
hide  stuck  thick  with  scales  pistol  proof, 
and  so  surprisingly  folded  as  not  to  hinder 
its  motion. 

5.  A    Crocodile,  alive,   taken    on  the 
banks  of  the  Nile  in  Egypt,  a  creature 
never  seen  before  alive  in  England* 

This  is   a  verbatim  account  of  these 


•  Gentleman'*  Magazine. 


sights  published  at  the  time ;  the  prices 
of  admission  are  not  mentioned,  but  they 
were  deemed  worthy  of  notice  as  remark- 
able exhibitions  at  the  period.  In  the 
present  day  the  whole  of  them  would 
scarcely  make  more  than  a  twopenny 
show;  and,  at  that  low  rate,  without  a 
captivating  showman,  they  would  scarcely 
attract.  London  streets  are  now  literally 
"  strewed  with  rarities,"  and  "  uncommon 
things,"  at  which  our  forefathers  stared 
with  wonder,  are  most  common. 


A  PARTICULAR  ARTICLE, 

"  A  READER,*'  at  p.  1584,  should  have 
had  "  Lyneham,  Wilts,"  as  the  place  of 
his  residence,  attached  to  his  remarks  on 
an  account  of  "  Clack  Fall  Fair,"  at  p. 
1371,  which  was  supplied  by  "an  old 
correspondent,"  with  whose  name  and 
address  the  editor  is  acquainted,  and 
whose  subjoined  communication  claims 
regard.  He  writes  in  explanation,  and 
adds  some  very  pleasant  particulars. 


CLACK  FALL  FAIR. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Dear  Sir, — I  cannot  allow  your  pages 
to  close  without  replying  to  the  "  Correc- 
tions and  Illustrations,"  p.  1584,  made  by 
**  A  Reader"  respecting  "  Clack  and  its 
vicinity. 

First.  I  observe  that  Bradenstoke 
priory  is  usually  called  the  "  Abbey,"  in 
the  neighbourhood, — not  the  "  Priory." 
There  is  a  tree  growing  upon  the  tower, 
and  a  legend  respecting  it.  I  was  once 
taken  up  to  see  it  blossom,  having  slept 
in  the  room  under  it  with  my  schoolfel- 
low, John  Bridges,  whose  mother,  at  that 
time  a  widow,  kept  the  farm,  and  a  most 
excellent  woman  she  was. 

Secondly.  I  should  have  considered  the 
stating,  "  that  a  carpenter,  while  digging, 
struck  his  spade  against  an  image  of  gold, 
and  has  it  in  his  possession,"  was  suffi- 
cient, without  further  inquiry  or  remark. 
I  repeat  the  fact  for  a  truth.  I  know  the 
man,  and  have  seen  the  IMAGE.  As  an 
antiquary  myself,  I  assure  you,  sir,  I  could 
fain  dig  for  similar  hidden  treasures  in  the 
hope  of  like  reward.  The  person  who 
owns  the  image  is  not  needy,  he  there- 
fore would  not  part  with  his  weight  of 
gold  for  more  sovereign  current  weight 


1007 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  7. 


1608 


Thirdly.  When  young,  I  descended 
several  feet  into  the  "  subterraneous  pas- 
sage" referred  to  by  your  "  Reader." 
Though  I  am  willing  to  admit  the  possi- 
bility of  monkish  imposition — such  a 
passage  has,  however,  been  believed  to 
have  existed  by  the  oldest  people  of  Clack. 
Similarly,  it  is  conjectured,  that  a  passage 
once  ran  from  Canonbury-tower,  Isling- 
ton, to  the  palace  Kensington.  Your 
"  Reader''  is  rather  too  sceptical  to  chal- 
lenge me  to  a  proof,  which  I  take  only  in 
a  topographical  sense.  Of  whatever  effect 
tradition  may  be,  much  historical  truth  is 
notwithstanding  embodied  in  it  :  further- 
more, it  is  well  known,  that  subterraneous  - 
passages  led  from  place  to  place,  when 
castle  building  was  in  vogue. 

Fourthly.  The  oldest  man  living  in 
Seagry,  at  the  time  I  was  shown  the  stone 
in  Malmsbury  abbey,  whose  name  was 
Carey,  was  the  occasion  of  my  going  to 
that  place  to  see  the  stone  :  I  paid  six- 
pence to  the  person  who  gave  me  a  view 
of  it.  He  represented  it  to  have  been 
done  by  "  Geoffry  Miles"—the  boy  was  a 
choirister:  this  is  his  informationj  not 
mine.  The  impression  ever  after  guarded 
my  conduct  in  school. 

Fifthly.  As  to  «  Joe  Ody,"  yoar 
"  Reader's"  own  words  prove  the  truth  of 
what  I  have  said  of  him,  and  the  "  may 
be  correct1'  is  not  called  for.  The  lord  chan- 
cellor could  not  have  been  more  doubtful 
than  your  anonymous  "  Reader,"  as  to  my 
information  and  communication.  Some 
of  the  Ody  family  are  now  residing  in 
Camberwell,  whither  your  "  Reader"  may 
resort,  should  he  be  desirous  of  learning 
more  of  Joe's  merry-andrewism,  who  was 
no  mean  disciple  of  the  rev.  Andrew,  his 
patron. 

Sixthly.  Your  "  Reader's"  hit  at 
"  Bowles"  is  corrected  by  me  at  the  page 
in  which  his  reference  stands.  Would 
that  the  "  Bowies'  controversy"  with  By- 
ron and  Roscoe,  respecting  Pope,  had 
been  as  easily  terminated,  and  with  as 
little  acrimony  and  as  much  satisfac- 
tion ! 

Seventhly.  The  room  I  have  already 
occupied  in  this  paper  prevents  my  stat- 
ing much  concerning  "  Clack  Mount;" — 
this  mount  is,  however,  remarkable  for 
two  things, — the  resort  of  bonfire  makers, 
November  5,  and  the  club  at  Whitsun- 
tide. At  the  time  of  the  ox-roasting 
many  years  since,  in  peaceful-ending 
times  and  rejoicing,  this  "  mount"  was  a 


scene  of  delight  and  festivity.  A  band  of 
music  resorted  thither,  a  line  was  formed 
as  on  club-day,  beer  was  given  round,  an£ 
the  collected  people  of  both  sexes,  young 
and  old,  joined  in  the  hilarious  jubilee  ; 
after  which  the  band,  graced  by  every 
pretty  girl,  paraded  to  the  priory,  and 
played  there  in  the  best  room.  Its  furni- 
ture, I  remember,  looked  clubbed,  dark, 
and  glossy ;  it  seemed,  to  me,  a  pity  to 
tiead  on  the  shining  floor,  it  was  so  an- 
tiquely neat  and  sacred.  Given  to  kissing, 
when  very  young,  I  shall  never  forget 
touching  the  rosy  cheeks  of  Miss  Polly 
Bridges  behind  the  awful  door  of  the 
sacristy,  at  which  theft  I  was  caught  by 
her  laughing  mother ; — I  be^  to  apologise 
to  your  "  Reader,"  sir,  for  this  (digres- 
sion) confession,  but  as  my  ancestors  came 
from  the  priory,  and  Christmas  being  near, 
I  trust  he  will  pardon  me,  as  Polly's  mo- 
ther gave  me  absolution.  On  this  ox- 
roasting  occasion,  Clack  seemed  really 
rising  out  of  the  stones.  Dancing,  music, 
holyday,  and  mirth,  pervaded  every  house  • 
and,  very  unusual,  every  poor  person  that 
brought  a  plate  for  the  portion  of  slices  o 
sheep,  roasted  opposite  at  baker  Hendon's, 
pretended  to  have  more  children  than 
there  were  at  home;  some  families  im- 
posed on  the  cook  by  two  and  three  ap- 
plications.— Who  does  not  recollect  the 
ox  and  sheep  roasting?  I  can  hardly  re- 
sist a  description  of  the  many  scenes  I 
witnessed  several  days  successively  in  the 
various  villages — of  the  many  happy 
hearts,  and  their  intimate  enjoyments.  I 
could  almost  follow  the  example  of 
"  Elia"  himself,  and  at  once  be  jocose, 
classical,  and  fastidious.  But  mercy  on 
your  readers'  patience  denies  me  the 
pleasure. 

Therefore,  Lastly,  "  The  Maypole  "  It 
was  standing,  fifteen  feet  high,  thirty-six 
years  ago.  The  higher  part  was  cut  off 
at  the  request  of  Madam  Heath,  before 
whose  house,  and  the  Trooper,  it  stood. 
I  once  myself  saw  the  "  morris-dance" 
round  it,  when  cowslips,  oxlips,  and  other 
flowers  were  suspended  up  and  down  it ; 
nails  were  driven  round  the  lower  part  to 
prevent  a  further  incision.  Unfortunately 
for  the  writer,  the  land  which  lies  from 
"  Clack  to  Barry-end,"  a  distance  less 
than  two  miles,  once  belonged  to  my  fore- 
fathers. Maud  Heath,  who  caused  a 
causeway  to  be  made  and  kept  in  order  to 
this  day,  from  Callaway's-bridge  to  Chip- 
penham,  was  one  of  my  collaterals, 


1609 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  8. 


1610 


Thanking  you,  sir,  for  your  indulgence, 
and  a  "  Reader"  for  his  giving  me  an  op- 
portunity of  illustrating  his  positions, 
I  am, 

truly  yours, 

AN  OLD  CORRESPONDENT. 
Dec.  11,  1826. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature.     .     .     38 


82. 


Bmmbcr  8. 

CONCEPTION  B.  V.  M. 

This  day  is  so  marked  in  the  church  of 
England  calendar  and  almanacs.  It  is 
the  Romish  festival  of  u  The  Immaculate 
Conception  of  the  Holy  Virgin,"  whom 
that  church  states  to  have  been  conceived 
and  born  without  original  sin.  A  doc- 
trine whereon  more  has  been  written, 
perhaps,  than  any  other  point  of  eccle- 
siastical controversy.  One  author,  Peter 
D'Alva,  has  published  forty-eight  folios 
on  the  mysteries  of  the  Conception. 

The  immaculate  conception  and  happy 
nativity  of  the  Virgin  are  maintained  to 
have  taken  place  at  Loretto,  about  150 
miles  from  Hume ;  and  further,  that  at 
that  particular  place,  "  hallowed  by  her 
birth,"  she  was  saluted  by  the  angel 
Gabriel,  and  that  she  there  nurtured  our 
Saviour  until  he  was  twelve  years  of  age. 
The  popular  belief  readily  yielding  to 
that  which  power  dictated,  Loretto  be- 
came one  of  the  richest  places  in  the 
world,  from  the  numerous  pilgrimages 
and  votive  presents  made  to  the  "  Sancta 
Casa"  or  " Holy  House,"  to  enclose 
which,  a  magnificent  church  was  erected 
and  dedicated  to  the  Virgin,  hence  gene- 
rally styled  "  our  Lady  of  Loretto." 

Peter  the  Lombard  originally  started 
tne  mystery  of  the  immaculate  concep- 
tion in  the  year  1060;  though  Baronius 
affirms,  that  it  was  "  discovered  by  Re- 
velation" in  the  year  1109,  to  one,  (but 
his  name  is  not  recorded,)  "  who  was  a 
great  lover  of  the  Virgin,  and  daily  read 
her  office."  On  the  day  he  was  to  be 
married,  however,  he  was  "  so  much 
occupied,"  that  this  usual  piece  of  de- 
votion escaped  his  attention  until  he  was 
in  "  the  nuptial  office,"  when,  suddenly 
recollecting  the  omission,  he  sent  his 
bride  and  all  the  company  home  while 
ne  performed  it.  During  this  pious  duty, 
the  Virgin  appeared  to  him  with  her  son 
in  her  arms,  and  reproached  him  for  his 


neglect,  affording,  however,  the  glorious 
hope  of  salvation,  if  he  would  "  quit  hia 
wife  and  consider  himself  espoused  to 
her,"  declaring  to  him  the  whole  of  the 
circumstances  of  her  nativity,  which  IIP 
reported  to  the  pope,  who  naturally  caused 
her  feast  immediately  to  be  instituted. 

The  canons  of  Lyons  attempted  to  esta- 
blish an  office  for  this  mystery  in  the 
year  1136,  but  Bernard  opposed  it.  The 
council  at  Oxford,  in  1222,  left  people  at 
liberty  either  to  observe  the  day  or  not. 
Sixtus  IV.,  however,  in  the  year  147t>, 
ordered  it  to  be  generally  held  in  comme- 
moration, although  the  alleged  circum- 
stances attendant  upon  this  immaculate 
conception  are  not,  even  in  the  church  of 
Rome,  held  as  an  article  of  faith,  but 
merely  reckoned  a  "  pious  opinion." 
The  council  of  Trent  confirmed  the 
ordinances  of  Sixtus,  but  without  con- 
demning as  heretics  those  who  refused  to 
observe  it ;  and  Alexander  V.  issued 
his  bull,  even  commanding  that  there 
should  not  be  any  discussion  upon  such 
an  intricate  subject.  The  Spaniards, 
however,  were  so  strenuous  in  their  belief 
of  this  mystery,  that  from  the  year  1652, 
the  knights  of  the  military  orders  of  St. 
James  of  the  sword,  Calatrava,  and  Al- 
cantara, each  made  a  vow  at  their  ad- 
mission to  "  defend"  the  doctrine. 

In  the  popish  countries,  the  Virgin  is 
still  the  principal  favourite  of  devotion, 
and  is  addressed  by  her  devotees  under 
the  following,  from  among  many  other 
titles,  ill  suiting  with  the  reformed  senti- 
ments of  this  country. 

Empress  of  Heaven  ! 

Queen  of  Heaven  ! 

Empress  of  Angels  ! 

Queen  of  Angels  f 

Empress  of  the  Earth 

Queen  of  the  Earth  ! 

Lady  of  the  Universe  I 

Lady  of  the  World! 

Mistress  of  the  World  ! 

Patroness  of  the  Men  ! 

Advocate  for  Sinners  ! 

Mediatrix  ! 

Gate  of  Paradise  ! 

Mother  of  Mercies .' 

Goddess  !  and 

The  only  Hope  of  Shiners  ! 

Under  the  two  latter,  they  implore  the 
Virgin  for  salvation  by  the  power  which, 
as  a  mother,  she  is  inferred  to  possess  of 
"  commanding  her  son  !"  The  legends 
afford  tales  in  support  of  the  opinion,  that 
she  not  only  possesses,  but  actually  exeits 


1611 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  9. 


1612 


such  authorities.—*"  O  Mary,"  says  St. 
Bonaventure,  "  be  a  man  never  so  wicked 
and  miserable  a  sinner,  you  have  the  soft 
compassion  of  a  mother  for  him,  and 
never  leave  him  until  you  have  recon- 
ciled him  to  his  judge."  One  instance  of 
which  peculiar  protection  of  sinners  is 
recorded  from  father  Crassett,  who  with 
much  solemnity  states,  that  "  a  soldier, 
hardened  by  his  occupation,  had  not  only 
renounced  Christ,  but  given  himself  up 
wholly  to  the  devil  and  the  most  vicious 
courses,  though,  as  he  did  not  also  re- 
nounce  the  Virgin,  he  in  a  time  of  much 
necessity  fervently  prayed  for  her  inter- 
cession." This  application,  he  adds, 
"  was  instantly  attended  to,  and  the  man 
heard  the  benevolent  mother  of  our  Lord 
desire  her  son  tj  have  mercy  upon  him ; 
who,  not  to  refuse  his  parent,  answered, 
he  would  do  it  for  her  sake,  notwithstand- 
ing he  had  himself  been  wholly  forgotten 
and  unnoticed." 

The  first  who  was  particularly  noticed 
as  introducing  this  worship  of  the  Virgin, 
is  Peter  Gnapheus,  bishop  of  Antioch,  in 
the  fifth  century,  who  appointed  her  name 
to  be  called  upon  in  the  prayers  of  the 
church.  It  is  said  that  Peter  Fullo,  a 
monk  of  Constantinople,  introduced  the 
name  of  the  Virgin  Mary  in  the  public 
prayers  about  the  year  480;  but  it  is 
certain,  she  was  not  generally  invoked 
in  public  until  a  long  time  after  that 
period.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  •  22. 

JBmmber  9. 

JEWISH  MARRIAGE  CEREMONY. 

On  the  9th  of  December,  1809,  the 
following  cause  was  tried  in  the  court  of 
King's-bench,  Guildhall,  London,  before 
lord  Ellenborough  and  a  special  jury. 
Holme  and  others  v.  Noah. 

Mr.  Garrow  stated  this  to  be.  an  action 
upon  a  bill  of  exchange  for  a  small  sum 
of  money  for  coals,  which  the  plaintiffs, 
who  were  coal-merchants,  had  furnished 
*o  the  defendant,  who  was  an  ingenious 
iady,  employing  herself  in  drawing  pic- 
tures. The  bill,  when  due,  had  not  been 
honoured 

Ar.  Park,  in  defence  to  the  action, 
ujiintained,  that  the  defendant  was  a 


Mr.  Brady's  Clavis  Calendaria. 


married  woman,  and  said  he  held  an 
excellent  treatise  in  his  hand,  called 
"  Uxor  Hebreiaca,"  from  whence  he  cited 
in  behalf  of  his  client,  who  was  a  Jewess, 
whose  husband  was  alive. 

Mr.  Philips,  reader  of  the  Synagogue 
of  the  Jews  in  Leadenhall-street,  proved 
the  marriage  to  have  taken  place  in  the 
year  1781;  he  was  present  at  it.  The 
proper  priest,  now  dead,  officiated  in  the 
usual  form  and  solemnity,  and  these 
parties  were  duly  united  in  lawful  mar- 
riage, according  to  the  Mosaic  form.  He 
was  one  of  the  attesting  witnesses  of  the 
entry  of  the  marriage  in  the  book  of  the 
priest. 

Mr.  Levi  proved  that  he  knew  the 
husband  and  wife ;  was  present  at  the 
marriage,  he  being  then  only  thirteen. 

Jos.  Abidigore,  a  teacher  of  the  He- 
brew language,  read  in  English  the  entry 
in  the  priest's  book  of  this  marriage ;  the 
ceremony  was  executed  by  the  priest. 
The  entry  in  English  was  thus : 

"  Fourth  day  of  the  week,  in  the  second 
month  Neron,  in  the  year  5541  after  the 
creation  of  the  world,  according  to  the 
reckoning  here  in  London.  Henry  Noel 
said  to  Emily — "  Become  thou  a  wife 
unto  me,  according  to  the  law  of  Moses, 
and  I  will  ever  after  maintain  thee  ac- 
cording to  the  rites  of  the  Jews ;"  and  the 
priest  said,  "  I  heard  him  account  her 
wife,  and  she  shall  bring  to  him  the  dowry 
of  her  virginity  according  to  the  law,  and 
she  shall  remain  and  cohabit  with  him." 
To  which  the  lady  did  consent  and  become 
unto  him  his  wife,  and  she  offered  him 
presents  consisting  of  silver  and  go'.d, 
and  splendid  ornaments  of  gold,  and 
100  pieces  of  fine  silver ;  and  the  bride- 
groom accepted  these  presents  of  the 
bride,  and  brought  also  100  pieces  of  the 
like  gold,  ornaments,  and  fine  silver;  the 
whole  amounting  together  to  200  pieces 
of  gold  and  fine  silver;  and  the  bride- 
groom doth  take  all  the  responsibility  of 
the  care  of  all  for  himself,  for  his  bride, 
and  for  their  children.  And  their  main- 
tenance to  be  had  out  of  the  property 
which  he  doth  possess,  under  this  solemn 
union. 

Lord  Ellenborough. — This  marriage 
being  proved  to  be  duly  had  according  to 
the  solemnities  of  the  Mosaic  law,  the 
plaintiffs  must  be  called. — Plaintiffs  nor* 
suited. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  37  •  85 


1013  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.—DECEMBER  10,  II,  J2. 


1C14 


IBeremfier  10. 

A  WELSH  BAPTISM. 
For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

On  the  10th  of  December,  1813,  in 
passing  through  the  small  village  of  Llan- 
gemuch,  in  Carmarthenshire,  I  observed 
several  of  the  villagers  assembled  round 
the  door  and  windows  of  one  of  the  cot- 
tages, and  heard  within  the  loud  tones  of 
what  proved  to  be  one  of  their  preachers. 
I  entered,  and  found  them  employed  in 
the  baptism  of  a  child.  The  font  was  a 
pint  basin,  placed  on  a  small  plate ;  the 
humble  table  was  covered  with  a  clean 
napkin.  The  minister,  a  brawny,  round- 
shouldered  young  man,  with  deep-cut 
features  and  overhanging  brows,  his  eyes 
closed,  and  his  body  moving  in  every 
direction,  roared  out  in  the  most  discord- 
ant and  deafening  din ;  his  voice  then 
suddenly  fell — then  rose,  and  fell  again, 
with  most  surprising,  but  most  inharmo- 
nious modulation.  The  child  he  then 
proceeded  to  cross,  "  in  the  name,  &c.," 
the  whole  being  in  the  Welsh  language  : 
the  name  of  the  child  (Henry)  was  the 
only  English  sound  which  caught  my  ear. 
Next  followed,  what  appeared  to  me,  an 
address  to  the  parents.  The  scene  was 
picturesque.  The  cottage  rude,  and  but 
half  illumined  by  the  dim  light — the 
vehement  contortions  of  the  preacher — 
the  mother  and  the  child,  with  several 
young  women,  whose  cheeks  were  as  ruddy 
as  the  Welsh  cloaks  with  which  they  were 
adorned,  sitting  beside  the  fire — the  father, 
in  his  countenance  a  mixture  of  rudeness 
and  of  puritanism,  leaning  against  the 
wall  in  an  attitude  of  the  profoundest 
attention — two  or  three  old  women  cough- 
ing and  groaning  around  the  preacher- 
some  labourers  standing  in  a  group,  in  a 
dark  corner,  scarcely  discernible— and 
the  chubby  children,  half  wishing,  but 
not  daring1,  to  continue  their  sports  :  these, 
and  the  other  features  of  this  unstudied 
scene,  would  have  formed  an  admirable 
subject  for  the  pencil  of  a  Wilkie.  At 
length  the  preacher  approached  to  a  con- 
clusion, an4  wound  up  his  address  in  a 
peroration,  distinguished  by  increased 
energy  of  mariner,  by  more  hideous  faces, 
by  accelerated  motions  of  his  limbs,  and 
by  louder  vociferation.  He  suddenly  sat 
down  :  the  religious  part  of  the  ceremony 
was  over,  and  I  was  invited  to  partake  of 
the  rustic  fare  which  had  been  provided 
for  the  occasion.  J.  D. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     ....  37  •  90. 

IBmmber  ll 

THE  FEMALE  CHARACTER. 

Ledyard,  the  traveller,  who  died  at 
Cairo  in  1788,  on  his  way  to  accomplish 
the  task  of  traversing  the  widest  part  of 
the  continent  of  Africa  from  east  to  west, 
in  the  supposed  latitude  of  the  Niger, 
pays  a  just  and  handsome  tribute  to  the 
kind  affections  of  the  sex 

"  I  have  always  observed,"  says  Led- 
yard, "  that  women,  in  all  countiies,  are 
civil  and  obliging,  tender  and  humane ; 
that  they  are  ever  inclined  to  be  gay  and 
cheerful,  timorous  and  modest ;  and  that 
they  do  not  hesitate,  like  men,  to  perform 
a  generous  action.  Not  haughty,  not 
arrogant,  not  supercilious,  they  are  full 
of  courtesy,  and  fond  of  society;  more 
liable,  in  general,  to  err  than  man,  but, 
in  general,  also  more  virtuous,  and  per- 
forming more  good  actions  than  he.  To 
a  woman,  whether  civilized  or  savage,  I 
never  addressed  myself  in  the  language  of 
decency  and  friendship,  without  receiving 
a  decent  and  friendly  answer.  With  man 
it  has  often  been  otherwise.  In  wander- 
ing over  the  barren  plains  of  inhospitable 
Denmark,  through  honest  Sweden,  and 
frozen  Lapland,  rude  and  churlish  Finland, 
unprincipled  Russia,  and  the  wide-spread 
regions  of  the  wandering  Tartar  ;  if  hun- 
gry, dry,  cold,  wet,  or  sick,  the  women 
have  ever  been  friendly  to  me,  and  uni- 
formly so  :  and  to  add  to  this  virtue,  (so 
worthy  the  appellation  of  benevolence,) 
these  actions  have  been  performed  in  so 
free  and  so  kind  a  manner,  that,  if  I  was 
dry,  I  drank  the  sweetest  draught;  and 
if  hungry,  I  ate  the  coarse  morsel  with  a 
double  relish." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  •  20 

JBmmber  12, 

NATIONAL  SONG. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Booh. 

Sir, — I  perceive  in  page  539  of  the 
present  volume,  you  have  inserted  the 
national  song  of  "  God  save  the  King," 
in  the  Welsh  language,  as  translated  by 
the  able  and  learned  Dr.  W.  O.  Pughe, 
perhaps  the  following  version  of  the  same 


1615 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  13,  14. 


1616 


in  the  Gaelic  language,  or  that  spoken  by 
the  Highlanders  of  Scotland,  may  prove 
acceptable  to  many  readers. 

O  Dhia  !  cum  suas,  ard  Dheors'  ar  High, 
Gleidh  fad  'a  slan  an  Righ, 

Dhia  team  4n  Righ. 
Cuir  buaidh,  air  a  shluagh  'sa  chath, 
Dion  iad,  fo  d'  sgiath  '&  mhagh 
Gu'm  fad  a  riaghlis  6  gu  maith, 

Dhia  sabhal  an  Righ. 

O  Dhia  !  le  d'  sgiath  dion  da  shliochd, 
Gun  choirp  's  gun  chunart  am  feasd, 

Crun  'oirdearg  na  Righachd. 
Thoir  dha,  thar  uile  namhid,  buaidh, 
Air  tir  agus,  air  a  chuan, 
'S  gliocas  mor  an  fheum  uair, 

Dhia  bean'ichdo  shluagh  an  Righ. 

Bithidr  ait'n  diugh  thar  tir  na  'n  tonn, 
Aoiblmeas,  aighar,  ceol's  fonn, 

Air  son  deugh  shlaint  'an  Righ. 
Deich  agus  da  fhichid  bliadhna 
Le  cumhachd,  onair  agus  cial, 
Lion  e  caithir  alba  na  buaidh, 

Buanich  O  Dhia  I  sa'  ol  an  Righ. 


Among 


the  translations  of  Dr.  Owen 


Pughe,  his  version  of"  NonnobisDomine 
is  excellent.     I  subjoin  it,  that  you  may 
make  what  use  of  it  you  please. 

O,  nid  i  ni,  ein  Jor,  o  nid  i  ni, 
Ond  deled  i  dy  Enw  ogoniant  byth, 
Ond  deled  i  dy  Enw  ogoniant  byth. 

GWILYM  SAIS. 


NATURALISTS     CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  05. 

JBmmlmrlS. 

Lucy.* 

ART  OF  PRESERVING  HEALTH. 

Be  virtuous  ;  govern  your  passions ; 
restrain  your  appetites ;  avoid  excess 
and  high-seasoned  food  ;  eat  slowly,  and 
chew  your  food  well.  Do  not  eat  to  full 
satiety.  Breakfast  betimes;  it  is  not 
wholesome  to  go  out  fasting.  In  winter, 
a  glass  or  two  of  wine  is  an  excellent  pre- 
servative against  unwholesome  air.  Make 
a  hearty  meal  about  noon,  and  eat  plain 
meats  only.  Avoid  sailed  meats: -those 
who  eat  them  often  have  pale  complexions, 
a  slow  pulse,  and  are  full  of  corrupted 

*  See  vol.  i.  1570. 


humours.  Sup  betimes,  *nd  sparingly. 
Let  your  meat  ..be  neither  too  little  noi 
too  much  done.  Sleep  not  till  two  hours 
after  eating.  Begin  your  meals  with  a 
little  lea,  and  wash  your  mouth  with  a 
cup  of  it  afterward. 

The  most  important  advice  which  can  be 
given  for  maintaining  the  body  in  due 
temperament,  is  to  be  very  moderate  in 
the  use  of  all  the  pleasures  of  sense ;  for 
all  excess  weakens  the  spirits.  Walk  not 
too  long  at  once.  Stand  not  for  hours  in 
one  posture ;  nor  lie  longer  than  necessary. 
In  winter,  keep  not  yourself  too  hot ;  nor 
in  summer  too  cold.  Immediately  after 
you  awake,  rub  your  breast  where  the 
heart  lies,  with  the  palm  of  your  hand. 
Avoid  a  stream  of  wind  as  you  would  an 
arrow.  Coming  out  of  a  warm  bath,  or 
after  hard  labour,  do  not  expose  your 
body  to  cold.  If  in  the  spring,  there 
should  be  two  or  three  hot  days,  do  not 
be  in  haste  to  put  off  your  winter  clothes. 
It  is  unwhotesome  to  fan  yourself  during 
perspiration.  Wash  your  mouth  with 
water  or  tea,  lukewarm,  before  you  go  to 
rest,  and  rub  the  soles  of  your  feet  warm 
When  you  lie  down,  banish  all  thought 


NATURALISTS*  CALENlAJ  . 

Mean  Temperature    ....  08  •       ., 

Bmm&er  14. 

IRISH  LINEN. 

In  December,  1738,  was  shown  at  the 
Linen  Hall,  in  Dublin,  a  piece  of  linen, 
accounted  the  finest  ever  made ;  there  were 
3800  threads  in  the  breadth.    The  trustees 
of  the  linen  manufacture  set  a  value  of 
forty  guineas  on  the  piece,  which  contained 
23  yards.     It  was  spun  by  a  woman  of 
Down.     About   two   years   before,   Mr. 
Robert  Kaine,  at  Lurgan,  county  of  Ard- 
magh,    sold   24  yards  of  superfine  Irish 
linen,  manufactured  in  that  town,  for  40*. 
per   yard,   to   the   countess   of    Antrim 
which  occasioned  the  following  lines  : — 
Would  all  the  great  such  patterns  buy, 
How  swiftly  would  the  shuttles  fly, 
Cambray  should  cease,  and  Hamburgh  too, 
To  boz>st  their  art !  since  Lurgan !  you 
May,  like  Arachne,  dare  to  vie,  » 
With  any  spinning  deity  ; 
Nay,  tho'  Asbestos  she  should  weave, 
Thou,  Lurgan,  should'st  the  prize  receive, 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  .  .  88  •  20 


1617 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  15,  16. 


If)  18 


15. 

A  LITERARY  DISASTER. 

On  a  certain  day,  the  date  of  which  is 
uncertain,  in  the  month  of  December,  1 7  30, 
the  books  and  MSS.  of  Dr.  Tanner,  bishop 
of  St.  Asaph,  beinj  on  their  removal  from 
Norwich  to  Christchurch  college  in  Ox- 
ford, fell  into  and  lay  under  water  twenty 
hours,  and  received  great  damage.  Among 
them  were  near  300  volumes  of  MSS.  pur- 
chased of  Mr.  Bateman,  a  bookseller,  who 
bought  them  of  archbishop  Sancroft's 
nephew.  There  were  in  all  seven  cart 
loads.* 

It  may  be  recollected  that  bishop  Tan- 
ner was  the  friend  of  Mr.  Browne  Willis, 
respecting  whom  an  account  has  been 
inserted,  with  an  original  letter  from  that 
distinguished  antiquary  to  the  prelate 
when  chancellor  of  Norwich. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  temperature. .  38  •  67. 

jBmm&er  16. 

Cambridge  Term  ends. 

O  SAPIENTIA. 

The  meaning  of  this  term  in  the  calen- 
dar is  in  vol.  i.  1571. 

STORY-TELLING. 

Is  a  diversion  of  necessity  in  winter? 
when  -we  are  confined  by  the  weather,  and 
must  make  entertainment  in  the  house, 
because  we  cannot  take  pleasure  in  the 
open  air.  Though  at  any  time  we  may 
like,  yet  now  we  love  to  hear  accounts  of 
sayings  and  doings  in  former  times ;  and, 
therefore,  it  seems  that  a  description 
of  an  old  house  in  the  country,  and  an  old 
and  true  story  belonging  to  it,  may  be 
agreeable. 

AN  ANCIENT  HALL. 

Littlecotes-house,  two  miles  from  Hun- 
gerford,  in  Berkshire,  stands  in  a  low  and 
icnely  situation.  On  three  sides  it  is 
surrounded  by  a  park  that  spreads  over 
the  adjoining  hill ;  on  the  fourth,  by  mea- 
dows, which  are  watered  by  the  river 
Kennet.  Close  on  one  side  of  the  house 
is  a  thick  grove  of  lofty  trees,  along  the 
verge  of  which  runs  one  of  the  principal 
avenues  to  it  through  the  park.  It  is  an 
irregular  building  of  great  antiquity,  arjd 

*  Gentleman  s  Magazine. 


was  probably  erected  about  the  time  ot 
the  termination  of  feudal  warfare,  when 
defence  came  no  longer  to  be  an  object  in 
a  country-mansion.  Many  circumstances 
in  the  interior  of  the  house,  however,  seem 
appropriate  to  feudal  times.  The  hall  K» 
very  spacious,  floored  with  stones,  and 
lighted  by  large  transom  windows,  that 
are  clothed  with  casements.  Its  walls  are 
hung  with  old  military  accoutrements, 
that  have  long  been  left  a  prey  to  rust. 
At  one  end  of  the  hall  is  a  range  of  coats 
of  mail  and  helmets,  and  there  is  on 
every  side  abundance  of  old-fashioned 
pistols  and  guns,  many  of  them  with 
matchlocks.  Immediately  below  the  cor- 
nice hangs  a  row  of  leathern  jerkins,  made 
in  the  form  of  a  shirt,  supposed  to  have 
been  worn  as  armour  by  the  vassals.  A 
large  oak-table,  reaching  nearly  from  one 
end  of  the  room  to  the  other,  might  have 
feasted  the  whole  neighbourhood  ;  and  an 
appendage  to  one  end  of  it,  made  it 
answer  at  other  times  for  the  old  game  of 
shuffle-board.  The  rest  of  the  furniture 
is  in  a  suitable  style,  particularly  an  arm- 
chair of  cumbrous  workmanship,  con- 
structed of  wood,  curiously  turned,  with 
a  high  back  and  triangular  seat,  said  to 
have  been  used  by  judge  Popham  in  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth.  The  entrance  into 
the  hall  is  at  one  end  by  a  low  door,  com- 
municating with  a  passage  that  leads  from 
the  outer  door,  in  the  front  of  the  house, 
to  a  quadrangle  within ;  at  the  other  it 
opens  upon  a  gloomy  staircase,  by  which 
you  ascend  to  theofirst  floor,  and  passing 
the  doors  of  some  bed-chambers,  enter  a 
narrow  gallery,  which  extends  along  the 
back  front  of  the  house  from  one  end  to 
the  other  of  it,  and  looks  upon  an  old 
garden.  This  gallery  is  hung  with  por- 
traits, chiefly  in  the  Spanish  dresses  of  the 
sixteenth  century.  In  one  of  the  bed- 
chambers, which  you  pass  in  going  to- 
wards the  gallery,  is  a  bedstead  with  blue 
furniture,  which  time  has  now  made  dingy 
and  threadbare  ;  and  in  the  bottom  of  one 
of  the  bed-curtains  you  are  shown  a  place 
where  a  small  piece  has  been  cut  out  and 
sown  in  again ;  a  circumstance  which 
serves  to  identify  the  scene  of  the  follow- 
ing story : — 

It  was  a  dark,  rainy  night  in  the  month 
of  November,  that  an  old  midwife  sat 
musing  by  her  cottage  fire-side,  when  on 
a  sudden  she  was  startled  by  a  loud  knock- 
ing at  the  door.  On  opening  it  she 
found  a  horseman,  who  told  her  that  her 
assistance  was  required  immediately  by  a 


1619 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  17. 


1620 


person  of  rank,  and  that  she  should  be 
handsomely  rewarded,  but  that  there  were 
reasons  for  keeping  the  affair  a  strict 
secret,  and,  therefore,  she  must  submit  to 
be  blindfolded,  and  to  be  conducted  in 
that  condition  to  the  bed-chamber  of  the 
lady.  After  proceeding  in  silence  for 
many  miles  through  rough  and  dirty  lanes, 
they  stopped,  and  the  midwife  was  led 
into  a  house,  which,  from  the  length  of 
her  walk  through  the  apartment,  as  well 
as  the  sounds  about  her,  she  discovered  to 
be  the  seat  of  wealth  and  power.  When 
the  bandage  was  removed  from  her  eyes, 
she  found  herself  in  a  bed-chamber,  in 
which  were  the  lady,  on  whose  account  she 
had  been  sent  for,  and  a  man  of  haughty 
and  ferocious  aspect.  The  lady  gave 
birth  to  a  fine  boy.  Immediately  the 
man  commanded  the  midwife  to  give  him 
the  child,  and,  catching  it  from  her,  he 
hurried  across  the  room,  and  threw  it 
on  the  back  of  the  fire,  that  was  blazing 
in  the  chimney.  The  child,  however,  was 
strong,  and  by  its  struggles  rolled  itself 
off  upon  the  hearth,  when  the  ruffian 
again  seized  it  with  fury,  and,  in  spite  of 
the  intercession  of  the  midwife,  and  the 
more  piteous  entreaties  of  the  mother, 
thrust  it  under  the  grate,  and  raking  the 
live  coals  upon  it,  soon  put  an  end  to  its 
life.  The  midwife,  after  spending  some 
time  in  affording  all  the  relief  in  her 
power  to  the  wretched  mother,  was  told 
that  she  must  be  gone.  Her  former  con- 
ductor appeared,  who  again  bound  her 
eyes,  and  conveyed  her  behind  him  to  her 
own  home  ;  he  then  paid  her  handsomely, 
and  departed.  The  midwife  was  strongly 
agitated  by  the  horrors  of  the  preceding 
night ;  and  she  immediately  made  a  de- 
position of  the  fact  before  a  magistrate. 
Two  circumstances  afforded  hopes  of  de- 
tecting the  house  in  which  the  crime  had 
been  committed ;  one  was,  that  the  mid- 
wife, as  she  sat  by  the  bed-side,  had,  with 
a  view  to  discover  the  place,  cut  out  a 
piece  of  the  bed-curtain,  and  sown  it  in 
again  ;  the  other  was,  that  as  she  had 
descended  the  staircase,  she  had  counted 
the  steps.  Some  suspicions  fell  upon  one 
Darrell,  at  that  time  the  proprietor  of 
Littlecote-house  and  the  domain  around 
it.  The  house  was  examined,  and  iden- 
tified by  the  midwife,  and  Darrell  was 
tried  at  Salisbury  for  the  murder.  By 
corrupting  his  judge,  he  escaped  the  sen- 
tence of  the  law  ;  but  broke  his  neck 
by  a  fall  from  his  horse  in  hunting,  in  a 
few  months  after  The  place  where  this 


happened  is  still  known  by  the  name  of 
DarreU's  hill  :  a  spot  to  be  dreaded  by 
the  peasant  whom  the  shades  of  evening 
have  overtaken  on  his  way.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature. .    38  •  67. 

firombtr  17. 

COUNTRY  MANSIONS. 
During  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  and 
even  of  Mary,  they  were,  if  we  except 
their  size,  little  better  than  cottages,  being 
thatched  buildings,  covered  on  the  outside 
with  the  coarsest  clay,  and  lighted  only 
by  lattices.  When  Harrison  wrote,  in  the 
age  of  Elizabeth,  though  the  greater  num- 
ber of  manor-houses  still  remained  framed 
of  timber,  yet  he  observes,  "  such  as  be 
latelie  builded,  are  com'onlie  either  of 
bricke  or  hard  stone,  or  both ;  their  roomes 
large  and  comelie,  and  houses  of  office 
further  distant  from  their  lodgings."  The 
old  timber  mansions,  too,  were  then 
covered  with  the  finest  plaster,  which, 
says  the  historian,  "  beside  the  delectabje 
whitenesse  of  the  stuffe  itselfe,  is  laied  on 
so  even  and  smoothlie,  as  nothing  in  my 
judgment  can  be  done  with  more  exact- 
nesse :"  and  at  the  same  time,  the  win- 
dows, interior  decorations,  and  furniture, 
were  becoming  greatly  more  useful  and 
elegant.  "  Of  old  time  our  countrie 
houses,"  continues  Harrison,  "  instead  of 
glasse  did  use  much  lattise,  and  thatwmade 
either  of  wicker  or  fine  rifts  of  oke  in 
chekerwise.  I  read  also  that  some  of  the 
better  sort,  in  and  before  the  time  of  the 
Saxons,  did  make  panels  of  home  instead 
of  glasse,  and  fix  them  in  woodden  calmes. 
But  as  home  in  windows  is  now  quite 
laid  downe  in  everie  place,  so  our  lattises 
are  also  growne  into  lesse  use,  because 
glasse  is  come  to  be  so  plentifull,  and 
within  a  verie  little  so  good  cheape  if  not 
better  then  the  other.  The  wals  of  our 
houses  on  the  inner  sides  in  like  sort  be 
either  hanged  with  tapisterie,  arras  worke, 
or  painted  cloths,  wherein  either  diverse 
histories,  or  hearbes,  beasts,  knots,  and 
such  like  are  stained,  or  else  they  are 
seeled  with  oke  of  our  owne,  or  wainescot 
brought  hither  out  of  the  east  countries, 
whereby  the  roomes  are  not  a  little  com- 
manded, made  warme,  and  much  more 
close  than  otherwise  they  would  be.  As 
for  stooves  we  have  not  hitherto  used 

*  In  Dr.  Drake's  "  Shakspeare  and  his  Times," 
from  «ir  Walter  Scott's  "Boktby." 


1621 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  18. 


1622 


them  greatlie,  yet  doo  they  now  begin  to 
be  made  in  diverse  houses  of  the  gentrie. 
Like  in  the  houses  of  knights,  gentlemen, 
8cc.  it  is  not  geson  to  behold  generallie 
their  great  provision  of  Turkic  worke, 
pewter,  brasse,  fine  linen,  and  thereto 
costlie  cupbords  of  plate,  worth  five  or 
six  hundred  or  a  thousand  pounds,  to  be 
deemed  by  estimation." 

The  house  of  every  country-gentleman 
of  property  included  a  neat  chapel  and  a 
spacious  hall ;  and  where  the  estate  and 
establishment  were  considerable,  the  man- 
sion was  divided  into  two  parts  or  sides, 
one  for  the  state  or  banqueting-rooms, 
and  the  other  for  the  household ;  but  in 
general,  the  latter,  except  in  baronial  re- 
sidences, was  the  only  part  to  be  met 
with,  and  when  complete,  had  the  addi- 
tion of  parlours  ;  thus  Bacon,  in  his  Essay 
on  Building,  describing  the  household 
side  of  a  mansion,  says,  "  I  wish  it  divided 
at  the  first  into  a  hall,  and  a  chappell, 
with  a  partition  between,  both  of  good 
state  and  bignesse  ;  and  those  not  to  goe 
all  the  length,  but  to  have,  at  the  further 
end,  a  winter  arid  a  summer  parler,  both 
faire  :  and  under  these  roomes  a  faire  and 
large  cellar,  sunke  under  ground :  and 
likewise,  some  privie  kitchens,  with  but- 
teries and  pantries,  and  the  like."  It  was 
the  custom  also  to  have  windows  opening 
from  the  parlours  and  passages  into  the 
chapel,  hall,  and  kitchen,  with  the  view 
of  overlooking  or  controlling  what  might 
be  going  on ;  a  trait  of  vigilant  caution, 
which  may  still  be  discovered  in  some  of 
our  ancient  colleges  and  manor-houses. 

The  hall  of  the  country  squire  was  the 
usual  scene  of  eating  and  hospitality,  at 
the  upper  end  of  which  was  placed  the 
orsille,  or  high  table,  a  little  elevated 
above  the  floor,  and  here  the  master  of 
the  mansion  presided,  with  an  authority, 
if  not  a  state,  which  almost  equalled  that 
of  the  potent  baron.  The  table  was  di- 
vided into  upper  and  lower  messes,  by  a 
huge  saltcellar,  and  the  rank  and  conse- 
quence of  the  visitors  were  marked  by 
the  situation  of  their  seats  above  and 
below  the  saltcellar ;  a  custom  which  not 
only  distinguished  the  relative  dignity  of 
the  guests,  but  extended  likewise  to  the 
nature  of  the  provision,  the  wine  fre- 
quently circulating  only  above  the  salt- 
cellar, and  the  dishes  below  it  being  of  a 
coarser  kind  than  those  near  the  head  of 
the  table  * 


Dr.  Drake 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  39  •  50, 

JBmmber  18. 

Oxford  Term  ends. 

OLD  ENGLISH  LIVING. 

The  usual  fare  of  country-gentlemen, 
relates  Harrison,  was  "  foure,  five,  or  six 
dishes,  when  they  have  but  small  resort," 
and  accordingly,  we  find  that  Justice 
Shallow,  when  he  invites  Falstaffe  to  din- 
ner, issues  the  following  orders  :  "  Some 
pigeons,  Davy  ;  a  couple  of  short-legged 
hens ;  a  joint  of  mutton ;  and  any  pretty 
little  tiny  kickshaws,  tell  William  Cook." 
But  on  feast-days,  and  particularly  on 
festivals,  the  profusion  and  cost  of  the 
table  were  astonishing.  Harrison  observes, 
that  the  country-gentlemen  and  merchants 
contemned  butcher's  meat  on  such  occa- 
sions, and  vied  with  the  nobility  in  the 
production  of  rare  and  delicate  viands,  of 
which  he  gives  a  long  list ;  and  Massin- 
ger  says, 

"  Men  may  talk  of  country  Christmasses, 
Their  thirty-pound  butter'd  eggs,  their  pies  of 

carp's  tongues, 
Their  pheasants  drench'd  with  ambergris,  the 

carcasses 

Of  three  fat  wethers  bruised  for  gravy,  to 
Make  sauce  for  a  single  peacock ;  yet  their 

feasts 
Were  fasts,  compared  with  the  city's." 

City  Madam,  act  ii.  sc.  1. 

It  was  the  custom  in  the  houses  of  the 
country-gentlemen  to  retire  after  dinner, 
which  generally  took  place  about  eleven 
in  the  morning,  to  the  garden-bower,  or 
an  arbour  in  the  orchard,  in  order  to  par- 
take of  the  banquet  or  dessert ;  thus  Shal- 
low, addressing  FalstaiFe  after  dinner, 
exclaims,  "  Nay,  you  shall  see  mine  or- 
chard :  where,  in  an  arbour,  we  will  eat  a 
last  year's  pippin  of  my  own  grafting, 
with  a  dish  of  carraways,  and  so  forth." 
From  the  banquet  it  was  usual  to  retire  to 
evening  prayer,  and  thence  to  supper, 
between  five 'and  six  o'clock ;  for,  in  Shak- 
speare's  time,  there  were  seldom  more 
than  two  meals — dinner  and  supper; 
"  heretofore,"  remarked  Harrison,  "  there 
hath  beene  much  more  time  spent  in  eat- 
ing and  drinking  than  commonlie  is  in 
these  daies ;  for  whereas  of  old  we  had 
breakfasts  in  the  forenoone,  beverages  or 
nuntions  aftei  dinner,  and  thereto  reare 
suppers  generallie  when  it  was  time  to  go 
to  rest.  Now  these  od  repasts,  thanked 


1623 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.-DECEMBEIl  19,  20. 


Iti  2  4 


be  God,  are  verie  well  left,  and  ech  one 
in  manner  (except  here  and  there  some 
yoonge  hungrie  stomach  that  cannot  fast 
till  dinner  time)  contenteth  himselfe  with 
dinner  and  supper  or.elie.  The  nobilitie, 
gentlemen,  and  merchantmen,  especiallie 
at  great  meetings,  doo  sit  commonlie  till 
two  or  three  of  the  clocke  at  afternoone, 
so  that  with  manie  it  is  an  hard  matter  to 
rise  from  the  table  to  go  to  evening  praier, 
and  returne  from  thence  to  come  time 
enough  to  supper.*' 

The  supper,  which,  on  days  of  festivity, 
was  often  protracted  to  a  late  hour,  and 
often,  too,  as  substantial  as  the  dinner, 
was  succeeded,  especially  at  Christmas, 
by  gambols  of  various  sorts ;  and  some- 
times the  squire  and  his  family  would 
mingle  in  the  amusements,  or,  retiring  to 
the  tapestried  parlour,  would  leave  the 
hall  to  the  more  boisterous  mirth  of  their 
household  ;  then  would  the  blind  harper, 
who  sold  his  fit  of  mirth  for  a  groat,  be 
introduced,  either  to  provoke  the  dance, 
or  to  rouse  their  wonder  by  his  minstrelsy ; 
his  "  matter  being,  for  the  most  part, 
stories  of  old  time, — as  the  tale  of  sir 
Topas,  the  reportes  of  Bevis  of  South- 
ampton, Guy  of  Warwicke,  Adam  Bell, 
and  Clymme  of  the  Clough,  and  such 
other  old  romances  or  historical  rimes, 
made  purposely  for  recreation  of  the  com- 
mon people,  at  Christmas  dinners  and 
brideales." 

The  posset,  at  bed-time,  closed  the 
joyous  day — a  custom  to  which  Shak- 
speare  has  occasionally  alluded  :  thus 
Lady  Macbeth  says  of  the  "  surfeited 
grooms,"  "  I  have  drugg'd  their  possets ;" 
Mr.  Quickly  tells  Rugby,  «  Go;  and 
we'll  have  a  posset  for't  soon  at  night,  in 
faith,  at  the  latter  end  of  a  sea-coal  fire  ;s 
and  Page,  cheering  Falstaffe,  exclaims, 
"  Thou  shall  eat  a  posset  to-night  at  my 
house."  Thomas  Heywood,  a  contempo- 
rary of  Shakspeare,  has  particularly  no- 
ticed this  refection  as  occurring  just  before 
bed-time :  "  Thou  shall  be  welcome  to 
beef  and  bacon,  and  perhaps  a  bag-pud- 
ding ;  and  my  daughter  Nell  shall  pop  a 
posset  upon  thee  when  (hou  goest  lobed."* 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature    ....  39 


35. 


Becemfter  19. 


clown,  and  differs  only  in  the  stuff  of  his 
clothes,  not  ihe  stuff  of  himself;  for  he 
bare  the  king's  sword  before  he  had  arms 
to  wield  it ;  yet,  being  once  laid  o'er  the 
shoulder  with  a  knighthood,  he  finds  the 
herald  his  friend.  His  father  was  a  man 
of  good  stock,  though  but  a  tanner  or 
usurer :  he  purchased  the  land,  and  his 
son  the  title.  He  has  doffed  off  the  name 
of  a  country  fellow,  but  the  look  not  so 
easy  ;  and  his  face  still  bears  a  relish  of 
churne-milk.  He  is  guarded  wilh  more 
gold  lace  lhan  all  the  genllemen  of  ihe 
country,  yet  his  body  makes  his  clothes 
still  out  of  fashion.  His  house-keeping 
is  seen  much  in  the  distinct  families  of 
dogs,  and  serving-men  attendant  on  their 
kennels,  and  the  deepness  of  their  ihroats 
is  the  depth  of  his  discourse.  A  hawk  he 
esteems  the  Irue  burden  of  nobility,  and 
is  exceeding  ambitious  to  seem  delighted 
in  the  sport,  and  have  his  fisl  gloved  with 
his  jesses.  A  justice  of  peace  he  is  to 
domineer  in  his  parish,  and  do  his  neigh- 
bour wrong  with  more  right.  He  will  be 
drunk  wilh  his  hunlers  for  company,  and 
slain  his  gentility  with  droppings  of  ale. 
He  is  fearful  of  being  sheriff  of  the  shire 
by  instinct,  and  dreads  the  assize  week  as 
much  as  the  prisoner.  In  sum,  he's  but 
a  clod  of  his  own  earth,  or  his  land  is  the 
dunghill,  and  he  the  cock  that  crows  over 
it ;  and  commonly  his  race  is  quickly 
run,  and  his  children's  children,  though 
they  scape  hanging,  return  to  the  place 
from  whence  they  came." 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperalure  ...  38  •  40. 


AN  UPSTART. 
Bishop  Earle  says,  "  he  is  a  holiday 

•  Dr.  Drake. 


Ember  Week.    See  vol.  i. 

AN  OLD  ENGLISH  SQUIRE. 
Mr.  Hastings,  an  old  gentleman  of  an- 
cient times  in  Dorsetshire,  was  low  of 
stature,  but  strong  and  active,  of  a  ruddy 
complexion,  with  flaxen  hair.  His  clothes 
were  always  of  green  cloth,  his  house  was 
of  the  old  fashion ;  in  the  midsl  of  a  large 
park,  well  slocked  with  deer,  rabbits,  and 
fish-ponds.  He  had  a  long,  narrow  bowl- 
ing-green in  it ;  and  used  to  play  with 
round  sand  bowls.  Here,  too,  he  had  a 
banqueting-room  buill,  like  a  stand,  in  a 
large  tree.  He  kept  all  sorts  of  hounds, 
that  ran  buck,  fox,  hare,  otter,  and  badger  •, 
and  had  hawks  of  all  kinds,  both  long 
and  short  winged.  His  great  hall  was 


1525 


THE  EV7ERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  21. 


162(5 


commonly  strewed  with  marrow  bones ; 
and  full  of  hawk-perches,  hounds, 
spaniels,  and  terriers.  The  upper  end  of 
it  was  hung  with  fox-skins,  of  this  and 
the  last  year's  killing.  Here  .and  there  a 
pole-cat  was  intermixed ;  and  hunters' 
poles  in  great  abundance.  The  parlour 
was  a  large  room,  completely  furnished  in 
the  same  style.  On  a  broad  hearth,  paved 
with  brick,  lay  some  of  the  choicest  ter- 
riers, hounds,  and  spaniels.  One  or  two 
of  the  great  chairs  had  litters  of  oats  in 
them,  which  were  not  to  be  disturbed. 
Of  these,  three  or  four  always  attended 
him  at  dinner;  and  a  little  white  wand  lay 
by  his  trencher,  to  defend  .t  if  they  were 
too  troublesome  In  the  windows,  which 
were  very  large,  lay  his  arrows,  cross- 
bows, and  other  accoutrements.  The 
corners  of  the  room  were  filled  with  his 
best  hunting  and  hawking  poles.  His 
oyster  table  stood  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
room,  which  was  in  constant  use  twice  a 
day  all  the  year  round;  for  he  never 
failed  to  eat  oysters  both  at  dinner  and 
ypper,  with  which  the  neighbouring  town 
of  Pool  supplied  him.  At  the  upper  end 
of  the  room  stood  a  small  table  with  a 
double  desk  ;  one  side  of  which  held  a 
church  bible,  the  other  the  book  of 
martyrs.  On  different  tables  in  the  room 
lay  hawks'  hoods,  bells,  old  hats,  with 
their  crowns  thrust  in,  full  of  pheasant 
eggs ;  tables,  dice,  cards,  and  store  of 
tobacco  pipes.  At  one  end  of  this  room 
was  a  door,  which  opened  into  a  closet, 
where  stood  bottles  of  strong  beer  and 
wine;  which  never  came  out  but  in  single 
glasses,  which  was  the  rule  of  the  house; 
for  he  never  exceeded  himself,  nor  per- 
mitted others  to  exceed.  Answering  to 
this  closet  was  a  door  into  an  old  chapel, 
which  had  been  long  disused  for  devo- 
tion ;  but  in  the  pulpit,  as  the  safest 
place,  was  always  to  be  found  a  cold 
chine  of  beef,  a  venison  pasty,  a  gammon 
of  bacon,  or  a  great  apple-pie,  with  thick 
crust  well  baked.  His  table  cost  him  not 
much,  though  it  was  good  to  eat  at.  His 
sports  supplied  all  but  beef  and  mutton  ; 
except  on  Fridays,  when  he  had  the  best 
of  fish.  He  never  wanted  a  London  pud- 
ding, and  he  always  sang  it  in  with  "  My 
part  lies  therein-a."  He  drank  a  glass  or 
two  of  wine  at  meals;  put  sirup  of  gilly- 
flowers into  his  sack  ;  and  had  always  a 
tun  glass  of  small  beer  standing  by  him, 
which  he  often  stirred  about  with  rose- 
mary. He  lived  to  be  a  hundred  ;  and 
never  lost  his  eye-sight,  norused  specta^ 


cles.  He  got  on  horseback  without  help  ; 
and  rode  to  the  death  of  the  stag,  till  he 
was  past  four-score.* 

Anciently  it  was  the  custom  with  many 
country  gentlemen  to  spend  their  Christ- 
mas in  London. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature 38  .•  17. 


Bmmber  21. 

ST.  THOMAS'S    DAY. 

Now  is  a  busy  day  in  London,  for  ward- 
motes  are  held  in  the  city  by  the  aldermen 
of  every  ward,  "  for  the  election  of  officers 
for  the  year  ensuing  ;"  and  hence,  in  the 
social  public  rooms  of  the  citizens,  there 
is  great  debate  this  evening,  on  the  merits 
of  the  common-council-men  returned 
without  opposition,  or  on  the  qualifica- 
tions of  candidates  who  contest  the  poll 
for  two  days  longer.  The  "  Lumber- 
Troop"  muster  strong  at  their  head-quar- 
ters near  Gough-square;  the  "codgers" 
enlighten  each  .other  and  their  pipes 
in  Bride-lane ;  the  "  Counsellors  under 
the  Cauliflower"  hold  divided  council, 
they  know  where ;  and  the  "  free  and 
easy  Johns  "  are  to  night  more  free  than 
easy.  These  societies  are  under  currents 
that  set  in  strong,  and  often  turn  the  tide 
of  an  election  in  favour  of  some  "  good 
fellow,"  who  is  good  no  where  but  in 
"  sot's-hole." 

And  now  the  "  gentlemen  of  the  in- 
quest," chosen  "  at  the  church  "  in  the 
morning,  dine  together  as  the  first  impor- 
tant duty  of  their  office;  and  the  re- 
elected  ward-beadles  are  busy  with  the 
fresh  chosen  constables ;  and  the  watch- 
men are  particularly  civil  to  every 
"  drunken  gentleman "  who  happens  to 
look  like  one  of  the  new  authorities.  And 
now  the  bellman,  who  revives  the  history 
and  poetry  of  his  predecessors,  will  vo- 
ciferate— 

On  St.  Thomas's  Day. 

My  masters  all,  this  is  St.  Thomas'  Day, 
And  Christmas  now  can't  be  far  off,  you'll  say  • 
But  when  you  to  the  Ward-motes  do  repair, 
I  hope  such  good  men  will  be  chosen  there, 
As  constables  for  the  ensuing  year 
As  will  not  giutch  the  watchmen  good  strong 
beer.f 


•  Dr.  Drake;  from  Hutching'*  Dorsetshire, 
t  Bellman's  Treasury,  1/07. 


1627 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  22,  23. 


1628 


Or, 

Upon  the  Constables  first  going  out. 
The  world  by  sin  is  so  degenerate  grown, 
Scarce  can  we  strictly  call  our  own,  our  own; 
But  by  the  patronage  your  watch  affords, 
The   thief  in   vain   shall   'tempt  the  trades- 
man's hoards: 

Their  nightly  ease  enjoys  each  happy  pair, 
Secure  as  those  who  first  in  Eden  were  : 
When  willing  quires  of  angels,  as  they  slept, 
O'er  their  soft  slumbers  watchful  centry  kept.* 


DOLEING  DAY. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Maidstone,  20M  Dec.  1825. 

Sir, — There  is  a  custom  prevalent  in 
this  neighbourhood,  and  without  doubt  at 
other  places,  to  which  I  beg  to  call  your 
attention.  The  subject  to  which  I  allude 
is  the  annual  solicitation  for  charity 
on  St.  Thomas's  day.  It  has  taken  place 
here  from  time  immemorial;  consequently 
my  object  in  writing  is  to  request  you 
will  favour  us  in  your  instructive  miscel- 
lany, with  the  origin  of  the  custom,  if 
possible.  I  shall  relate  a  few  instances 
of  its  prevalency  which  come  within  my 
own  knowledge. 

At  Loose,  near  Maidstone,  Mr.  T. 
Charlton  gives  the  poor  of  the  parish 
certain  quantities  of  wheat,  apportioned 
to  their  families,  in  addition  to  which,  his 
daughters  give  the  widows  a  new  flannel 
petticoat  each ;  who,  at  the  same  time,  go 
to  the  other  respectable  inhabitants  of  the 
place  to  solicit  the  usual  donation,  and  it 
is  not  an  uncommon  thing  for  a  family 
to  get  in  this  way  six  or  seven  shillings. 

This  custom  is  also  prevalent  at  Linton, 
an  adjoining  parish ;  and  I  am  informed 
that  lord  Cornwallis,  who  resides  there, 
intends  giving  to  the  resident  poor  some- 
thing very  considerable.  At  Barming,  C. 
Whittaker,  esq.  is  provided  with  100 
loaves  to  distribute  to  the  resident  poor 
on  this  day,  which  to  my  own  knowledge 
is  annual  on  his  part ;  they  likewise  go 
to  the  other  respectable  inhabitants,  who 
also  give  their  alms  in  the  way  they  think 
best. 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  say,  that  the 
custom  here  is  known  by  the  name  of 
«  Doleing,"  and  the  day  is  called  "  Dole- 
Jig-day." 

If  any  of  your  correspondents,  or  yourself, 
can  throw  any  light  on  this  very  ancient 

•  Bellman's  Treasury,  1707. 


custom,  I  have  no  doubt  but  it  will  be 
very  acceptable  to  your  readers,  and  to 
none  more  than  to 

Your  obliged  friend, 
W.  W. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     .  .  37-17. 


IBmmber  22, 

CARD  PLAYING. 

As  on  this  prevalent  custom  of  the  sea- 
son there  have  been  remarks,  an  anecdote 
from  the  Worcester  Journal  of  1760,  be- 
fore servants'  vails  were  abolished,  and 
soon  after  the  battle  of  Minden,  may  be 
added. 

At  a  young  lady's  rout  there  appeared  a 
card  hung  to  each  of  the  candlesticks, 
with  these  words,  "  No  card  money,  but 
you  may  speak  to  the  drummer."  In  a 
corner  of  a  room  stood  the  figure  of  a 
drummer  on  a  box,  with  a  hole  in  the  top 
to  receive  money,  and  the  figure  held  a 
paper  in  its  hand  containing  a  dialogue 
between  John  and  Dick,  tvvoof  the  lady's 
servants,  wherein  they  mutually  agreed, 
"  Their  wages  being  fully  sufficient  to 
defray  all  their  reasonable  demands,  to 
dispose  of  the  card  money  as  a  token  of 
their  regard  to  the  Minden  heroes ; 
and,  with  their  good  young  lady's  con- 
sent, appointed  the  drummer  to  be  their 
receiver." 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  .  37. 

fflmmtoer  23. 

THE  CHRISTMAS  DAYS, 
•  For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Symptoms  of  the  returning  season  of 
Christmas  and  its  festivities  are  approach- 
ing ;  for  the  rustics  are  standing  at  the 
street-corners  with  boughs  of  clustering 
berry-holly  with  pointed  leaves,  glossy 
laurel,  and  the  pink-eyed  lauristina  : — the 
cheesemonger  perks  a  dandy  sprig  of 
evergreen  in  the  centre  of  his  half  butter 
tub,  and  hangs  the  griskins  and  chines  at 
his  doorposts  :  the  show  of  over-fed  beasts 
is  advertised,  and  graziers  and  come-up- 
to-tcwn  farmers,  loiter  here  to  see  the 
prize-cattle  and  prizes  adjudged  to  the 
best  feeders  :  butchers  begin  to  clear  all 
obstructions,  and  whiten  their  shambles, 
and  strew  sawdust  on  the  pavement,  and 


1629  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  23.  1630 

in  the  avenues,  to  the  scales   and   little  nent  attraction  :  watchmen  now  veer  forth 

countinghouse  box  in  which  sits  the  fe-  early  at    noon,  with    lanterns   at    their 

male  accountant,  "  brisk  as  a  bee "  and  breasts,  though  it  would   be  difficult  to 

full   of    the    "  Ready-reckoner :  "    fish-  rtad  the  secrets  deposited  within  :  poulter- 

mongers  are  no  less  active  in  showing  the  ers  are  early  at  market,  and  their  shops  are 

large  eels  and  dainty  fish,  that  are  "  fresh  piled  with  poultry  in  a  state  of  nudity  and 

as   a   daisy"  and  cold   as  death  :  sprats  death  :    the  undertaker  is  busy,  like  the 

arrive  in  abundance,  and  are  cried  up  and  tailor,  with  his  work,  and  the  charms  of 

down  alleys  and  streets  with  wondrous  Christmas  give  temporary  bustle  to  most 

competition  :  pew-openers  now  have  leave  classes  of  tradesmen  :  the  green-grocer  is 

of  their  churchwardens  to  buy  quantum  decorating  his  half-glazed  windows  with 

sufficit  of  yew,  laurel,  holly,  and  other  his  best  fruits  and  most  attractive  edibles, 

evergreens  to  tie  in  bunches  to  the  sconces  which  are  served  as  luxuries  rather  than 

and  interior  parts  of  churches  :  idle  shop-  generous  enjoyments  ;  and  his  sly  daugh- 

keepers  cannot  be  persuaded  yet  to  clear  ter  takes  care  a  certain  branch   of  the 

the  filth  from  their  doors,  thinking,  per-  business  shall  not  be  forgotten — I  allude 

haps,  a  temporary  obstruction  is  a  perma-  to 

The  Mistletoe. 

Sweet  emblem  of  returning  peace, 
The  heart's  full  gush,  and  love's  release ; 
Spirits  in  human  fondness  flow 
And  greet  the  pearly  Mistletoe. 

Many  a  maiden's  cheek  is  red 
By  lips  and  laughter  thither  led  ; 
And  flutt'ring  bosoms  come  and  go 
Under  the  druid  Mistletoe. 

Dear  is  the  memory  of  a  theft 

When  love  and  youth  and  joy  are  left ; — 

The  passion's  blush,  the  roses  glow, 

Accept  the  Cupid  Mistletoe. 

Oh  !  happy,  tricksome  time  of  mirth 

Giv'n  to  the  stars  of  sky  and  earth  ! 

May  all  the  best  of  feeling  know, 

The  custom,  of  the  Mistletoe  ! 

Spread  out  the  laurel  and  the  bay, 
For  chimney-piece  and  window  gay : 
Scour  the  brass  gear — a  shining  row, 
And  Holly  place  with  Mistletoe. 

Married  and  single,  proud  and  free, 
Yield  to  the  season,  trim  with  glee  : 
Time  will  not  stay, — he  cheats  us,  so— 
A  kiss  ?— 'tis  gone ! — the  Mistletoe 
Dee.  1826.  *,  *,  P« 

A  GLOOMY  MORNING  BEFORE  CHRISTMAS. 

It  is  methinks  a  morning  full  of  fate ! 
It  riseth  slowly,  as  her  sullen  car 
Had  all  the  weights  of  sleep  and  death  hung 

ai  it! 

She  is  not  rosy-finger'd,  but  swoln  black  ' 
Her  face  is  like  a  water  turn'd  to  blood, 
And  her  sick  head  is  bound  about  with  clouds, 
As  if  she  threatened  night  ere  noon  of  day ! 
It  does  not  look  as  it  would  have  a  hail 
Or  health  wished  in  it,  as  of  other  moms. 

Jonton* 


1631 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOli.— DECEMBER  23. 


1632 


of  ti)t 


"  And  where  did  she  come  from'1  and  who  can  she  be  ? 
Did  she  fall  from  the  sky  1  did  she  rise  from  the  sea  ?" 


Late  one  evening  in  the  spring  of  1817, 
the  rustic  inhabitants  of  Almondsbury,  in 
Gloucestershire,  were  surprised  by  the  en- 
trance of  a  young  female  in  strange  attire. 
She  wore  leather  shoes  and  black  worsted 
stockings,  a  black  stuff' gown  with  a  muslin 
frill  at  the  neck,  and  a  red  and  black  shawl 
round  her  shoulders,  and  a  black  cotton 
shawl  on  her  head.  Her  height  was 
about  five  feet  two  inches,  and  she  carried 
a  small  bundle  on  her  arm  containing  a 
few  necessaries.  Her  clothes  were  loosely 


and  tastefully  put  on  in  an  oriental  fashion. 
Her  eyes  and  hair  were  black,  her  fore- 
head was  low,  her  nose  short,  her  mouth 
wide,  her  teeth  white,  her  lips  large  and 
full,  her  under  lip  projected  a  little,  her 
chin  was  small  and  round,  her  hands  were 
clean  and  seemed  unused  to  labour.  She 
appeared  about  twenty-five  years  of  age, 
was  fatigued,  walked  with  difficulty, 
spoke  a  language  no  one  could  com- 
prehend, and  signified  by  signs  her  desire 
to  sleep  in  the  village  The  cottagers 


1633 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  23. 


1634 


vver3  afraid  to  admit  her,  and  sought  the 
decision  of  Mr.  Worrall,  a  magistrate  for 
the  county,  at  Knole,  whose  lady  caused 
her  own  maid  to  accompany  her  to  a 
public-house  in  the  village,  with  a  re- 
quest that  she  should  have  a  supper,  and 
a  comiortable  bed. 

In  the  morning  Mrs.  Worrall  found 
her,  with  strong  traces  of  sorrow  and  dis- 
tress on  her  countenance,  and  took  her 
with  her  to  Knole,  but  she  went  reluc- 
tantly. It  was  Good  Friday,  and  at  the 
mansion,  observing  a  cross-bun,  she  cut 
off  the  cross,  and  placed  it  in  her  bosom. 

Paper  and  a  pen  were  handed  to  her  to 
write  her  name ;  she  shook  her  head  : 
and  when  she  appeared  to  comprehend 
what  was  meant,  pointed  to  herself,  and 
cried  "  Caraboo."  The  next  day  she  was 
taken  to  Bristol,  examined  before  the 
mayor,  at  the  Council-house,  and  com- 
mitted to  St.  Peter's  Hospital  as  a  va- 
grant, whither  persons  of  respectability 
flocked  to  visit  the  incomprehensible  in- 
mate. From  that  place  Mrs.  Worrall  re- 
moved her  once  more  to  Knole.  A  gentle- 
man, who  had  made  several  voyages  to 
the  Indies,  extracted  from  her  signs,  and 
gestures,  and  articulation,  that  she  was 
the  daughter  of  a  person  of  rank,  of  Chi- 
nese origin,  at  "  Javasu,"  and  that  whilst 
walking  in  her  garden,  attended  by  three 
women,  she  had  been  gagged,  and  bound, 
and  carried  off,  by  the  people  of  a  pirate- 
prow,  and  sold  to  the  captain  of  a  brig, 
from  whence  she  was  transferred  to  an- 
other ship,  which  anchored  at  a  port  for 
two  days,  where  four  other  females  were 
taken  in,  who,  after  a  voyage  of  five 
weeks,  were  landed  at  another  port :  sail- 
ing for  eleven  more  weeks,  and  being 
near  land,  she  jumped  overboard,  in  con- 
sequence of  ill  usage,  and  swimming 
ashore,  found  herself  on  this  coast,  and 
had  wandered  for  six  weeks,  till  she 
found  her  way  to  Almondsbury.  She 
described  herself  at  her  father's  to  have 
been  carried  on  men's  shoulders,  in 
a  kind  of  palanquin,  and  to  have  worn 
seven  peacocks'  feathers  on  the  right  side 
of  her  head,  with  open  sandals  on  her 
feet,  having  wooden  soles  ;  and  she  made 
herself  a  dress  from  some  calico,  given 
her  by  'Mrs.  Worrall,  in  the  style  of  her 
own  which  had  been  embroidered.  The 
late  Mr.  Bird,  the  artist,  sketched  her, 
according  to  this  account,  as  in  the  en- 
graving. 


VOL.  II.— 104. 


The  particulars  connected  with  these 
recitals,  and  her  general  conduct,  were 
romantic  in  the  extreme.  ,At  the  end  or 
two  months  she  disappeared  ;  and,  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  persons  whose  sym- 
pathies she  had  excited,  the  lady  Caraboo 
a  native  of  Javasu,  in  the  east,  was  dis- 
covered to  have  been  born  at  Witheridge 
in  Devonshire,  where  her  father  was  a  cob- 
bler !  A  very  full  account  of  her  singular 
imposition  is  given  in  "  A  Narrative," 
published  by  Mr.  Gutch  of  Bristol,  in 
1817,  from  whence  this  sketch  is  taken. 
After  her  remarkable  adventures,  she 
found  it  convenient  to  leave  this  country. 
A  Bath  correspondent  writes  as  follows : — 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
In  the  year  1824,  Caraboo  having  re- 
turned from  America,  took  apartments  in 
New  Bond- street,  where  she  made  a  pub- 
lic exhibition  of  herself— admittance  one 
shilling  each  person  ;  but  it  does  net  ap- 
pear that  any  great  number  yver  *  to  see 
her.  Z. 


1635 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  24. 


1636 


GENTLE  CRAFTSMEN, 
An  opportunity  has  not  occurred,  till  now,  to  introduce  the  following 


oft 


It  was  purposed  to  have  been  accom- 
panied by  others  :  as  it  is,  indulgence  is 
craved  foi  it  as  a  specimen  of  the  art  and 
dexterity  of  our  ancestors  in  shoe-making 
and  wearing.  It  is  drawn  from  the  ori- 
ginal, purchased  by  Mr.  J.  J.  A.  F.,  with 
other  curiosities,  at  the  sale  of  the  Leve- 
rian  Museum. 

The  shoe  is  of  white  kid  leather,  ca- 
lashed  with  black  velvet.  There  are 
marks  of  stitches  by  which  ornaments  had 
been  affixed  to  it.  Its  clog  is  simply  a 
straight  piece  of  stout  leather,  inserted  in 
the  underleather  at  the  toe,  and  attached 
to  the  heel.  That  such  were  walked  in 
is  certain;  that  the  fair  wearers  could 
have  run  in  them  is  impossible  to  ima- 
gine. They  were  in  fashion  at  the  Res- 
toration. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature     ....  38  •  72. 


24. 

ROBIN  HOOD. 

For  the  Every-Day  Book. 

The  '24th  of  December,  among  other 

causes,  is  rendered  remarkable  from   its 

having  been  the  day  on  which  the  bold 


,  anlr 


Robin  Hood  breathed  his  last,  in  the 
year  J247. 

The  accounts  of  ihe  life  of  this  extra- 
ordinary outlaw  are  so  various,  and  so 
much  mixed  up  with  fable,  that  to  render 
a  true  history  of  him  would  be  almost 
impossible. 

His  real  name  was  Fitz-Ooth,  his 
grandfather,  Ralph  Fitz-Ooth  Earl  of 
Kyme,  whose  name  appears  in  the  Roll 
of  Battle  Abbey,  came  over  to  England 
with  William  Rufus,  and  was  married  to 
a  daughter  of  Gilbert  de  Gient  earl  of 
Lincoln.* 

His  father,  William  Fitz-Ooth,. in  the 
times  of  feudal  dependancy,  was  a  ward 
of  Robert  earl  of  Oxford,  who,  by  the 
King's  order,  gave  him  his  niece  in  mar- 
riage, the  third  daughter  of  lady  Roisia  de 
Vere,  countess  of  Essex.f 

Having  dissipated  his  fortune,  Robin 
Ooth,  or  Hood,  as  he  was  named,  joined 
a  band  of  depredators,  and,  as  their 
chief,  laid  heavy  contributions,  for  his 
support,  on  all  such  as  he  deemed  rich 
enough  to  bear  the  loss. 

He  was  famed  for  his  courage,  skill  in 
archery,  and  kindness  to  the  poor,  who 
often  shared  with  him  in  the  plunder  he 

•Stukeley'sPalaographia  Britannica,  No.  11. 1745. 
-tlbid. 


THE  EVERY^-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  24. 


1637 

had  taken.  The  principal  scene  of  his 
exploits  is  said  to  have  been  in  Sher- 
wood Forest,  and  the  period,  that  of  the 
reign  of  Richard  I.,  thus  described  by 
Stowe: —  -?ii-':" 

"  In  this  time  (1190)  were  many  rob- 
bers and  outlaws ;  among  the  which  Ro- 
bin Hood  and  Little  John,  renowned 
thieves,  continued  in  woods,  dispoyling 
and  plundering  the  goods  of  the  rich ; 
they  killed  none  but  such  as  would  invade 
them,  or  by  resistance  for  their  own  de- 
fence. 

"  The  said  Robert  entertained  an  hun- 
dred tall  men  and  good  archers  with  such 
spoiles  and  thefts  as  he  got,  upon  whom 
four  hundred  (were  they  ever  so  strong) 
durst  not  give  the  onset.  He  suffered  no 
woman  to  be  oppressed,  violated,  or 
otherwise  molested  ;  poor  men's  goods  he 
spared,  abundantly  relieving  them  with 
that  which  by  theft  he  got  from  abbeys, 
and  the  houses  of  rich  carles :  whom 
Major  (the  historian)  blameth  for  his  ra- 
pine and  theft,  but  of  all  thieves  he 
affivmeth  him  to  be  the  prince,  and  the 
most  gentle  theefe."  * 

"  It  is  said,"  writes  Baker,  "  that  he 
was  of  noble  blood,  at  least  made  noble, 
no  less  than  an  earl,  for  deserving  ser- 
vices, but  having  wasted  his  estate  in 
riotous  courses,  very  penury  forced  him 
to  this  course."f 

Robin  Hood  was  the  hero  of  many  po- 
pular songs,  several  of  which  are  to  be 
found  in  "Evans's  Collection  of  Old 
Ballads,"  as  early  as  the  reign  of  Ed- 
ward III.  R.  Langlande,  a  priest,  in  his 
"  Pierce  Plowman's  Visions,"  notices 
him  : — 

"  I   cannot  perfitly  my   Paternoster,  as  the 
priest  it  singeth, 

I  can    rimes  of  Robenhod  and  Randal  of 
Chester, 

But  of  our  Lorde  or  our  Lady  I  learne  no- 
thyng  at  all." 

He  is  reported  to  have  lived  till  the 
year  1247 ;  but  Baker,  in  his  "  Chrono- 
logy," makes  his  death,  which  is  said  to 
have  been  caused  by  treachery,  to  have 
taken  place  in  the  reign  of  Richard  I. 
"The  King  set  forth  a  Proclamation  tc 
have  him  apprehended;  it  happened  he 
fell  sick,  at  a  certain  nunnery  in  York- 
shire, called  Berckleys,  and  desiring  to  be 
let  blood,  was  betrayed,  and  made  to 
bleed  to  death."J 


*  Store's  Annals,  159. 
t  Baker's  Chronicles,  94. 
t  Ibid. 


1C38 


The  manner  of  his  death  is  also  re- 
corded in  an  old  ballad,  entitled  "  Robin 
Hood  and  the  valiant  Knight,  together 
with  an  Account  of  his  Death  and  Bu- 
rial." 

*     *     <P     #     * 

"  And  Robin  Hood  he  to  the  green  wood, 

And  there  he  was  taken  ill. 
And  he  sent  for  a  monk,  to  let  him  blood 

Who  took  his  life  away  ; 
Now  this  being  done,  his'  archers  did  run, 

It  was  not  time  to  stay."  • 

At  Kirklees,  in  Yorkshire,  formerly  a 
Benedictine  nunnery,  is  a  gravestone, 
near  the  park,  under  which  it  is  said 
Robin  Hood  lies  buried.  There  is  the  re- 
mains of  an  inscription  on  it,  but  it  is 
quite  illegible.  Mr.  Ralph  Thoresby,  in 
his  "  Ducatus  Leodiensis,"  gives  the  fol- 
lowing as  the  epitaph  :  — 

"  Hear  undernead  dis  laith  stean 
Laiz  Robert  Earl  of  Huntington, 
Nea  arcir  ver  az  hie  sa  geude  : 
An  piple  kaud  im  Robin  Heud. 
Sic  utlawz  as  hi,  an  iz  men, 
Wil  England  never  sigh  agen. 

Obiit  24  kal.  Dekembris,  1247." 

Some  of  his  biographers  have  noticed 
him  as  earl  of  Huntingdon,  but  they  are 
not  borne  out  in  this  by  any  of  the  old 
ballads,  this  epitaph  alone  calling  him 
by  that  title.  All  the  learned  antiqua- 
rians agree  in  giving  no  credence  to  the 
genuineness  of  the  above  composition,  al- 
leging, among  other  causes,  the  quaintness 
of  the  spelling,  and  the  pace  of  the  metre, 
as  affording  them  strong  grounds  for 
suspicion. 

However  strongly  the  name  and  ex- 
ploits of  Robin  Hood  may  have  been  im- 
pressed on  our  memories  from  the  "  oft 
told  "  nursery  tales,  yet  we  have  lately 
had  it  in  our  power  to  become  more  inti- 
mately, and,  as  it  were,  personally  ac- 
quainted with  this  great  chieftain  of  out- 
laws, through  the  medium  of  the  author 
of  "  Waverley,"  who  has  introduced 
"  friend  Locksley  "  to  the  readers  of  his 
"  Ivanhoe,"  in  such  natural  and  glowing 
colours,  as  to  render  the  forgetting  hira 
utterly  impossible. 

HENRY  BRANDON. 
Leadenhall-street. 


BELLMAN'S  VERSES 
Upon  Christmas-eve. 
This  night  (you  may  my  Almanack  believe) 
Is  the  return  of  famoua  Christmas  -eve  : 


1639 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  24. 


1640 


Ye  virgins  then  your  cleanly  rooms  prepare, 
And  let  the  windows  bays  and  laurel  wear  ; 
Your  Rosemary  preserve  to  dress  your  Beef, 
Nor  forget  me,  which  I  advise  in  chief. 

Another  on  the  same. 
Now,  Mrs.  Betty,  pray  get  up  and  rise, 
If  you  intend  to  make  your  Christmas  pies  : 
Scow'ring  the  pewter  falls  to  Cisley'a  share ; 
And  Margery  must  to  clean  the  house  take 

care  : 

And  let  Doll's  ingenuity  be  seen, 
In  decking  all  the  windows  up  with  green.* 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remind  the 
reader,  that  several  notices  of  this  day 
have  been  already  presented  ;  yet,  many 
as  they  are,  there  are  others  from  whence 
a  few  may  be  gleaned,  with  the  proba- 
bility of  their  still  being  acceptable. 

With  Mr.  Leigh  Hunt,  who  is  fore- 
most among  modern  admirers  of  the  old 
festivals  of  the  season,  Christmas  is,  as 
it  ought  to  be,  the  chief.  His  papers,  in 
1817,  which  occasioned  the  following 
letter,  are  not  at  hand  to  cite  ;  and,  per- 
haps if  they  were,  the  excellent  feelings 
of  his  "  fair  correspondent "  might  be 
preferred  to  some  of  even  his  descrip- 
tions, 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Examiner. 
Sir, — I  am  of  the  number  of  your  read- 
ers who  recollect,  with  pleasure  and  grati- 
tude, your  papers  last  year  on  keeping 
Christmas,  and  I  looked  forward  with  a 
hope,  which  has  not  been  disappointed, 
that  you  would  take  some  notice  again  of 
its  return.  I  feel  unwilling  to  intrude  on 
your  valuable  time,  yet  I  cannot  refrain 
from  thanking  you  for  your  cheering  at- 
tempts to  enforce  a  due  observance  of 
this  delightful  season.  I  thank  you  in 
my  own  name,  and  I  thank  you  in  the 
name  of  those  to  .whom  the  spring  of  life 
is  opening  in  all  its  natural  and  heartfelt 
enjoyments.  I  thank  you  in  the  name  of 
the  more  juvenile  part  of  the  holyday 
circle,  who,  released  from  the  thraldom  of 
school  discipline-,  are  come  home,  (that 
expressive  word,)  to  bask  awhile  in  the 
eyes  and  the  smiles  of  their  fond  parents  ; 
and,  lastly,  I  thank  you  on  behalf  of  those 
who  have  none  to  plead  for  them,  and  to 
whom  pleasure  is  but  a  name — the  sick  at 
heart  and  sick  in  body,  the  friendless 
and  the  fatherless,  the  naked  and  the 
hungry.  To  all  of  these  I  hope  to  ex- 
i€nd  a  portion  of  happiness  and  of  help; 

»  Bellman'*  Treasury,  1707. 


*vith  a  heart  full  of  gratitude  to  HIM  who 
has  "  cast  my  lot  in  a  goodly  heritage." 
I  have,  under  this  feeling,  been  for  some 
days  past  busily  employed  in  preparing- 
for  passing  Christmas  worthily.  My  beef 
and  mince-meat  are  ready,  (of  which,  with 
some  warm  garments,  my  poor  neigh- 
bours will  partake,)  and  my  holly  and 
mistletoe  gathered ;  for  I  heartily  approve 
of  your  article,  and  am  of  opinion  that  to 
the  false  refinement  of  modern  times  may 
be  traced  the  loss  of  that  primitive  and 
pure  simplicity  which  characterised  "  other 
times."  To  your  list  of  "  authorities  '*  I 
beg  leave  to  add  that  learned  and  truly 
Christian  prelate,  Bishop  Hall,  who,  in 
his  "  Contemplation  on  the  Marriage  of 
Cana,"  so  strongly  enforces  the  doctrine, 
that  the  Creator  is  best  honoured  in  a 
wise  and  rational  enjoyment  of  the  crea- 
ture. 

Cordially  wishing  you  the  chief  of  sub- 
lunary blessings,  i.  e,  health  of  body  and 
health  of  mind,  I  remain,  Sir,  your 
obliged  and  constant  reader, 

A  WIFE,  A  MOTHER,  AND 

AN  ENGLISHWOMAN. 
South  Lambeth,  Dec.  21,  1818. 


In  Mr.  Nichols's  Collection  of  Poems 
there  are  some  pleasant  verses,  which 
seem  to  have  proceeded  from  his  own 
pen: — 

To  H Y  M N,  ESQ. 

On  his  refusing  a  CHRISTMAS  DINNER 
with  a  Friend,  on  pretence  of  gallanting 
come  Ladies  to  Leicester. 

When  you  talk  about  Leicester 

I  hope  your're  a  jester. 

Why  desert  an  old  friend, 

For  no  purpose  or  end  ? 

But  to  play  the  gallant, 

With  belles  who  will  flaunt, 

And  who,  cruel  as  vain, 

Will  rejoice  in  your  pain  J 

No — Come  to  our  pudding 

We'll  put  all  things  good  in 

Give  you  beef,  the  sirloin, 

If  with  us  you  will  dine  ; 

Perhaps  too  a  capon, 

With  greens  and  with  bacon  : 

Give  you  port  and  good  sherry, 

To  make  your  heart  merry. 

Then  sit  down  to  a  pool, 

'Stead  of  playing  the  fool ; 

Or  a  rubber  at  whist, 

But  for  this  as  you  list. 

Next,  give  muffins  and  tea, 

As  you  sometimes  give  me. 

As  for  supper,  you  know, 

A  ootato,  or  so ; 


1641 


THE  EVERY -DAY  BOOK.— DECEIvlBER  24. 


1642 


Or  a  bit  of  cold  ham, 
As  at  nioht  we  ne'er  cram  ; 
Or  a  tart,  if  you  please, 
With  a  slice  of  mild  cheese. 
Then  we'll  sing  —  sing,  did  I  say  ? 
Yes  :  "The  Vicar  of  Bray;"* 
And,  what  I  know  you  don't  hate 
"  My  fond  shepherds  of  late  :"t 
Nor  think  me  a  joker, 
If  I  add  «  Ally  Croaker."  t 
In  fine,  we'll  sing  and  delight  ye, 
Till  you  say,  "  Friends,  good  night  t'  ye.' 
1780.  N.J. 


Whether  these  verses  were  written  by  Mr.  Nichols 
or  not,  the  mention  of  his  name  occasions  it  to  be 
observed,  that  about  a  week  before  the  present  date 
he  dii  d,  at  the  age  of  eighty-five. 

The  editor  of  this  humble  work,  who  has  derived 
much  assistance  in  its  progress  from  the  "  Gentle- 
man's Magazine,"  which  Mr.  Nichols  edited  tor 
nearly  half  a  century,  would  omit  to  do  rightly  if  he 
were  not  thus  to  acknowledge  the  obligation.  Nor 
can  lie  recollect  without  feelings  of  respectful  grati- 
tude, that  his  name  appeared  a  few  years  ago  in  the 
"Domestic  Occurrences"  of  the  "Gentleman's  Ma- 
gazine" with  fidelity  to  its  readers,unaccompaiiied  by 
remarks  which  some  of  its  admirers  might,  perhaps", 
at  that  time  have  admired.  Its  critical  pages 
subsequently  distinguished  the  volume  on  "  Ancient 
Mysteries"  by  approval;  and  since  then  they  have 
been  pleased  to  favour,  and  even  praise,  the  publica- 
tion of  which  this  is  the  last  sheet.  There  was  no 


•  ••     nit,     ma    ai-iivc    uiiiics    ^Jctuurtiiv     atiu    MULUiiuiy 

devolved  on    his   successor:    may  that    gentleman 
live  as  long  in  health  and  wealth,  and  be  remem- 
bered with  as  high  honour,  as  his  revered  father. 
Dec.  23,  1826.  W.  H. 

GLASTONBURY  THORN. 

On  Christmas-eve,  (new  style,)  1753,  a 
vast  concourse  of  people  attended  the 
noted  thorn,  but  to  their  great  disap- 
pointment there  was  no  appearance  of  its 
blowing,  which  made  them  watch  it  nar- 
rowly the  5th  of  January,  the  Christmas- 
day,  (old  style,)  when  it  blowed  as  usual. 
— London  Evening  Post. 

On  the  same  evening,  at  Quainton,  in 
Buckinghamshire,  above  two  thousand 
people  went,  with  lanterns  and  candles, 
to  view  a  blackthotn  in  that  neighbour- 
hood, and  which  was  remembered  to  be  a 
slip  from  the  famous  Glastonbury  thorn, 

*  "  In  good  king  Charles's  golden  days." 
This  is  said  to  have  been  written  by  an  officer  in 
colonel  Fuller's  regiment,  in  the  reign  of  king 
George  I.  It  is  founded  on  an  historical  fact,  and, 
though  it  reflects  no  great  honour  on  the  hero 
of  the  poem,  is  humorously  expressive  of  the  com- 
plexion of  the  times  in  the  successive  reigns  from 
Charles  II.  to  George  I. 

t  "  My  fond  shepherds  of  late  were  so  blest 
A  favourite  air  in  L)r.  Arne's  "Eliza." 

J  "  There  lived  a  youth  in  Ballan  o  Crazy." 
This  song  is  ascribed  to  a  lady  of  great  quality:  it 
does    not,    however,    abound    with    the   wit    w'hich 
usually  flows  from   female  pent ;   but  it  admits  of 
bc.ng  sung  with  great  humour. 


and  that  it  always  budded  on  the  24th,  was 
full  blown  the  next  day,  and  went  all  of! 
at  night.  The  people  finding  no  appear- 
ance of  a  bud,  it  was  agreed  by  all,  that 
December  25  (new  style)  could  not  be 
the  right  Christmas-day,  and  accordingly 
refused  going  to  church,  and  treating  their 
friends  on  that  day  as  usual :  at  length 
the  affcir  became  so  serious,  that  the  mi- 
nisters of  the  neighbouring  villages,  in 
order  to  appease  them,  thought  it  prudent 
to  give  notice,  that  the  Old  Christmas-day 
should  be  kept  holy  as  before.* 

This  famous  hawthorn,  which  grev\  on 
a  hill  in  the  church-yard  of  Glastonbury- 
abbey,  it  has  been  said,  sprung  from  the. 
staff  of  St.  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  who 
having  fixed  it  in  the  ground  with  his  own 
hand  on  Christmas-day,  the  staff  took 
root  immediately,  put  forth  leaves,  and 
the  next  day  was  covered  with  milk-white 
blossoms.  It  has  been  added,  that  this 
thorn  continued  to  blow  every  Christmas- 
day  during  a  long  series  of  years,  and 
that  slips  from  the  original  plant  are  still 
preserved,  and  continue  to  blow  every 
Christmas-day  to  the  present  time. 

There  certainly  was  in  the  abbey  church- 
yard a  hawthorn-tree,  which  blossomed  in 
winter,  and  was  cut  down  in  the  time  of 
the  civil  wars  :  but  that  it  always  blossom- 
ed on  Christmas-day  was  a  mere  tale  of 
the  monks,  calculated  to  inspire  the  vulgar 
with  notions  of  the  sanctity  of  the  place. 
There  are  several  of  this  species  of  Ihom 
in  England,  raised  from  haws  sent  from 
the  east,  where  it  is  common.  One  of 
our  countrymen,  the  ingenious  Mr.  Millar, 
raised  many  plants  from  haws  brought 
from  Aleppo,  and  all  proved  to  be  what 
are  called  Glastonbury  thorns.  This  exotic, 
or  eastern  thorn,  differs  from  our  common 
hawthorn  in  putting  out  its  leaves  very 
early  in  spring,  and  floweiing  twice  a 
year ;  for  in  mild  seasons  it  often  flowers 
in  November  or  December,  and  again  at 
the  usual  time  of  the  common  sort;  but 
the  stories  that  are  told  of  its  budding, 
blossoming,  and  fading  on  Christmas-day 
are  ridiculous,  and  only  monkish  legends.f 


HODENING  "  IN  KENT. 

At  Ramsgate,  in  Kent,  they  begin  tht 
festivities  of  Christmas  by  a  curious  mu- 

*  Gentleman's  Magazine. 

Communicated  by  P.  R.  C.   from  Boswtll'.s  An- 
tiquities  of  England  and  Wales 


1643 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  25. 


1C44 


sical  procession.  A  party  of  young  people 
procure  the  head  of  a  dead  horse,  which 
is  affixed  to  a  pole  about  four  feet  in 
length,  a  string  is  tied  to  the  lower  jaw,  a 
horse  cloth  is  then  attached  to  the  whole, 
under  which  one  of  the  party  gets,  and 
by  frequently  pulling  the  string  keeps  up 
a  loud  snapping  noise,  and  is  accompanied 
by  the  rest  of  the  party  grotesquely  ha- 
bited and  ringing  hand-bells.  They  thus 
proceed  from  house  to  house,  sounding 
their  bells  and  singing  carols  and  songs. 
They  are  commonly  gratified  with  beer 
and  cake,  or  perhaps  with  money.  This 
is  provincidlly  called  a  hodening ;  and 
the  figure  above  described  a  "  hoden/'  or 
wooden  horse. 

This  curious  ceremony  is  also  observed 
in  the  Isle  of  Thanet  on  Christmas-eve, 
and  is  supposed  to  be  an  ancient  relic  ot 
a  festival  ordained  to  commemorate  our 
Saxon  ancestors'  landing  in  that  island.* 


CHRISTMAS  POTTAGE. 

Amongst  the  customs  observed  on 
Christmas-eve,  the  Venetians  eat  a  kind 
of  pottage,  which  they  call  torta  de  la- 
sagne, composed  of  oil,  onions,  paste, 
parsley,  pine  nuts,  raisins,  currants,  and 
candied  orange  peel. 

MARSEILLES'  FESTIVAL. 

Many  festivals,  abrogated  in  France 
by  the  revolution,  were  revived  under 
Buonaparte.  Accordingly,  at  Marseilles 
on  Christmas- eve  all  the  members  of  any 
family  resident  in  the  same  town  were 
invited  to  supper  at  the  house  of  the 
senior  of  the  family,  the  supper  being 
entirely  au  maigre,  that  is,  without  meat, 
— after  which  they  all  went  together  to  a 
solemn  mass,  which  was  performed  in  all 
the  churches  at  midnight :  this  ceremony 
was  called  in  Provence  faire  calene. 
After  mass  the  party  dispersed  and  retired 
to  their  respective  houses ;  and  the  next 
day,  after  attending  high  mass  in  the 
morning,  they  assembled  at  dinner  at  the 
same  house  where  they  had  supped  the 
night  before,  a  turkey  being,  as  in  Eng- 
land, an  established  part  of  the  dinner. 
Tho  evening  was  concluded  with  cards, 
dancing,  or  any  other  amusement  usual 
on  holydays.  Formerly  there  had  been 
the  midnight  mass,  which  was  often  irre- 

*  Busby's  Concert  Room  anil  Orchestra  Anccdot.cs, 


gularly  conducted,  and  therefore  on  the 
revival  of  the  old  custom  it  was  omitted.* 


CHRISTMAS. 
\yith  footstep  slow,  in  furry  pall  yclad, 

His  brows  enwreathed  with  holly  never  sere 
Old  Christmas  comes,  to  close  the  wainea 

year; 
And  aye  the  shepherd's  heart  to  make  right 

glad; 
Who,  when  his  teeming  flocks  are  homeward 

had, 
To  blazing  hearth  repairs,   and   nutbrown 

beer, 
And  views  well  pleased  the  ruddy  prattlers 

dear 
Hwg    4he   grey    mungrel;.   meanwhile    maid 

and  lad1 
Squabble  for  roasted  crabs.     Thee,  Sire,  we 

hail, 

Whether  thine  aged  limbs  thou  dost  ca- 
sh roud 
In  vest  of  snowy  white  and  hoary  veil, 

Or  wrap'st  thy  visage  in  a  sable  cloud ; 
Thee  we  proclaim  with  mirth  and  cheer,  nor 

fail 

To  greet  thee  well  with  many  a  carol  loud. 
Bamfylde. 

CAROLS-. 

The  practice  of  singing  canticles  or 
carols  in  the  vulgar  tongue  on  Christmas- 
eve,  and  thence  called  noels  in  the  c9un- 
try  churches  of  France,  had  its  origin 
about  the  time  that  the  common  people 
ceased  to  understand  Latin.  The  word 
noel  is  derived  from  nut  alls,  and  signified 
originally  a  cry  of  joy  at  Christmas.t 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  37  •  87 

Bmmter  25. 

CHRISTMAS-DAY. 

BELLMAN'S  VERSES,  1707, 

Upon  Christmas  Day. 

To  the  Shepherds. 

Go,  happy  shepherds,  leave  your  flocks  and  hie 
To  Bethlem,  where  your  infant  Lord  doth  lie: 
And  when  you've  view'd  his  Sacred  Person 

well, 

Spare  not  aloud  what  you  have  seen  to  tel.. 
Write  volumes  of  these  things,  and  let  them 

bear 

The  title  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar : 
This  I  assure  you  never  shepherds  knew 
With  all  their' studies  half  so  much  AS  you.J 

*  Miss  PI  umpire. 

t  Burney's  History  of  Music. 

t  Bellman's  Treasury 


1645 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  25. 


WHITEHAVEN  CUSTOMS. 


To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Whitehaven,  4th  Sept.  1826. 
Sir, — You  furnished  your  readers  last 
Christmas  with  a  dish,  greatly  up-heaped, 
of  information  regarding  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  kept  in  various  parts  of  the 
kingdom.  I  enclose  herein  a  printed 
copy  of  the  play,  which  is  said,  or  rather 
sung,  at  and  about  that  time,  by  numbers 
of  boys  in  this  town.  The  comedians,  of 
which  there  are  many  companies,  parade 
the  streets,  and  ask  at  almost  every  door 
if  the  mummers  are  wanted.  They  are 
dressed  in  the  most  grotesque  fashion; 
their  heads  adorned  with  high  paper  caps, 
gilt  and  spangled,  and  their  bodies  with 
ribbons  of  various  colours,  while  St. 
George  and  the  prince  are  armed  with  ten 
swords.  The  "  mysterie  "  (query  ?)  ends 
with  a  song,  and  afterwards  a  collection  is 
made.  This  is  the  only  relic  of  ancient 
times  which  exists  in  this  town,  except- 
ing, indeed,  it  be  the  Waites — a  few  per- 
sons who  parade  the  streets  for  a  fortnight 
or  three  weeks  before  Christmas,  and  play 
upon  violins  one  or  two  lively  jig  tunes, 
and  afterwards  call  upon  the  inhabitants 
•for  a  few  pence  each.  The  same  persons, 
when  they  hear  of  a  marriage,  or  of  the 
arrival  from  abroad  of  a  sea-faring  man, 
regularly  attend  and  fiddle  away  till  they 
raise  the  person  or  persons ;  and  for  this 
they  expect  a  trifling  remuneration. 

I  am  satisfied  you  will  join  me,  in  sur- 
prise, that  for  so  great  a  number  of  years, 
such  a  mass  of  indecent  vulgarity  as 
"  Alexander  and  the  king  of  Egypt,"  should 
been  used  without  alteration. 

Upon  the  death  of  any  individual,  poor 
or  rich,  in  this  town,  and  the  day  before 
the  funeral,  the  parish  clerk,  or  the  clerk 
of  the  church  in  whose  church-yard  the 
corpse  is  to  be  interred,  goes  round  the 
town,  with  or  without  mourning  as  the 
case  may  be,  and  rings  a  bell,  like  a  bell- 
man, and  thus  announces  his  purpose : 
"  All  friends  and  neighbours  are  desired 
to  attend  the  corpse  of  A.  B.  from  Queen- 
street  to  St.  James's  church  to-morrow 
afternoon  at  four  o'clock."  -  ^ 

Some  of  these  hints  may  be  of  use  to 
you — if  so  I  shall  rejoice  ;  for  a  kinder- 
hearted  publication  than  yours  I  never 
perused. 

For  the  present  I  am,  Mr.  Hone, 

Yours,  most  respectfully, 
AN  ADMIRER  OF  YOUR  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. 


1646 

The  tract  accompanying  the  preceding 
communication  is  entitled  "Alexander 
and  the  King  of  Egypt;  a  mock  Play,  as 
it  is  acted  by  the  Mummers  every  Christ- 
mas. Whitehaven.  Printed  by  T.  Wilson, 
King-street."  Eight  pages,  8vo.  An 
opportunity  is  thus  obligingly  afforded  of 
making  the  following  extracts  : 


Act  I.  Scene  I. 
Enter  Alexander 
Alexander  speaks 

Silence,  brave  gentlemen,  if  you  will  give  an 

eye, 

Alexander  is  my  name,  I'll  sing  a  tragedy  ; 
A  ramble  here  I  took  the  country  for  to  see, 
Three  actors  I  have  brought,  so  far  from  Italy  . 
The  first  I  do  present,  he  is  a  noble  king, 
He' st  just  come  from  the  wars,  good  tidings  he 

doth  bring ; 

The  next  that  doth  come  in  he  is  a  doctor  good, 
Had  it  not  been  for  him  I'd  surely  lost  my 

blood. 

Old  Dives  is  the  next,  a  miser  you  may  se«, 
Who,  by  lending  of  his  gold,  is  come  to  po- 
verty ; 
So,  gentlemen,  you  see,   out  actors  will   go 

round, 

Stand  off  a  little  while  more  pastime  will  be 
found. 

Act  I.     Scene  II 
Enter  Acton 

Room,  room,  brave  gallants,  give  us  room  to 
sport, 

For  in  this  room  we  wish  for  to  resort, 

Resort  and  to  repeat  to  you  our  merry  rhyme, 

For  remember,  good  sirs,  this  is  Christmas 
time 

The  time  to  cut  up  goose-pies  now  doth  ap- 
pear, 

So  we  are  come  to  act  our  merry  Christmas 
here, 

At  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  and  beat  of  the 
drum 

Make  room,  brave  gentlemen,  and  let  our  ac- 
tors come. 

We  are  the  merry  actors  that  traverse  the 
street ; 

We  are  the  merry  actors  that  fight  for  our 
meat; 

We  are  the  merry  actors  that  show  pleasant 

Play> 

Step  in  thou  King  of  Egypt  and  clear  the  way. 
K.  of  Egypt.    I  am  the  King  of  Egypt  as 

plainly  doth  appear, 

And  Prince  George  he  is  my  only  son  and  heir, 
Step  in  therefore,   my  son,  and  act  thy  part 

with  me, 
And  show  forth  thy  fame  before  the  company- 


1647 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— -DECEMBER  25. 


P.  George.  I  am  Prince  George,  a  champion 

brave  and  bold, 
For  with  my  spear  I've  won  three  crov/ns  of 

gold, 

Twas  1  that  brought  the  dragon  to  the  slaugh- 
ter, 
And  I   that   gain'd   the  Egyptian   monarch's 

daughter. 

In  Egypt's  fields  I  prisoner  long  was  kept, 
But  by  my  valour  I  from  them  escap'd; 
I  sounded  loud  at  the  gate  of  a  divine, 
And  out  came  a  giant  of  no  good  design, 
He  gave  me  a  blow  which  almost  struck  me 

dead, 

But  I  up  with  my  sword  and  cut  off  his  head. 
Alex.  Hold,  Slacker,  hold,  pray  do  not  be 

so  hot, 
For  in  this  spot  thou  know'st  not  who  thou'st 

got, 
T  is  1  that's  to  hash  thee  and  smash  thee  as 

small  as  flies, 

And  send  thee  to  Satan  to  make  mince  pies. 
Mince  pies  hot,  mince  pies  cold, 
I'll  send  thee  to  Satan  'ere  thou'rt  three  days 

old; 

But  hold,  Prince  George,  before  yeu  go  away, 
Either  you  or  I  must  die  this  bloody  day, 
Some  mortal  wounds  thou  shall  receive  by  me, 
So  let  us  fight  it  out  roost  manfully. 

Act  II.     Scene  I 

Alexander  and  Prince  George  fight,  the  latter 
is  wounded  and  falls. 

King  of  Egypt  speaks. 

Curs'd  Christian,  what  is  this  thou  hast  done  ? 
Thou  hast  ruin'd  me  by  killing  my  best  son. 

Alex.  He  gave  me  a  challenge,  why  should 

I  him  deny  ? 
How  high  he  was,  but  see,  how  low  he  lies. 

K.  of  Egypt.  O  Sambo,  Sambo,  help  me 

now, 

For  I  was  never  more  in  need, 
For  thee  to  stand  with  sword  in  hand, 
And  to  fight  at  my  command. 

Doctnr.  Yes,  my  liege,  I  will  thee  obey, 
A  nd  by  my  sword  I  hope  to  win  the  day ; 
Yonder  stands  he  who  has  kill'd  my  master's 

son, 

And  ha*  his  ruin  thoughtlessly  begun, 
I'll  try  if  he  be  sprung  from  royal  blood, 
And  through  his  body  make  an  ocean  flood, 
Gentlemen,  you  see  my  sword's  point  is  broke, 
Or  else  I'd  run  it  through  that  villain's  throat. 

K.  of  Egypt.  Is  there  never  a  doctor  to  be 

'bund, 
That  can  cure  my  son  of  his  deadly  wound  ? 

Doctor.  Yes  there  is  a  doctor  to  be  found, 
That  can  cure  your  son  of  his  deadly  wound 

K.  of  Egypt.  What  diseases  can  he  cure  ? 

[The  doctor  relates  in  ribald  lines  his  va- 
rious remedies,  and  the  scene  ends.] 


Act  II.     Scene  II. 

Prince  George  arises. 

Prince  George  speaks. 

O  horrible  !  terrible  I  the  like  was  never  seen, 
A  man  drove  out  of  seven  senses  into  fifteen, 
And  out  of  fifteen  into  four  score, 

0  horrible !  terrible  !  the  like  was  ne'er  before. 
Alex.  Thou  silly  ass,  that  liv'st  on  grass, 

dost  thou  abuse  a  stranger  1 

1  live  in  hopes  to  buy  new  ropes,  and  tic  thy 

nose  to  a  manger. 
P.  George.  Sir,  unto  you  I  bend. 
Alex.  Stand  off  thou  slave,  I  think  thee  not 

my  friend ; 
P.  George.  A  slave !  Sir,  that's  for  me  by 

far  too  base  a  name, 
That    word  deserves    to   stab    thine   honour's 

fame! 
Alex.  To  be  stabb'd,  sir,  is  least  of  all  my 

care, 
Appoint  your  time  and  place,  I'll  meet  you 

there. 
P.  George.  I'll  cross  the  water  at  the  hour 

of  five. 

Alex.  I'll  meet  you  there,  sir,  if  I  be  alive. 
P.  George.    But  stop,  sir,  I'll  wish  you  a 

wife  both  lusty  and  young, 
Can  talk  Dutch,  French,  and  the  Italian  tongue. 
Alex.  I'll  have  none  such. 
P.  George.  Why  don't  you  love  your  learn- 
ing? 
Alex.  Yes,  I  love  my  learning  as  I  love  my 

life, 
I  love  a  learned  scholar,  but   not  a  learned 

wifej 
Stand  off,  &c. 

K.  of  Egypt.  Sir,  to  express  thy  beauty  I'm 

not  able, 

For  thy  face  shines  like  the  very  kitchen  table, 

Thy  teeth  are  no  whiter  than  the  charcoal,  &e. 

Alex.  Stand  off  thou  dirty  dog,  or  by  my 

sword  thou'lt  die, 

I'll  make  thy  body  full  of  holes,  and  cause  thy 
buttons  to  fly. 

Act  II.     Scene  III 
King  of  Egypt  fights,  and  is  killed. 

Enter  Prince  George. 
Oh  !  what  is  here  ?  oh  !  what  is  to  be  done  ? 
Our  king  is  slain,  the  crown  is  likewise  gone  ; 
Take  up  his  body,  bear  it  hence  away, 
For  in  this  place  no  longer  shall  it  stay. 

The  Conclusion. 
Bouncer  Buckler,  velvet's  dear, 
And  Christmas  comes  but  once  a  year, 
TlTough  when  it  comes  it  brings  good  cheer, 
Buc  farewell  Christmas  once  a  year. 
Farewell,  farewell,  adieu  !  friendship  and  unity, 
I  hope  we  have  made  sport,  and  pleas'd  the 

company ; 

But,  gentlemen,  you  see  we're  but  actors  four, 
We've  done  our  best,  and  the  best  can  do  no 
more. 


.649  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  25  1650 

HORNCHURCH.  of  the  church.     A  few  years  ago  it  had 

been  suffered  to  fall  into  decay ;   but  in 

For  the  Every-Day  Book.  ^  year  1824  it  wag  renewed  by  the  pre- 

On  Christmas-day,  the  following  custom  sent  vicar.     This   church    formerly    be- 

has   been   observed   at    Hornchurch,   in  longed   to   the    convent    on    Mount  St. 

Essex, from  time  immemorial.  The  lessee  Bernard  in  Savoy;  and  it  has  been  sug- 

of  the  tithes,  which  belong  to  New  Col-  gested,  that  the  ox  s  head,  with  the  horns, 

lege,   Oxford,    supplies    a    boar's    head  may  perhaps  be  the  arms  or  crest  of  the 

drersed,  and  garnished  with  bay-leaves,  convent,  and  that  the  custom,  as  well  as 

&c.     In   the  afternoon,  it  is  carried   in  the  name  of  lhe  Place>  originated  from 

procession  into  the  Mill  Field,  adjoining  that  circumstance.     I  shall  be  happy  to 

the  church-yard,  where  it  is  wrestled  for;  be  informed  whether  this  suggestion  be 

and  it  is  afterwards  feasted  upon,  at  one  Bunded  on  matter  of  fact ;  and  if  not,  to 

of  the  public-houses,  hy  the  rustic  con-  ™hat  other  cause  the  custom  can  be  as- 

queror  and  his  friends,  with  all  the  merri-  signed. 

rnent  peculiar  to  the  season.     And  here  LJNOTUS, 
it  may  be  observed,  that  there  is  another 

custom,  at  this  place,  of  having  a  model  Of  the   ancient  doings  of  Christmas, 

of  an  ox's  head,  with  horns,  affixed  on  tnere  »«  a  bountiful  imagining,  by  a  mo- 

the  top  of  the  eastern  end  of  the  chancel  dern  writer,  in  the  subjoined  verses  : — 

The  great  King  Arthur  made  a  sumptuous  feast, 

And  held  his  Royal  Christmas  at  Carlisle, 
And  thither  came  the  vassals,  most  and  least, 

From  every  corner  of  this  British  Isle  ; 
And  all  were  entertained,  both  man  and  beast, 

According  to  their  rank,  in  proper  style ; 
The  steeds  were  fed  and  littered  in  the  stable 
The  ladies  and  the  knights  sat  down  to  table. 

The  bill  of  fare  (as  you  may  well  suppose) 

Was  suited  to  those  plentiful  old  times, 
Before  our  modern  luxuries  arose, 

With  truffles  and  ragouts,  and  various  crimes ; 
And  therefore,  from  the  original  in  prose 

I  shall  arrange  the  catalogue  in  rhymes  : 
They  served  up  salmon,  venison,  and  wild  boars 
By  hundreds,  and  by  dozens,  and  by  scores. 

Hogsheads  of  honey,  kilderkins  of  mustard, 

Muttons,  and  fatted  beeves,  and  bacon  swine  ; 
Herons  and  bitterns,  peacocks,  swan,  and  bustard, 
,    Teal,  mallard,  pigeons,  widgeons,  and  in  fine 
Plum-p'iddings,  pancakes,  apple-pies,  and  custard 

And    itrewithal  they  drank  good  Gascon  wine, 
With  n  ead ,  and  ale,  and  cider  of  our  own  ; 
For  porter,  punch,  and  negus,  were  not  known. 

sorts  of  people  there  were  seen  together, 

All  sorts  of  characters,  all  sorts  of  dresses  ; 
The  fool  with  fox's  tail  and  peacock's  feather, 

Pilgrims,  and  penitents,  and  grave  burgesses ; 
The  country  people  with  their  coats  of  leather, 

Vintners  and  victuallers  with  cans  and  messes'; 
Grooms,  archers,  varlets,  falconers,  and  yeomen, 
Damsels  and  waiting-maids,  and  waiting- women.  WHISTLECRAFT^ 


SUBTERRANEAN  CHRISTMAS  BELLS.  hundred  years  ago,  which  swallowed  up 

T>       r,     T  a  whole  village,  together  with  the  church. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book.         Formerly,  it  was  a  custom  for  people 

Dear  Sir, — Near  Raleigh,  in  Netting-  to  assemble  in  this  valley,  on  Christmas- 

hamshire,  there  is  a  valley,  said  to  have  day  morning,  to  listen  to  the  ringing  o 

been   caused  by  an   earthquake    seveial  the   bells   of  tbc  church   beneath    them  I 


1651 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  26,  27. 


1652 


This  it  was  positively  asserted  might  be 
heard  by  putting  the  ear  to  the  ground, 
and  harkening  attentively.  Even  now,  it 
is  usual  on  Christmas  morning  for  old 
men  and  women  f.o  tell  their  children  and 
young  friends  to  go  to  the  valley,  stoop 
down,  and  hear  the  bells  ring  merrily. 

I  am,  &c.          C.  T. 

CHRISTMAS  AT  CHRIST'S  HOSPITAL. 

In  an  Essay  on  Christ's  Hospital, 
"  Let  me  have  leave  to  remember/'  says 
Mr.  Lamb,  "  the  festivities  at  Christmas, 
when  the  richest  of  us  would  club  our 
stock  to  have  a  gaudy  day,  sitting  round 
the  fire,  replenished  to  the  height  with 
logs ;  and  the  pennyless,  and  he  that 
could  contribute  nothing,  partook  in  all 
the  mirth,  and  in  some  of  the  substan- 
tialities of  the  feasting;  the  carol  sung  by 
night  at  that  time  of  the  year,  which, 
when  a  young  boy,  I  have  so  often  laid 
awake  from  seven  (the  hour  of  going  to 
bed)  till  ten,  when  it  was  sung  by  the 
older  boys  and  monitors,  and  have  listened 
to  it  in  their  rude  chanting,  till  I  have  been 
transported  to  the  fields  of  Bethlehem, 
and  the  song  which  was  sung  at  that  sea- 
son by  the  Angels'  voices  to  the  shep- 
herds." 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature 37-57. 


Smrnber  26. 

ST.  STEPHEN. 

For   some  remarkable  observances  on 
this  festival,  see  vol.  i.'  1643. 

GEORGE  BARNWELL. 
The  representation  of  this  tragedy  was 
omitted    in    the   Christmas    holidays   of 
1819,  at  both  the  Theatres,  for  the  first 
time. 


When  Mr.  Ross  performed  the  charac- 
ter of  George  Barnwell,  in  1 752,  the  son 
of  an  eminent  merchant  was  so  struck 
with  certain  resemblances  to  his  own  pe- 
rilous situation,  (arising  from  the  arts  of  a 
real  Millwood,}  that  his  agitation  brought 
on  a  dangerous  illness,  in  the  course  of 
which  he  confessed  his  error,  was  for- 
given by  his  father,  and  was  furnished 
with  the  means  of  repairing  the  pecuniary 


wrongs  he  had  privately  done  his  em- 
ployer. Mr.  Ross  says,  "  Though  I  never 
knew  his  name,  or  saw  him  to  my  know- 
ledge, I  had  for  nine  or  ten  years,  at  my 
benefit,  a  note  sealed  up  with  ten  guineas. 
and  these  words — "  A  tribute  of  gratitude 
from  one  who  was  highly  obliged,  and 
saved  from  ruin,  by  witnessing  Mr.  "Ross's 
performance  of  George  Barnwell." 

This  year,  1742,  celebrated  in  dramatic 
annals  as  the  year  wherein  Mr.  Garrick 
first  appeared  on  the  stage,  the  theatrical 
season  at  Goodman's-fields  was  169 
nights;  Garrick  played  159  nights  ;  and, 
it  is  remarkable  that  the  theatre  was  open 
on  Christmas-day.  The  play  was  the 
"  Fop's  Fortune,"  and  Garrick  performed 
Clodio. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature    ....  38  •  40. 

JBmmtor  27. 

ST.  JOHN. 

For  wine  manchets  on  this  festival  to 
preserve  the  eaters  from  poison  annually, 
see  vol.  i.  1647. 

THE  CLAYEN  CUP. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every- Day  Book. 

January  12,1825. 

Sir, — In  your  account  of  the  ceremo- 
nies now  practised  in  Devon  at  Christmas, 
regarding  the  apple-trees,*  you  are  wrong 
in  calling  it  a  "  clayen  cup,"  it  should  be 
a  dome  or  clomen  cup  r  thus  all  earthen- 
ware shops  and  china  shops  are  called  by 
the  middling  class  and  peasantry  clome 
or  clomen  shops,  and  the  same  in  markets 
where  earthenware  is  displayed  in  Devon, 
are  called  dome-standings.  I  feel  as- 
sured you  will  place  this  note  to  the  right 
account,  a  desire  that  so  useful  and  in- 
teresting a  work  should  be  as  perfect  as 
possible. 

Perhaps  the  spirit  of  Christmas  is  kept 
up  more  in  Devon,  even  now,  than  in  any 
other  part  of  England. 

I  am,  &c. 

AN  EXONIAN. 


NATURALISTS*  CALEJNDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  .  .  .  36  •  75, 

*  See  vol.  i.  4 


1653 


THE  EVEHY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  28,  29,  30. 


1654 


INNOCENTS. 

How  children  were  annually  whipped 
on  this  festival,  and  of  its  reputed  luck 
as  a  day,  see  vol.  i.  1648. 


NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ....  36  •  10. 


29. 


"  CHRISTMAS  GAMBOLS." 

A  play,  with  this  title,  appears  to  have 
once  existed  in  MS.  It  is  noticed  in  an 
early  quarto  auction  catalogue,  printed 
before  1700,  though  unfortunately  with- 
out a  title,  penes  me  ;  the  catalogue  con- 
tains a  rich  sprinkling  of  English  poetry, 
and  this  play,  with  others,  occurs  in  Lot 
40,.  amid  a  rare,  though  not  very  copious 
collection  of  old  plays  and  miscellaneous 
tracts. 

J.  H.  B. 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature.  ...  38  •  35. 


fflmmter  30. 

The  following  communication,  though 
relating  to  an  earlier  period  of  the  year, 
is  now  inserted,  in  order  to  include  it,  as 
its  subject  requires,  in  the  present  work. 

AVINGHAM  FAIR  AND  SPORTS. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 

Sir,  —  As  I  have  frequently  derived 
much  pleasure  from  the  amusing  descrip- 
tions of  local  customs  in  your  Every-Day 
Book,  I  take  the  liberty  of  forwarding 
some  reminiscences  of  customs  which 
existed  when  I  first  drew  halfpence  from 
my  breeches  pockets,  and  which  still  re- 
main in  the  north  of  England ;  I  allude 
to  a  fair  held  at  Avingham,  a  small  hamlet 
situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Tyne,  about 
twelve  miles  west  of  Newcastle. 

Avingham  fair  is  on  the  26th  of  April 
and  26th  of  October.  Formerly,  an  agri- 
cultural society  awarded  prizes  to  the 
successful  candidates  for  the  breed  of 
horses,  cows,  sheep,  &c.  The  April  cattle 


show  was  entirely  of  the  male  kind,  and 
in  every  respect  calculated  to  afford  plea- 
sure and  instruction  to  the  naturalist, 
being  replete  with  variety,  form,  colour, 
and  as  much  beauty  as  could  be  found  in 
that  part  of  the  animal  creation ;  so  much 
so,  that  in  turning  from  the  scene  with 
reluctance,  you  might  exclaim,  "  Accuse 
not  nature,  she  hath  done  her  part ;  man, 
do  thou  but  thine"  Morland,  Potter, 
Cooper,  and  Bewick  *  might  all  have 
found  variety  for  the  exercise  of  their 
several  powers;  and,  indeed,  the  latter  has 
given  portraits  of  many  of  the  specimens 
there  exhibited,  in  his  "  History  of  Quad- 
rupeds." The  October  show  was  of  the 
female  kind,  and  inferior  to  the  former. 
At  this  meeting,  two  additional  prizes 
were  given ;  one  to  the  grower  of  the 
finest  crop  of  turnips,  which  was  decided 
by  taking  so  many  rows  of  a  given  num- 
ber of  yards  in  length,  and  weighing 
them;  the  other  was  the  sum  of  ten 
pounds,  to  the  person  who  could  prove 
that  he  had  reared  the  largest  family  with- 
out assistance  from  the  parish.  The  pri- 
vilege of  contest  was  confined  to  hinds 
(husbandmen.) 

The  fair  as  principally  for  the  sale  ot 
cattle,  and  the  show  is  not  greater  than 
that  of  Smith  field  on  market-day,  except- 
ing pigs,  which  here  and  at  Stainshaw 
(Stagshaw)  bank  fairs  supply  the  principal 
stock  to  the  Cumberland  and  Westmore- 
land pig  feeders.  In  the  morning  a  pro- 
cession moves  from  the  principal  alehouse 
for  the  purpose  of  riding  the  fair,  as  they 
call  it,  headed  by  the  two  Northumber- 
land pipers,  called  the  duke  of  Northum- 
berland's pipers,  in  a  light  blue  dress,  a 
large  cloak  of  the  same  colour  with  white 
cape,  a  silver  half-moon  on  one  arm  as  a 
cognizance,  and  white  band  and  binding 
to  the  hat.  Each  is  mounted  on  a  rosi- 
nante,  borrowed,  without  consent,  by  the 
busy  hostler  from  some  whiskey  smuggler 
or  cadger,  reconciled  to  the  liberty  by 
long  custom.  Those  who  have  noticed 
the  miller  and  his  horse  in  Stothard's 
picture  of  the  "  Pilgrimage  to  Canter- 
bury," may  form  a  tolerable  notion  of  the 
manner  in  which  this  "  Jemmy  Allen " 
and  son  are  mounted ;  the  accompanying 
sketch,  from  recollection,  may  more  con- 
veniently illustrate  my  description : 


*  The  small  cottage  wherein  Bewick  was  born, 
stands  at  a  short  distance  from  this  village  ( Av:ng- 
liam. 


1355 


TIIE  EVERY  DAY  BUOK,~DEC EMBER  30. 


tfa  Jfafr"— at 

And  what  have  those  troopers  to  do  here  to-day  ? 
The  duke  of  Northumberland's  pipers  are  they. 


The  pipers,  followed  by  the  duke's 
agent,  bailiff,  constable,  and  a  numerous 
body  of  farmers,  principally  the  duke's 
tenantry,  proceed  first  through  the  fair, 
where  the  proclamation  is  read,  that  the 
fair  shall  last  nine  days,  &c.  ;*  and  then, 
the  duke  being  lord  of  the  manor,  they 
walk  the  boundary  of  all  that  is  or  has 
been  common  or  waste  land.  That  task 
completed,  they  return  to  the  alehouse 
with  the  pipers  playing  before  them, 
where  they  partake  freely  of  store  of 
punch  at  the  duke's  expense.  The  far- 
mers are  so  proud  of  being  able  to  ex- 
press their  attachment  to  his  grace  "  in 
public,"  as  they  term  it,  that  they  mount 
their  sons  on  cuddies,  (asses,)  rather  than 
they  should  not  join  the  procession,  to 
drink  with  them  "  the  health  o'  his  grace, 
and  lang  may  he  leeve  ta  pratect  and 
study  the  interests  o'  his  tanentry."  Then 
there's  "  Here's  te  ye  Tarn,  thank's  te  ye 
Joke,"  and  so  they  separate  for  the  fair, 
there  to  "  ettle  how  mickle  per  heed  they 
con  git  for  their  nowte  an  swine/' 

Avingham  fair,  like  others,  is  attended 

*  It  never  continue*  longf  than  one  diy 


by  many  a  "  gaberlunzie,"  with  different 
kinds  of  amusement  for  children,  such  as 
the  "  E  and  O,  black-cock  and  grey  ;" 
and,  above  all,  for  the  amusement  of  the 
pig  drivers  and  "  gadsmen,"  Punch  and 
Toby,  (so  called  by  them,)  and  a  number 
of  those  gentlemen  who  vomit  fire,  as  if 
they  had  swallowed  the  wicks  of  all  the 
candles  they  had  snuffed  for  Richardson. 
Many  of  those  worthies  I  recollect  having 
attended  ever  since  I  was  able  to  see 
above  the  level  of  their  stalls.  At  my 
last  visit,  I  was  much  amused  with  one 
who  seemed  to  have  been  just  arrived 
from  the  sister  kingdom ;  he  was  sur- 
rounded by  ploughboys  and  their  doxeys, 
their  cheeks  as  red  as  their  topknots.  He 
had  a  large  pan  suspended  from  his  neck, 
and,  as  the  girls  observed,  a  "  skimmer- 
ing1"  white  apron  and  bib,  and  he  bel- 
lowed as  loud  as  he  could,  "  Hearse  a'  yer 
rale  dandy  candy,  made  ap  wa*  sugar  an 
brandy,  an  tha  rale  hoile  a  mint;  it's  cood 
far  young  ar  hold,  cough  or  cold,  a  short- 
ness a'  breath,  ar  a  pain  at  tha  stamach , 
it's  cood  far  hany  camplaint  whatsamever; 
A,  fate  !  an  yil  try  it : — noo  leddies,  hif  ye 
try  it,  an  yer  sure  ta  buy  it.''  And  sure 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  30. 


enough  this  was  the  case,  for  whatever 
might  be  its  qualities,  it  pleased  the  "  led- 
dies,"  who  purchased  in  such  abundance, 
that  they  besmeared  their  faces  so  as  to 
destroy  that  rosy  red,  love's  proper  hue, 
which  dwells  upon  the  cheeks  of  our 
northern  rustic  beauties. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  that  the 
October  fair  is  more  numerously  attended 
by  those  who  go  for  pleasure.  Unlike  the 
southern  holyday  folks,  they  prefer  autumn 
ior  this  reason,  that  "  hearst''  is  just  en- 
ded, and  they  have  then  most  money, 
which,  with  the  "  leddies,"  is  generally  ex- 
pended in  dress  suitable  to  this  and  similar 
occasions.  After  baking  a  sufficient  number 
of  barley  bannocks  for  the  following  day, 
and  the  milk  set  up,  they  throw  off  their 
"  linsey-woolsey  petticoats,"  and  "  hale 
made  bed-goons"  for  a  gown,  a  good  spe- 
cimen of  their  taste,  in  the  two  warmest 
colours,  a  red  flower  or  stripe  upon  a 
yellow  ground,  and  as  much  of  a  third 
colour  round  the  waste,  as  would  make 
them  vie  with  Iris.  In  this  butterfly  state 
they  hasten  to  the  scene  of  mirth,  and 
most  of  them  dance  till  they  have  reason 
to  suppose  it  is  time  to  "  gang  hame,  an 
git  a'  ready  be*  crowdie  time."  The  style 
of  dancing  is  the  same  as  in  Scotland, 
countiy  dances,  reels,  jigs,  and  hornpipes; 
the  last  mentioned  is  much  admired.  No 
merry-making  is  allowed  to  pass  over 
without  some  rural  "  admirable  Crichton" 
having  shown  his  agility  in  this  step. 
The  hornpipe  is  introduced  between  each 
country  dance,  while  "  Love  blinks,  wit 
sleeps,  an'  social  mirth  forgets  their's  care 
upon  the  earth."  The  following  day  is 
called  by  the  inhabitants  "  gwonny  Jokes- 
arie's"  day ;  why  so  is  not  known ;  all 
they  know  is,  that  it  is  and  has  been  so 
called  since  the  recollection  of  the  oldest 
alive  ;  and  that  is  sufficient  to  induce  them 
to  continue  a  custom,  which  is  peculiar  to 
it,  as  follows.  When  a  sufficient  number 
have  assembled,  they  elect  what  they  are 
pleased  to  call  a  mayor,  who  they  mount 
upon  a  platform,  which  is  borne  along  by 
four  men,  headed  by  the  musician  that 
attended  the  preceding  evening,  and  fol- 
lowed by  a  number  of  bailiffs  with  white 
"  wans,"  and  all  the  men,  wives,  maids, 
and  white-headed  urchins  in  the  village. 
Thus,  all  in  arms,  they  proceed  first  to 
the  minister's  house,  and  strike  up  a 
dance  in  front.  His  worship,  "  the  may- 
or," as  a  privileged  person,  sometimes 
evinces  a  little  impatience,  and  if  the 
minister  has  not  made  his  appearance, 


demands  to  speak  to  him.  On  his  ad- 
vancing, "  his  worship"  begins  thus,  "  A 
yes  !  twa  times  a  yes  !  an'  three  times  a 
yes !  If  ony  man,  or  ony  man's  man, 
lairds,  loons,  lubburdoons,  dogs,  skelpers, 
gabbrigate  swingers,  shall  commit  a  par- 
liament as  a  twarliament,  we,  in  the 
township  o'  Avingham,  shall  hea  his  legs, 
an  heed,  tied  ta  tha  cagwheel,  till  he  say 
yence,  twice,  thrice,  prosper  the  fair  o' 
Avingham,  an'  gwonny  Jokesane's  day." 
This  harangue,  however  ridiculous,  is  al- 
ways followed  with  cheering,  in  which 
their  good-tempered  pastor  freely  joins, 
with  his  hat  above  his  head,  and  stepping 
forward,  shakes  "  his  worship "  by  the 
hand,  giving  him  a  cordial  welcome, 
trusting  he  will  not  leave  the  manse  till  he 
takes  a  "  drap  a  yel,  a'  his  ain  brewin." 
This  is  of  course  acceded  to.  The  ale 
being  handed  round  in  plenty,  and  being 
found  to  be  good,  "  an*  what  is  na  guid 
that  the  minister  hes,"  they  engage  them- 
selves for  some  time,  "  while  news  much 
older  than  their  ale  goes  round."  The 
musicians  meanwhile  play  such  airs  as 
"  The  Reel  Rawe,"  "  The  Bonny  Bit," 
"  Laddie  Wylam  away,"  &c.  The  dance 
goes  round,  "the  young  contending  as 
the  old  survey,"  until  silence  is  called, 
when  "  his  worship "  gives  as  a  toast, 
"  Health,  wealth,  milk,  and  meal,  the 
de'al  tak  ye  a*  thot  diserit  wish  him  (the 
minister)  weal — hip  !  hip  !  huzza !"  Rais- 
ing "  his  worship  "  shoulder  height  again, 
they  proceed  round  the  village,  repeating 
their  gambols  in  front  of  ve  ry  respect- 
able house  where  they  meet  With  a  similar 
reception. 

After  this,  foot-racing  commences,  for 
hats,  handkerchiefs,  and  (as  Mathews  calls 
them)  she-shirts.  The  several  races  run  and 
prizes  distributed,  they  return  to  the  last 
and  gayest  of  their  mirthful  scenes,  not 
without  bestowing  some  little  pains  in  se- 
lecting colours  calculated  to  give  the 
finishing  touches  to  the  picture. 

"  Wi'  merry  sangs,  an'  friendly  cracks, 
I  wat  they  did  na  weary ; 
An*  unco  tales,  an'  funny  jokes, 
Their  sports  were  cheap  an'  cheaiy. 

*        *        *         * 
Syne,  wi'  a  social  glass  o'  strunt, 
They  parted  aff  careerin, 

Fu'  blythe  that  night.' 

So  ends  the  fair  of  Avingham  and   it 
sports,  which  was  to  me,  "  in  my  youth- 
ful days,''  a  source  of  great  amusement , 
but  whether  it  is  in  comparing  the  pre- 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  30. 


sent  with  the  past,  from  a  consciousness 
of  having 

"  Dealt  with  life,  as  children  with  their  play, 
Who  first  misuse,  then  cast  their  toys  away," 

that  we  do  not  derive  the  same  pleasure 
from  what  passes  before  us  in  maturer 
age ;  or  whether,  in  boyhood,  the  impres- 
sions of  such  trifles  as  I  have  related  are 
deeper  rooted  in  the  memory ;  yet,  cer- 
tain it  is,  whatever  be  our  situation  in 
life,  we  all  come  to  the  conclusion,  that 
our  early  days  were  our  happiest. 
I  am,  &c. 

J — N  J — K — N. 

BATH  ANECDOTES. 
A  Member  for  the  City,  1645. 

In  December  1645,  the  following  letter 
was  sent  by  the  mayor  and  first  alderman 
of  Bath,  to  sir  John  Harrington,  announc- 
ing their  design  of  electing  him  one  of 
their  representatives,  entreating  him  to 
accept  the  trouble  thereof. .  The  bold 
eagerness  with  which  a  seat  in  parliament 
is  solicited  now,  and  the  modest  coyness 
that  marked  the  conduct  ot  those  who  were 
called  to  that  honour  in  the  early  part  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  strikingly  con- 
trast. The  person  chosen  at  that  period 
to  represent  a  county  or  city,  was  gene- 
rally allowed  a  gratuity  by  his  consti- 
tuents in  consideration  of  his  trouble. 

COPY. 
To    our  mucke    honoured    and  wortkie 

Friend,  John  Harrington,  Esq.  at  his 

house  at  Kelstone,  near  Bathe. 
Worthie  Sir, 

Out  of  the  long  experience  we  "have 
had  of  your  approved  worth  and  since- 
rity, our  citie  of  Bathe  have  determined 
and  settled  their  resolutions  to  elect  you 
for  a  burgess  for  the  House  of  Commons 
in  this  present  parliament,  for  our  said 
citie,  and  do  hope  you  will  accept  the 
trouble  thereof;  which  if  you  do,  our  de- 
sire is,  you  will  not  fail  to  be  with  us  at 
Bathe  on  Monday  next,  the  eighth  of 
this  instant,  by  eight  of  the  morning,  at 
the  furthest,  for  then  we  proceed  to  our 
election  :  and  of  your  determination  we 
entreat  you  to  certify  us  by  a  word  or 
two  in  writing,  and  send  it  by  the  bearer 
to 

Your  assured  loving  friends, 

JOHN  BIGG,  the  maior, 
WILLIAM  CHAPMAN. 

Bathe,  Dec.  6,  1645. 


SIR   JOHN'S   ACCOUNT   OF    HIS    PRO- 
CEEDINGS. 

A  Note  of  my  Bathe  bminesse  aboute  the 
Parliament. 

Saturday,  Dec.  26th  1646  went  to 
Bathe,  and  dined  with  the  maior  and 
citizens,  conferred  about  my  election  to 
serve  in  parliament,  as  my  father  was 
helpless,  and  ill  able  to  go  any  more ; 
went  to  the  George  inn  at  night,  met  the 
bailiffs,  and  desired  to  be  dismissed  from 
serving,  drank  strong  beer  and  metheglin, 
expended  about  iijs,  went  home  late,  but 
could  not  get  excused,  as  they  entertained 
a  good  opinion  of  my  father. 

Monday,  Dec.  28th  went  to  Bathe, 
met  sir  John  Homer,  we  were  chosen  by 
the  citizens  to  serve  for  the  city.  The 
maior  and  citizens  conferred  about  par- 
liament busines.  The  maior  promised 
sir  John  Homer  and  myself  a  horse 
apiece,  when  we  went  to  London  to  the 
parliament,  which  ive  accepted  of,  and 
we  talked  about  the  synod  and .  ecclesias- 
tical dismissions.  I  am  to  go  again  on 
Thursday,  and  meet  the  citizens  about 
all  such  matters,  and  take  advice  therein. 
Thursday  31st,  went  to  Bathe,  Mr. 
Ashe  preached.  Dined  at  the  George 
inn  with  the  maior  and  four  citizens, 
spent  at  dinner  vjs  in  wine. 

Laid  out  in  victuals  at  the  George  inn 
xjs  4rf. 

Laid  out  in  drinking  vijs  ijd. 
Laid  out  in  tobacco  and  drinking  ves- 
sels, iiijs  4d. 

Jan.  1st,  My  father  gave  me  £4  to 
pay  my  expenses  at  Bathe. 

Mr.  Chapman  the  maior  came  to  Kel- 
ston,  and  returned  thanks  for  my  being 
chosen  to  serve  in  parliament,  to  my  father, 
in  name  of  all  the  citizens.  My  father 
gave  me  good  advice,  touching  my  speak- 
ing in  parliament  as  the  city  should  di- 
rect me.  Came  home  late  at  night  from 
Bathe,  much  troubled  hereat,  concerning 
my  proceeding  truly,  for  men's  good 
report  and  mine  own  safety. 

Note.  I  gave  the  city  messengers  ijs  for 
bearing  the  maior' s  letters  to  me.  Laid 
out  in  all  £3  vijs  for  victuals,  drink  and 
horse  hire,  together  with  divers  gifts. 

SUFFERING  A  RECOVERY. 
In  December,  1822,  a  poor  man  made 
application  to  the  Bath  forum  magistrates, 
and  stated  that  six  months  prior,  he  had. 
bought  the  goods  and  chattels  of  a  neigh- 
bour, together  with  his  tvife,  for  the  sum 


1661 


THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  30. 


1662 


of  four  pounds  ten  shillings,  for  which  he 
produced  a  regular  stamped  receipt. 

The  man  had  spent  all  the  money  and 
wanted  to  have  his  wife  back  again,  but 
he  refused  to  part  with  her.  The  magis- 
trates told  him  he  had  no  claim  to  her, 
arid  advised  him  to  deliver  her  up  to  her 
husband,  which  he  at  last  reluctantly 
did.  The  following  is  a  true  copy  of  the 
stamped  receipt. 

"  RECEIVED  of  Edward  Gale,  the  sum  ot 
four  pounds  ten  shillings,  for  good  and 
chattels;  and  also  the  black  mare  and 
Mrs.  Naish,  as  parting  man  and  wife. 
As  agreed  before  witnesses  this  8th  De- 
cember, 1822. 

"  WITNESS,  the  mark  of  Edward  Pulling 
X  Mary  Gale,  George  Lansdowne,  and 
Edward  Gale. 

"  Settled  the  whole  concern, 

By  me  John  Naish." 


NINE  MEN'S  MORRIS. 
To  the  Editor  of  the  Every-Day  Book. 
Ludgate-hill,  10*A  Nov.  1826. 

Dear  Sir, — I  was  much  pleased  on 
reading  and  being  reminded  of  an  ancient 
game  in  your  book,  called  Ninepenny- 
marl ;  a  game  I  had  scarcely  heard  of 
during  the  last  twenty  years,  although 
perfectly  familiar  to  me  in  my  boyish  days, 
and  played  exactly  the  same  as  described 
by  your  correspondent  P.* 

I  have  since  visited  my  native  county, 
Norfolk,  and  find  the  game  is  still  played 
by  the  rustics,  and  called,  as  it  alw'ays 
has  been  there,  "  the  game  of  Morris," 
or  "  Nine  Mens  Morris."  The  scheme 
is  frequently  chalked  on  the  ground  or 
barn  floors,  and  the  game  played  with 
different  coloured  stones  or  beans.  I 
think  the  name  is  more  appropriate  than 
"  Ninepenny-marl ;"  and  moreover,  we  o. 
Norfolk  have  the  authority  of  our  im- 
mortal bard  in  his  "  Midsummer  Night's 
Dream,"  where  the  queen  of  the  fairies, 
speaking  to  Oberon,  says,  "TheNineMen's 
Morris  is  filled  up  with  mud." 

There  are  some  men  who  are  not  a  little 
proud  at  being  proficients  at  this  game. 
I  heard  an  anecdote  at  North  Walsham 
of  a  man  named  Mayes,  still  living  in 
that  neighbourhood,  who  is  so  great  a 
lover  of  the  pastime,  that  a  wager  was 
laid  by  some  wags,  that  they  would  pre- 
vent his  going  to  church,  by  tempting  him 


•  At  col.  983. 


to  play ;  and,  in  order  to  accomplish  their 
purpose,  they  got  into  a  house,  building 
by  the  road  side,  where  Mayes  was  sure 
to  pass.  Being  a  great  psalm-singer,  he 
had  a  large  book  under  his  arm  ;  they 
called  him  in  to  settle  some  disputed 
point  about  the  game,  and  he  was  very  soon 
tempted  to  play,  and  continued  to  do  sc 
till  church  time  was  over,  and  got  a 
good  scolding  from  his  wife  for  being  too 
late  for  dinner. 

I  have  been  led  to  make  these  remarks 
from  the   pleasure  I  have  derived    frem 
your  publication ;  and  you  may  excuse  me, 
perhaps,  if  I  add,   with  a  smile,  that  I 
have  found  some  amusement  in  the  game 
of  Morris,  by  playing  it  with  my  chess 
men  :  it  requires  more  art  to  play  it  well, 
than  you  would  imagine  at  first  sight. 
I  am,  dear  sir, 
Yours  sincerely, 

T.  B 

With  almost  the  same  pleasure  tha; 
room  has  been  made  for  this  letter,  from 
a  well-remembered  kind  neighbour,  will 
his  communication  be  read  in  Norfolk  by 
his  fellow-countrymen. 

He  graces  it  from  charmed  metre,  but 
I  (spoil'd  of  Shakspeare's  line")  take  prose 
from  Strutt. 

The  erudite  historian  of  the  "  Sports 
and  Pastimes  of  the  People  of  England." 
says,  that  "  Merelles,  or,  as  it  was  for- 
merly called  in  England,  Nine  Men's 
Morris,  and  also  Fivepenny  Morris,  is  a 
game  of  some  antiquity."  He  gives  a 
figure  of  the  "  Merelle-table,"  as  it  ap- 
peared in  the  fourteenth  century,  the  lines 
of  which  are  similar  to  those  in  the  scheme 
of  "  Ninepenny  Marl,"  engraved  with  the 
account  of  the  game  communicated  by 
*.  *.  P.,  with  only  this  difference,  that 
at  each  corner,  formed  by  the  angles  and 
intersections,  are  black  spots. 

The  game  is  played  in  France  with 
pawns  or  men,  made  on  purpose,  termed 
merelles  :  hence  the  pastime  derived  that 
denomination.  The  manner  of  playing 
is  briefly  thus :  two  persons,  each  having 
nine  men,  different  in  colour  and  form, 
for  distinction  sake,  place  them  alternately 
one  by  one  upon  the  spots ;  and  the 
business  of  either  party  is  to  prevent  his 
antagonist  from  placing  three  of  his  pieces 
so  as  to  form  a  row  of  three,  without  the 
intervention  <.  •  an  opponent  piece.  If  he 
forms  a  row  ,ie  takes  one  of  his  anta- 
gonist's pieces  irom  any  part,  except  from 


1663 


THE  E VERY-DAY  BOOK.— DECEMBER  31. 


1664 


a  row,  which  must  not  be  touehed  if  he 
have  another  piece  on  the  board.  When 
all  the  pieces  are  laid  down,  they  are 
played  backwards  and  forwards  in  any 
direction  that  the  lines  run,  but  they  can 
only  move  from  one  spot  to  another  at 
one  time.  He  that  takes  all  his  oppo- 
nent's pieces  is  the  conqueror. 

The  rustic  players  of  "  Nine  Men's 
Morris,''  in  England,  who  draw  their 
lines  on  the  ground,  make  a  small  hole 
for  every  dot,  and  play  in  them  with 
stones  of  different  forms  or  colours..  The 
pastime  is  supposed  to  have  derived  the 
appellation  of  "Nine  Men's  Morris," 
from  the  different  coloured  men  being 
moved  backwards  or  forwards  as  though 
they  were  dancing  a  morris.* 

NATURALISTS'  CALENDAR. 
Mean  Temperature  ...  38  •  70. 


To  DECEMBER. 

The  passing  year,  all  grey  with  hours, 

Ends,  dull  mouth,  with  thee  ; 
Chilled  his  summer,  dead  his  flowers, 

Soon  will  his  funeral  be  ; 
Frost  shall  drink  up  his  latest  breath, 
And  tempests  rock  him  into  death. 
How  he  shivers  !  from  his  age 

All  his  loaves  have  faded, 
And  his  weary  pilgrimage 

Ends  at  last  unaided 
By  his  own  sun  that  dims  its  ray, 
To  leave  him  dark  in  his  decay. 

Hark  !  through  the  air  the  wild  storm  bears 

In  hollow  sounds  his  doom, 
While  scarce  a  star  its  pale  course  steers 

Athwart  the  sullen  gloom  ; 
And  Nature  leaves  him  to  his  fate, 
To  his  grey  hairs  a  cold  ingrate. 
She  goes  to  hail  the  coming  year, 

Whose  spring-flowers  soon  shall  rise  — 
Fool,  thus  to  shun  an  old  friend's  bier, 

Nor  wisely  moralize 

•  Strutt. 


On  her  own  brow,  where  age  is  steal  ng 
Many  a  scar  of  time  revealing  : — 

Quench'd  volcanoes,  rifted  mountains, 

Oceans  driven  from  land, 
Isles  submerged,  and  dried  up  fountains, 

Empires  whelm'd  in  sand — 
What  though  her  doom  be  yet  untold — 
Nature,  like  Time,  is  waxing  old  ! 

Nsw  Monthly  Magazine. 


NATURALISTS    CALENDAR. 

Mean  Temperature  ...  37  •  50. 


THE   INDEXES    TO    THE    V'OLUME    WILL 
END  THE  EVERY-DAY  BOOK. 

On  taking  leave,  as  Editor  of  this  work, 
1  desire  to  express  my  thanks  for  its  fa- 
vourable acceptation.  It  seems  to  have 
been  regarded  as  I  wished — a  miscellany 
to  be  taken  up  by  any  body  at  any  time. 
I  have  the  pleasure  to  know  that  it  is 
possessed  by  thousands  of  families  of  all 
ranks :  is  presented  by  fathers  to  their 
sons  at  school ;  finds  favour  with  mothers, 
as  suited  to  the  perusal  of  their  daugh- 
ters ;  and  is  so  deemed  of,  as  to  be  placed 
in  public  and  private  libraries  enriched 
with  standard  literature.  Ascribing  these 
general  marks  of  distinction  to  its  general 
tendency,  that  tendency  will  be  main- 
tained in  my  next  publication, 

THE  TABLE  BOOK. 

This  publication  will  appear,  with 
cuts,  every  Saturday,  and  in  monthly 
parts,  at  the  same  price  as  the  Every- Day 
Book,  and  will  contain  several  original 
articles  from  valued  correspondents,  for 
which  room  could  not  be  here  made. 

The  first  number  and  the  present  year 
will  be  "  out'*  together.  I  gratefully  re- 
member the  attachment  of  my  friends 
to  the  present  sheets,  and  I  indulge  a  hope 
that  they  will  as  kindly  remember  me, 
and  my  new  work 


THE  TABLE  BOOK. 

Cuttings  with  Cuts,  facts,  fancies,  recollections, 
Heads,  autographs,  views,  prose  and  verse  selections, 
Notes  of  my  musings  in  a  lonely  walk, 
My  friends'  communications,  table-talk, 
Notions  of  books,  and  things  I  read  or  see, 
Events  that  are,  or  were,  or  are  to  be, 
Fall  in  my  TABLE  BOOK— and  thence  arise 
To  please  the  young,  and  help  divert  the  wise. 


December  23,  1826. 


\V.  HONE. 


INDEXES. 

I.  GENERAL  SUBJECTS. 
II.  ROMISH  SAINTS. 

III.  POETRY,  ORIGINAL  AND  SELECTED 

IV.  CO-RESPONDENTS'  SIGNATURES. 

V.  ENGRAVINGS  IN  THE  VOLUME 


TO  THE  BINDER. 

If  the  work  he  required  in  FOUR  Volumes,  commence  "VOL.  I. — PART  II."  ftt  col. 
ai'd  place  the  Indexes  to  that  Volume  at  the  end— commence  "  VOL.  II.— PAHT  II  rt  a«  ioi. 
wnd  conclude  with  the  Indexes  to  Vol.  II. 


VoLII— 105. 


1.  THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


,  (.Fountain's,;  Yorkshire,  ruins  of, 

1061. 

Abgarus,  portrait  sent  by  Christ  to,  63. 
Abraham,  his  oak  at  Mamre,  JOSS. 
Actors,  power  formerly  exercised  over,  by 

lord  chamberlain*  1063. 
Adanson,   Michael,  naturalist,    notice  of, 

1067. 

Addison,  his  library  noticed,  696. 
Aerostation,  1567. 
Ague,  charm  for,  1560. 
Aguelar,  baron,  the  miser,  lottery  anecdote 

about,  1526. 

Alberoni,  cardinal,  notice  of,  878. 
Aldhelm,  bishop  of  Sherborne,  1308. 
Aleppo,  thorns  called  Glastonbury  brought 

from,   1642 

Ales,  local  customs  about,  675,693. 
All-fools'  day,  485,  487. 
Almondsbury,    Gloucestershire,    narratire 

relating  to,  1631. 
Alnwick.  Northumberland,  the  freeman's 

well  at,  249. 

Ambleside  church,  notice  of,  1369. 
Amsterdam,  lotteries  in,  1532. 
Anderson,  Jem,  champion   for  mayor   of 

Garrett,  834. 

Andrew,  Merry,  derivation  of,  503. 
Anglers,  important  to,  767. 
Angling,  article  on,  769. 
Ann  of  Denmark,  notice  of  her  jewels,  749. 
Anthony,  parish  of,  in  Cornwall ;  accident 

in  church  of,  663. 
Antigua  in  1736,  1304. 
Antiquaries,  remarks  in  favour  of,  308. 
Apparitions,  forged  account  of,  in  Ireland, 

278,  281 ;  at  Woodstock,  history  of,  583 ; 

relating  to  death,  &c.   1111 ;  judicious 

remarks  on,  quoted,  1011  ;  farther  notice, 

1578. 
Apples,  receipt  for  keeping,  1213. 

• see  Cider. 

Archery  at  White  Conduit-house,  15ti4. 
Argyle,  earl  of,  notice  of,  758,  759. 
Arm-chairs,  opera,  630. 
Armour,  articles  of,  lottery  prizes  consisting 

of,  1411. 

Ardmore,  bishopric  of,  1034. 
Arones,  J.,  lottery  fraud  of,  1466. 
Art,  black,  printing  so  called,  1240 


Arthur's  seat,Ed in  burgh,  engraving;  of  May  • 
dew  dancers  at,  609. 

Ash  Wednesday,  197. 

Ashburnham  family,  1376. 

Ashburton,  lord,  (John  Dunning,)  died, 
notice  of,  1087. 

Ashmole,  Elias,  extracts  from  his  diary 
1305. 

Ashton-under-line,  custom  at,  467. 

Ashton  Ralph,  tradition  concerning,  469. 

Asidew,  Arsedine,  or  Orsden,  explanation 
of,  1376. 

Auckland,  (Bishop,)  custom  at,  1043. 

Augsburg  cathedral,  engraving  of  a  monu- 
ment in,  1073. 

Avingham  fair  and  sports,  1653. 

Authors,  curious  instance  of  one,  1068 ; 
instance  of  anxiety  of  one,  1315. 

Autographs ;  of  Browne  Willis,  295,296;  of 
Dr.  R.Willis,  bishop  of  Winchester,  296; 
of  Benjamin  West,  366  ;  of  earl  of  Mans- 
field, 396;  of  John  Hampden,  476;  of 
William  Emerson,  690  j  of  George  Heriot, 
913. 

Autumn,  engraving  of  ancient  dress  for 
1342. 

Baal,  fires  in  honour  of.    See  Fires. 
Backsword  or  singlestick,  notices  of,  1207 

1341,  1899. 
Bacon,    gammon   of,  custom  of  eating  at 

Easter,  439 ;    custom    about    flitch    of 

bacon,  and  engraving,  799;  receipt  for 

making  Somersetshire  bacon,  813. 
• lord,  his  singular  recommendation 

about  garden  walks,  518;   his  plan  of  a 

mansion  house,  1621. 
Balcanquel,  Dr.,  rules  for  Heriot' s  hospital 

drawn  by,  756. 
Baldwin,  Samuel, remarkable  funeral  willed 

by,  684. 

Bales,  Peter,  curious  caligraphy  by,  1215. 
Balmerino,  lord,  executed,  notice  of,  1096. 
Band,  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Heriot ;  he" 

sons  provided  for  in  their  grandfather* 

hospital,  755. 
Bank  of    England,  anecdote  of  clerks  of, 

1447;  singular  details  of  forgery  on,  see 

Price,  Charles. 
Baptism  ;   of  bells,  139  ;  of  Jews  at  Rome 


J671 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX 


1672 


before  Easter  Sunday,  437;  a  curious 
case  of  one,  899  ;  a  Welch  one  described, 
1613. 

Barber-surgeons,  758. 

Barbers,  numerous  convictions  of.  in  1746, 
1564. 

Baretti,  Joseph,  notice  of,  643. 

Banning,  Kent,  custom  of  doleing  at,  1R27. 

Barnwell,  George,  acting  of  at  Christmas, 
effect  of,  1651. 

Barrington,  viscount,  expelled  house  of 
commons,  1447. 

Bartholomew  fair,  1 196. 

Bartlemass,  mayor  of,  mock  election  of  at 
Newbury,  1045. 

Bath  anecdotes,  1659. 

Battles,  singular  opening  of  one,  875 ;  notice 
of  a  great  naval  one,  ib.. 

Baubleshire,  duke  of,  a  remarkable  charac- 
ter so  called  ;  engraving  and  notice  of, 
679. 

Baxter's  "  World  of  Spirits,"  anecdote 
from,  1239. 

Beadle,  parish,  1558. 

Bears,  various  descriptions  of,  1560. 

Beasts,  satire  on  over-fattening  for  the  mar- 
ket, 1547. 

Beaucaire,  in  France,  fair  of,  1037. 

Beaufoy,  colonel,  his  account  of  a  remark- 
able storm,  553. 

Beau  me,  Sainte,  near  Marseilles,  notice  of, 
1003. 

Beauty,  supposed  to  be  promoted  by  wash- 
ing with  May-dew,  611. 

Becket,  Thomas  d,  engraving  and  notice  of, 
929. 

Beckford  family,  notice  of,  1371. 

Bees,  taking  honey  without  killing  them, 
1323. 

Bell-man's  verses,  1594. 

Bells,  notices  of,  135,  138;  consecration 
of,  136;  description  of  passion  bell,  392  ; 
how  guarded  in  Lent,  434 ;  England 
called  the  ringing  island,  509;  horse- 
racing  for  silver  bells,  539  ;  their  redun- 
dant ringing  and  tolling,  744,  745,  907  ; 
notice  of  Bow  bells,  1256. 

Beltain  or  Beltane,  in  Scotland,  Scottish 
May-day  festival,  659. 

Ben,  Old  General,  of  Nottingham,  1569. 

Bennet,  old,  the  newscrier,  notice  of,  1275. 

Bentinck,  count,  duke  of  Portland,  1374. 

Benvenuti,  bishop,  costly  mistake  of, 
1398. 

Berkshire,  derivation  of  the  name,  1033. 

Berwick,  duke  of,  notice  of,  789,  1323. 

Bexhill,  Sussex,  notice  of,  748. 

Beziers,  in  France,  procession  of  the 
camel  in,  641. 

Biddenden,  Kent,  notice  of,  442,  449. 

Bills,  exchequer,  origin  of,  29. 

Birds,  amusement  of  shooting  at  a  wooden 
one,  289  ;  rearing  and  treatment  of  young 
ones,  ib. ;  the  eagle,  a  royal  one,  ib ; 


singular  collision  of  flocks  of,  near  Pres 
ton,  1139. 

Birds-nests,  anecdote  concerning,  238 
Births,  insurance  of,  1436. 
Bish,  the  last  man,  lottery  puff,  1507. 
Bishop  Auckland,  custom  of,  1043. 
Bishops,  the  devil  called  by  king  James  a 
busy  bishop,   1230;  notice   of   the  boy 
bishop,  1601. 
Black,  lamp,  receipt  for,  266. 

art,  printing  so  called,  1240. 

Blackberry  jam,  how  to  be  prepared,  1116 
Blackburn     weavers,    memorial    of    their 

wretched  state,  562. 

Blackford,  an  able  backsword  player,  1341. 
Blacking,  burlesque  company  for  making, 

1581. 
Blagden,  Dr.,  and  others,   experiments  on 

heat,  776  ;  his  narrative,  ib. 
Bland,  Mrs.,  notice  of,  1204. 
Blanks,  lottery,  1447  ;  one  made  a  prize, 

1466. 
Blase,  sir  W.  and  lady,  their   equipage  at 

mock  election  for  Garrett,  851. 
Blind   persons,  remarks  on   their  dreams, 

1539. 
Block,  wetting  the;  shoemakers'  custom  of, 

470. 

Blood  showers,  explanation  of,  1127. 
Bloomlield,  (the  poet,)  an  early  amusement 

of,  901. 

Blue-coat  boys,  tampered  with  about  lottery 
tickets,  1463;  remarks  on  their  singing 
Christmas  carols,  1651. 
Boadicea,  1198. 
Boar's  head  at  Christmas,  1649. 
Bochsa,Mr.,  1599. 
Bolton-upon-Swale,  Henry  Jenkins  born  in, 

1602. 
Bolton,  duke  of,  1375. 

duchess  of,  (before  Kitty   Fisher,) 


advertisement  by,  474. 
Bonaparte,  1070. 
Books,  advertisement  of  one  in  1653, 1314  ; 

lottery  for,  1414  ;  list  of  the  books,  1418. 
Bosworth,  battle  of,  1 104. 
Bottesford,  curious  entry  in  church  book  of, 

371. 

Bow  bells,  notice  of,  1256. 
Bowl,  wassell,  notice  of,  7. 
Bowls,  long,  1070. 

Bowyer,  Wm.,  printer,  notice  of,  1557. 
Boxeley,  rood  of,  account  of,  417. 
Boy,  the  laughing,  engraving  of,  548. 

bishop,  notice  of,  1601. 

Boys,    one    said   to   be    murdered    by    his 

school-master,  1371 ;    notice  and  cut  of 

boysabout  a  sugar  hogshead,  1543. 
,  climbing,  remarks  on,   from  617  to 

626.     See  Chimney-sweepers. 
Bray,  sir  Reginald,  notice  of,  1071. 
Bridal,  royal,  374. 

Bridewell  boys,  former  turbulence  of,  1398 
Bridgewater,  duke  of,  canals  by,  I2f6 


1673 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1674 


Bright,  Edward,  the  largest  man,  1581. 

Brighton,  1257 

Brill,     (The,)    Middlesex,    Casar's    camp 

called,  1345,1566. 
Brindley,  James,  civil  engineer,  died,  notice 

of,  1263. 

Brittany,  superstitions  in,  972. 
Brockbank,   William,    the   walking    po»t, 

1593. 

Brothers,  the,  316. 
Brough,  Westmoreland,  1596. 
Brown,  baron,  Durham  poet, engraving1  and 

notice  of,  1217. 

Joe,  account  of,  549. 

Brushes  for  sweeping  chimneys,  engraving 

of  one,  617. 
Bubbles,  (speculations   called,)   notice  of, 

28,  520,  1579. 

Buck  and  doe,  carried  in  St.  Paul's  cathe- 
dral, origin  of,  119. 
Buckingham,  custom  at,  707. 
Buckles  and  shoes,  notice  of,  1354. 
Buffon,  count  de,  naturalist,  notice  of,  519. 
Bulkeley,  Mr.,  circumstances  of  his  child's 

baptism,  899. 
Buns,  hot-cross,  410. 
Burial,  provision  against  in  a  will,    1325; 

general  invitations  published   to   attend 

burials,  1615. 

Burnet,  sir  Thomas,  died,  43. 
Bury,  Suffolk,  dispute  about  bells  in,  907. 
Burwell,  Cambridgeshire,  fatal  fire  at,  1225. 
Busby,  Dr.,  his  chair  a  supposititious  one, 
'901. 

Bushell,  Isaac,  a  backsword  player,  1341. 
Kutler,  William,  died,  1316. 
Butter  worth,  Billy,  an  eccentric  character, 

notice  of,  1142. 

Ceesar's  pretorium  at  Pancras,  1345,  1566. 

Cake,  Biddenden,  account  of,  442. 

Calculation,  an  extraordinary  one,  396. 

Calendar,  naturalists',  25. 

Calico-printing,  a  chemical  black  for, 
269. 

Caligraphy,  notice  of,  1215. 

Calves-head  club,  158. 

Camps,  description  of  Caesar's  at  Pancras, 
1345,  1566. 

Canals  by  Brindley,  notice  of,  1265;  the 
Grand  Junction  one  commenced  in  1766, 
970. 

Candlemas  day,  173,  223  ;  judges'  enter- 
tainment and  dance,  174. 

Cann,  the  Devonshire  champion  in  wrest- 
ling, 1009. 

Canonbury  tower,  supposed  subterraneous 
passage  from,  1607. 

Canterbury,  Thomas  &  Becket,  archbishop 
of,  notice  and  engraving  of,  929. 

Carbonari,  ludicrous  anecdote  about,  1S98 

Cardan,  curious  circumstance  of,  456. 

Caraboo,  impostor,  self-called,  notice  and 
engraving  of.  1632 


Cards,  a  child  played  for  at,  1344. 

Carlos,  colonel,  and  Charles  II.,  notice  of 

698. 

Carna,  goddess  of  the  hinge,  727. 
Cars,  travelling  ones  in  Ireland,  engravings 

of,  239,241. 
Carter,  farmer,  ludicrous  "  trial  of   farmer 

Carter's  dog,"  198. 
Carving,  ancient,  engraving  of,  497. 
Cat,   engraving  of  a  street  image   of  one, 

312. 
Catholics  and  Protestants,  mutual   interest 

of,  1870. 

Cavendish,  house  of,  1376. 
Ceres,  represented  in  harvest,  !155,  1162. 
Chabert,  the  human  salamander,  771. 
Chairs,  opera  arm,  630. 
;  Dr.  Busby's,  a  supposititious  one, 

9)1. 

,  sedan,  ib. 

— : ,  shoemakers'  amusement  with,  ib. 

Chalmers,  James,  curious  advertisement  by, 

938. 

Chamberlain,  lord,  power  formerly  exer- 
cised by,  over  actors,  1063 
Chancery,  a  hoax  in,  1145. 
Chances  in  lotteries,  computations  touching, 

1456. 
Charitable  corporation,   notice  of,  and  of 

lottery  for  the  sufferers  by,  1451. 
Charles  I.,  behaviour  of,  143,  146. 

II.,  notice  of,  698  ;  public   notice 

of  his  continuing  to  heal  the  evil,  682. 

V.,    anecdote    of,    458;    curious 

pageant  at  Dunkirk  by,  870. 

Charlotte,  queen,  notice  of,  1084. 

Charlton,  Mr.  T.,  notice  of,  1627. 

Cheap  Tommy,  (Thomas  Hogg,)  notice  of. 
942. 

Cheldonizing,  or  swallow-singing,  explain- 
ed, 1111. 

Chemists,  anecdote  of,  635. 

Chepstow  castle,  sports  at,  1562. 

Cherries,  feast  of,  at  Hamburgh,  1040. 

Cheshire,  customs  in,  450,  597,  1371. 

Chester,  ancient  horse-racing  at,  539. 

Chicheley,  archbishop,  artifice  of,  1141 

Child,  Mr.,  banker,  notice  of,  1445. 

— one  played  for  at  cards,  1344. 

Chillcott,  Charles,  notice  of,  963. 

Chimes,  138. 

Chimney-sweepers,  rhetoric  of  one,  56 , 
May-day  exhibition  of,  613  ;  proct  ssion, 
public  dinner,  and  oratory  of  the  masters, 
617;  engraving  of  "the  last  chimney- 
sweeper," 1*6.;  magters*  hand-bill,  ib. 

Chimneys,  how  to  dress  for  the  summer 
517. 

Chinese  festival  of  lanterns,  90. 

Cholera  morbus,  remarks  en,  1243. 

Cholmondeley,  marquis  of,  376. 

Christians,  their  hatred  of  Jews,  533. 

Christmas,  usages  and  celebrations  respect- 
ing, 1628,  1638,  &c. 


1675 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


167« 


Christmas  cut  of  doors,  at  Ratzburg,  11. 
Christopher,  Bartholomew,  a  sufferer  by 
gambling,  1527. 

Christ's  Hospital.     See  Blue-coat  Boys. 
Chuneelah,  the  elephant  killed  at  Exeter 
Change,  321. 

Churches  pressing  for  the  navy  in,  443; 
watching  of.  in  Yorkshire,  548;  curious 
colloquy  on  images,  &c.  in,  1367  ;  Ho- 
garth's satire  on  some  old  supposed  em- 
bellishments in,  1369. 

Churchiii,  (Stuart,)  Arabella,  notice  of, 
1325. 

John,  (duke    of    Marlborough,) 

1376. 

sir  Winston,  letter  of,  1322. 

Churchwardens,  chosen  on  Easter- Monday, 
458. 

Cibber's  Apology,  notice  of,  1064. 

Cider,  preparation  for  making,  1269;  ex- 
cellence of  the  Herefordshire  cider, 
1270. 

Cookery,  old  receipts  for,  their  costliness, 
518. 

Clack  Fall  Fair,  1371,  1584,  1606. 

Clapham,  old  church  of,  notice  of,  1369. 

Clay,  Hercules,  delivered  from  danger  by 
a  dream,  367. 

Clayton,  Mr.,  an  eld  and  good  tenant, 
1256. 

Cleobulus,  his  riddle  on  the  year,  26. 

Clerkenwell  in  1730,  notice  of,  699. 

Cleves,  patent  for  Order  of  Fools  at,  1287. 

Climate,  changes  of,  70;  Howard's  work 
on  climate  of  London  recommended,  3. 

Climbing  boys,  society  for  suppressing, 
622.  See  Chimney-sweepers. 

Clinton,  Samuel,  an  extraordinary  sleeper, 
96. 

Clogs,  engraving  of  an  old  shoe  and  clog, 
1 635. 

Clothing  counteractive  of  heat,  779. 

Clouds,  singular  case  of  their  electricity  in 
Java,  1082;  notices  respecting  heights, 
motions,  and  shapes  of  clouds,  ib. 

Club,  calves-head,  158. 

Coachmen,  (Hackney,)  instances  of  honesty 
of,  902. 

Coat  and  badge,  Dogget's  prize  of,  for  row- 
ing, 1062. 

Cobblers,  festival  of,  at  Paris,  1054,  1055. 
See  Shoemakers. 

Cock,  W.,  (sir  W.  Swallowtail.)  notice  of, 
835,838. 

Coffins,  anecdotes  of,  1020. 

Coleridge,  Mr.,  his  description  of  Christ- 
mas out  of  doors  at  Ratzburg,  1 14. 

Coleshill,  customs  of,  467. 

Collars,  a  remarkably  heavy  one,  530 ; 
worn  by  judges,  538. 

Colman,  George,  the  elder,  died,  notice  of, 
1087. 

Comedy,  street. notice  of,  1310. 

Co.uuion  prayer,  strictures  on,  149. 


Connaught,  rigid  fasting  at,  on  Good  Friday, 

411. 

Connor,  rev.  J.,  his  description  of  ceremo- 
nies of  Greek  church  at  Jerusalem,  438. 
Conjugal  indifference,  1301. 
Conway,  William,  a  noted  London-crier, 

470. 
Cook-maid,  engraving  of,  in  a  lottery  puff 

1503. 
Cooper's  hall,  lotteries  latterly  drawn  in, 

1119. 

Copenhagen -house,  1564. 
Corbet,  Richard,  bishop  of  Norwich,  1 390. 
Cornwall,  Christmas  drama  of  St.  George  as 

acted  in,   122;  customs  in,   676,   1008; 

earthquake  in,  in  1757,  1007. 
Coronations,  Mr.  Taylor's  excellent   work 

on,  995. 

Corpse  candles,  exhalations  so  called,  1019. 
Corpus  Christi  day,  notice  of,  695. 
Cotswold,  harvest  home  on,  1155. 
Country  and  town,  contrast  of,  1366. 

mansions, description  of,  1620,&c 

Court,  (Lawless,)  notice  of,  1286. 
Covent-garden  market,  1187. 
Coventry,  earl  of,  1 376. 
Cow-mass,  870. 
Cowper,  earl,  1375. 
Cracknell,T.,  notice  of,  838 
Craniology,  notice  of,  838. 
Credulity,  popular,  1 139. 
Criminals,    elephants   employed    as    exe- 
cutioners of,  356. 
Crispe,  sir  Charles,  notice  of.  941 
Crocodile,  the  first   1'vin^  one  in  England, 

1605. 

Croker,T.C.,  jaunting  car  described  by, 241. 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  original  letter  of,  91 1. 
Cross,  Paul's,  history  and  engraving  of,  415. 

Mr.,    account     of   his    elephant    at 

Exeter  Change,  323. 

buns,  410. 

Crucifixion,  Christ's,  celebration  of  at  Se- 
ville, 422 ;  relics  of,  426. 
Cruikshank,  George,   phrenological    illus- 
trations by,  111  9. 

Cuckoo,  the,  observations  on,  1138. 
Cumberland,  customs  in,  450,  668. 
Cup,  the  clay  en,  or  clorne,  or  clomen,  1652. 
Cupid,  the  popular  representation  of,  en- 
graving of,  and  satire  on,  1545. 
Curling,  game  of,  163. 

Daft-days,  13. 

Dalmahoy,  Mr.,  statement  of,  1527. 

Dalmer,  a  baker,   how   his  fortune  made, 

1561. 

Dan  by,  lord,  anecdote  of,  1095. 
Dancing,  (morris,)  792. 
-bears,  1560. 


Darkness  and  fog  in  1813,  101. 
Darlington,  earl  of,  1 376. 
Daughters,  a  curious  present  to  one,  i"560 
Davenant,  sir  \V.,  notice  of,  521 


1677 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1678 


Davis,  George,  a  sleep-walker,  1296. 

Days,  lucky,  notice  of  a  supposed  one,  1 320. 

Death,  apparition  of  the  chariot  of,  978 ; 
account  of  the  "  death  fetch/'  in  an 
Irish  tale,  1013 ;  opera  of  "  The  Death- 
fetch"  noticed,  1011;  prayers  for  prisoners 
under  sentence  of  death,  1378;  death  of 
the  State  Lottery,  1499,  1502;  annual 
death  of  a  whole  people,  1581. 

Debtors,  fraudulent,  singular  case  of  one, 
1241. 

Dedication,  of  joints  of  the  fingers  to 
saints,  94. 

Deer,  Sion  Gardens  lottery  for,  1446. 

D'Eglantine,  Faber,  why  so  called,  605. 

Delaval,  sir  F.  B.,  curious  anecdote  of, 
1471. 

Dellicot,  William,  convicted  of  stealing  a 
penny,  899. 

Den  of  the  elephant  killed  at  Exeter 
Change,  engraving  of,  335. 

Denny,  D.,  lottery  fraud  of,  1 46fi 

Derby,  West,  customs  of,  432. 

Derbyshire,  customs  in,  451,  637. 

Devil,  history  of  the  good  devil  of  Wood- 
stock, 582;  engravitigof  St. Michael  stand- 
ing on  the  devil,  1271  ;  called  by  James  I. 
a  busy  bishop,  1239  ;  his  usual  shape  an 
empty  bottle,  1241 ;  overlooking  Lin- 
coln College,  1236;  superstitions  respect- 
ing him,  1238. 

Devils,  printers',  1239. 

Devonshire,  customs  in,  666,  1009,  1170, 
1652. 

Dew,  (May,)  dancers  at  Arthur's  seat,  Edin- 
burgh, 409. 

Diaries,  curious  extracts  from  one,  1805. 

Dibdin,  Charles,  his  opera  of"  The  Water- 
man" noticed,  1062. 

Digby,  lord,  annual  tolling  for,  1255. 

Dimsdale,sir  H.,  mayor  of  Garrett,  824,838. 

Dinners,  curious  invitation  to  one,  508; 
anecdote  of  an  election  one,  1 193. 

Diogenes  and  his  lantern,  print  of,  644. 

Dissenters,  their  celebrations  of  throwing 
out  the  Schism  Bill,  1061. 

Diversions,  curio  i«  one  of  a  widowed  hus- 
band, 1020. 

Doctors,  the  W>urworth  one,  477. 

Does,  origin  of  carrying  a  buck  and  a  aoe 
in  St.  Paul's  cathedral,  119. 

Dogget,  Thomas,  actor,  notice  of,  and  of 
his  coat  and  badge  rowing  for,  1062. 

Dog,  ludicrous  trial  of,  198  ;  and  of  the  dog 
of  Heriot's  hospital,  759. 

Dolmoors,  Somersetshire,  custom  at,  917, 
921. 

Dragon,  St.  George  and  the,  engraving  of, 
1274. 

Dramas,  fertility  in  producing,  1133. 

Draper,  Elizabeth,  account  of  her  wedding- 
dress  in  1550,  796. 

Drawing  of  the  Lottery,  engraving  of,  114 1 . 
See  Lottery. 


Dreams,  Mr.  Clay  delivered  from  danger  by 
one,  367;  curious  remarks  on  dreams", 
1537;  notices  of  dreams,  1578,  1581. 

Dress,  a  lady's  in  1550,  796;  engraving  of 
an  ancient  dress  for  autumn,  1342. 

Drop  handkerchief,  custom  of,  665. 

Drummond,  lady  Jane,  notice  of,  748. 

Drunkenness,  singular  advertisement  touch- 
ing, 938. 

Dublin,  May  day  in,  595. 

Duck,  Stephen,  the  thresher  poet,  1 103. 

hunting,  description  of,  1403. 

Duelling,  memorandum  to  men  of  honour 
touching,  942. 

Dulce  domum,  supposed  origin  of,  710. 

Duncan,  lord,  notice  of,  1315. 

Dunck,  Miss,  a  great  heiress,  898. 

Dunkirk,  cow  mass  at,  870. 

Dunmow,  Essex,  ancient  custom  at.  engrav- 
ing of,  799. 

Dunning,  John,  (lord  Ashburton,)  died, 
notice  of,  1087. 

Dunstable,  mode  of  catching  larks  at,  1  18. 

Dunstan,  sir  Jeffery,  mayor  of  Garrett,  82  1 
829. 

Durham,  county  of,  ceremony  of  a  new 
bishop  entering,  1044. 

city  of,  custom  at,  447. 


ox,  complaint  of,  1547. 

Dwarf,  curious  one,  1605. 
Dyne,  Corey,  a  noted  backsword  player 
1341. 

Eagle,  a  royal  bird,  1077. 

Tavern,    City-road,    wrestling  at, 


1337. 

Earthquakes,  one  felt  in  Cornwall  in  1757, 
1007. 

Earwigs,  1099. 

East  Bourn,  custom  of  sops  and  ale  at,  6;)3. 

Easter-day,  457  ;  extreme  possible  differ- 
ence of  time  in  its  happening,  457. 

Edinburgh,  celebrated  for  fine  skaters, 
117;  notice  of  Heriot's  hospital  in,  and 
of  the  founder,  746;  custom  in,  609. 

Edward,  king  of  the  West  Saxons,  390. 

Egede,  Paul,  a  Danish  missionary,  died, 
731. 

Eggs,  paste,  439,  450 ;  filled  with  salt,  pro- 
phetic virtue  of,  1560. 

Election,  general,  in  1826,799,  818;  de- 
scription of  a  Westminster  election,  8=>3 , 
occurrence  bt  an  election  dinner,  1193; 
curious  account  of  election  expenses, 
1659,  1660. 

Elections,  mock,  of  mayor  of  Garrett,  819 
851 ;  of  mayor  of  Bartlemass,  for  New- 
biuy,1045 

Electricity  in  clouds,  curious  and  dreadful 
case  of  in  Java,  1082. 

Elephama,  island  of,  849. 

Elephantiasis,  357 

Elephants,  account  of  the  one  called  Chun* 
killed  at  Exeter  Change,  321,&c.;  nar- 


.679 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1680 


ratives  and  anecdotes  concerning  ele- 
phants, 337 — 356;  particulars  relating  to 
one  killed  at  Geneva,  700. 

Elia,  notice  of  the  writings  of  Mr.  Lamb, 
so  signed,  1255. 

Elizabeth,  queen,  and  dean  of  St.  Paul's .; 
curious  colloquy  between,  1367. 

Emerson,  W.,  autograph  and  notice  of, 
690. 

Encroachments  resisted,  1207. 

Encyclopedia,  a  universal  natural  one,  pro- 
posed by  Adanson,  1 1 68. 

Enghien,  storm  at,  1 235. 

England,  merry,  description  of,  36 ;  called 
the  Ringing  Island,  509. 

Englishmen,  difference  between  their  for- 
mer and  present  habits,  11. 

Ensham,  Oxfordshire,  custom  in,  669. 

Epitaphs,  on  T.  Jackson,  390;  on  the 
State  Lottery,  1525:  on  Henry  Jenkins, 
1604 

Eppingf  forest,  Easter  hunt  in,  459,  460. 

Equator,  custom  of  sailors  on  passing, 
1391. 

Equinox,  autumnal,  gales  of,  1283. 

Erskine,  lord,  a  poem  on  "  The  Rook" 
supposed  to  be  written  by,  1 139. 

Essex,  great  mortality  of  wives  in,  923; 
harvest  custom  in,  1172. 

Estates,  the  Three,  curious  political  drama 
called,  15. 

Every-Day  Book ;  memoranda  on  Vol.  I., 
1550;  to  be  immediately  followed  by  a 
work  called  «  The  Table  Book,"  1664. 

Evil,  royal  notice  of  continuing  to  heal 
it,  682. 

Ewes,  signs  of  rain  given  by,  510. 

Exchequer  bills,  origin  of,  29. 

Executions,  of  lords  Kilmarnock  and  Bal- 
merino,  1096. 

Exercises,  gymnastic.    See  Gymnastics. 

Exeter,  lemmas  fair,  1059. 

Change,  dead  elephant  at,  321. 

Eye,  evil ;  preventive  against  the  blink  of, 
"in  Scotland,  688. 

Faces,  (human,)  curious  medley  of,  1537. 
Facts,  instances  of  their  coincidence  with 

predictions,  456. 
Fair,  (frost,)  on  the  river  Thames  in  1814, 

110. 

Fairlop  oak,  a  pulpit  made  of,  1564. 
Fairs  on  St.  Patrick's  day  in  Ireland,  383. 
Falkirk,   a   gruel  against  witchcraft    still 

made  and  sold  at,  688. 
Fallowfield,  Mr.,  speculation  of,  520. 
Falstaff,   the  Cornish,   (Payne    Anthony,) 

notice  of,  969. 
Families,  long  exemption  from  death  in 

one,  899. 
Farrell,  Mr.,  engraving  of  a  fountain  in  his 

window,  785. 
Fair  en,  notice  of,  894. 
Fatality  of  days,  work  concerning,  1320. 


Fathers,  a  curious  present  from  one,  1560. 
Fearn,   Scotland,   accident    in   church   of, 

1307. 

"  Feast  of  fools,"  485,  487. 
Fens   in  Essex  and  Kent,  dangerous  resi 

.dence  in,  9? 3. 
Fermor,  family  of,   1376. 
Fetch,  (Death,)  opera  so  called,  notice  of, 

101 1. 
Fielding,    Henry,    his   farce   called  "  The 

Lottery,"  1447. 

Figg,  the  prize-fighter,  notice  of,  780. 
Fingers,   joints   of,  dedicated    to    saints, 

95. 
Fires,  great  or  fatal,  in  Lincoln's  inn,  880  ; 

at   a    puppet   show,    1225;    hallow-eve 

fires,    1259;    passing    through    fires,  or 

lighting  them  in  honour  of  Baal  or  the 

the   sun,    865,    870 ;    beginning   of  the 

season  for  lighting  fires,  1359. 
Fish,  curious  revolution  in,  769. 
Fisher,  Kitty,  (duchess  of  Bolton,)  adver- 
tisement by,  474. 

Fishing,  Thunny,  at  Marseilles,  647. 
Fitz-Ootri,  (Robin     Hood,)     memoir   of, 

1636. 
Fleet-ditch,  notice  of  a  boar  passing  through 

it  into  the  Thames,  1 1 13. 
market,  contract  for  building  in  1736, 

1357. 
Fleetwood,  recorder  of  London,  a  spring 

diversion  of,  532. 
Flies,  notice  of  the  May-fly,  770. 
Flitch  of  bacon,  custom  touching,  799. 
Floral  games  of  Toulouse,  599. 
Flower,   Margaret  and    Phillis,   executed 

for  witchcraft,  371. 
Flowers,  artificial,  curious  advertisement 

of,  172. 

Flying  machines,  fatal  accident  by,  1291. 
Fog,  remarkable  one  in  1813,  101. 
Fontenoy  battle,  singular  opening  of,  560. 
Fools,  April,  custom  of  making,  485 ;  order 

of  fools,  1287. 
Foot- ball,  374. 
Foote,  Samuel,  the  actor,  notice  of,  815; 

his"  Mayor  of  Garrett,"  816;  anecdote 

of,  1471. 

Forcing-houses,  guarded  against  hail,  1237. 
Fordyce,  Dr.,  and   others,  experiments  on 

heat  by,  776. 

Forests,  their  beauty  in  autumn,  1283. 
Forgery, extreme  ingenuity  and  vigilance  in, 

1476. 

Fortunatus  lottery,  1440. 
"  Fortunes  of  Nigel,"  a  novel,  nofjce   of 

766. 

Fortune-telling  by  means  of  snails  in  Scot- 
land, 685. 
Foster,  rev. ,    a  dissenting  minister, 

notice  of,  1096. 

Fountain  in  June,  engraving  of,  785. 
Fountain's  abbey,  a  beautiful  ruin,  1061 . 
France,  spending  of  twelfth  night  in,  31 


1R81 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1682 


lotteries  in,  1532,  &c. ;  lark-shooting  in, 

90 ;  harvest  in,  377. 
Free,   Mrs.,  her  curious  application  about 

a  lottery  prize,  1443. 
Freeman's  well,  the,  at  Alnwick,  2 19. 
Freemasons,  engraving   and  account  of  a 

procession  burlesquing,  522. 
French,  Thomas,  a  singular  pauper,  679. 
Frost,  great,  in  1814, 101 j  frost  fair,  109. 
Fruits,  the  pleasure  of    buying   our  own, 

1188;    how    to    mark    growing     fruits, 

1213. 

Funerals,  a  remarkable  one,  681. 
Fuseli,  H.,  painter,  notice  of,  551. 

Gainsborough,  Thomas,  painter,  notice  of, 

1065. 

Gall  and  Spurzheim,  Drs.,  notice  of,  1122. 
Galloway,  lord,  poetical  lamentation,  &c. 

of,  631. 
Game  laws,  copy  of  the  order  for  swans, 

958. 

Gaming  ;  a  child  played  for  at  cards,  1344. 
Gammon  of  bacon,  custom  about,  729. 
Garden- walks,    singular    management    of, 

recommended,  518. 
Gardiner,  col.,  anecdote  of,  694. 
Garrett,  in  Wandsworth  road,  election  of 

mayor  of,  819. 

Garrick,  David,  anecdote  of,  61 ;  play-bill 
of  his  first  appearance  in  London,  1336  ; 
further  notice,  1652. 

Gaskill,Isaac,  penance  done  by, in  182 6,  982. 
Gassendi,  explanation  by,  of  bloody  rain, 

1128. 

Gathering  of  May-dew,  engraving  of,  609. 
Gay  science,  the,  college  for  at  Toulouse, 

602. 
Gazette,  first  published  at  Oxford  in  1665, 

1384;  origin  of  the  name,  ib. 
Geneva,  engraving  of  the  death  of  an  ele- 
phant at,  706. 

madanie,  lying  in  state,  1 269. 

Gentlemen,  old  English,  their  houses  and 

mode  of  living,   162-0 — 1624. 
George  IV.,  his  birthday  noticed,  1083. 
GerardVhall,  London,  May-pole  of,  612. 
German' showman,  engraving  and  notice  of, 

1329. 

Ghosts.    See  Apparitions. 
Gibbon,  John,  notice  of,  1  458. 
Gideon,  sir  Sampson,  fraud  of,  touching  lot- 
teries, 1458. 

Gilchrist,  Dr.  John,  his  gift  to  Heriot's  hos- 
pital, 766. 

Gin  lane,  272  ;  gin  act,  notice  of,  1269. 
Glasgow    and   Ayr,  synod  of,  decision   of 

respecting  Sunday,  1156. 
Glastonbury  thorn,  1641. 
Gleaning   apples   from    the    trees,  (called 

griggling,)  1269. 

Glendower,  Owen,  notice  of,  1026. 
"  Glory  of  Regality,"  Mr.  Taylor's  excellent 
work  called,  995. 


Gloucestershire,  harvest  custom  in,  1164. 
Go,  (little  and  great,)  lottery,  notice  of, 

1498. 
God,  mother  of,  curious  address  to  Mary  as, 

1089. 

God  save  the  king,  air  of,  538 
Goddards,  attempt  at  explanation  of,  113T. 
Gold,  an  image  of,  dug  up,  notice  of,  1606. 
Golding's  model  lottery,  1 583. 
Good  Friday,  410. 
Gordon,  lord  George,  831. 
Gossamer,  showers  of,  produced  by  the  field 

spider,  1188,  1332. 
Gottingen  university,  1243. 
Grain,   rogue   in,    an  acknowledged    one, 

729. 

Grant, sir  A., expelled  the  Commons,  1451. 
Grasshoppers,  1 150. 
Greatness,    ludicrous    complaint    against, 

1547. 

Green,  Valentine,  685. 
Greenwich  hospital    adventure,  lottery  so 

called,  1446. 

Gregory,  Dr.  George,  died,  notice  of,  369. 
Griggling  orchards,  in  Herefordshire,  1270. 
Grocer's  sugar  hogshead,  with  boys,  notice 

and  cut,  1562. 
Gruel  against  witchcraft,  still  made  and  sold 

in  Scotland,  688. 

Guard,  yeomen  of,  instituted  in  1485, 1351. 
Guildford,  old,  church,  accident  in,  542. 
Guilds ;  Necton  (in  Norfolk)  guild,  engrav- 
ing and  account  of,  669. 
Gutch,  Mr.,  his  account  of  the  pretended 

Caraboo,  1634. 
Gymnastics,  society   for,  in  London,  653; 

engraving  of  gymnastic  exercises,  658. 

Hackneymen,  instances  of  honesty  of,  902. 

Hail,  guarding  forcing-houses  against,!  237. 

Hair  powder,  convictions  about,  1564. 

Halde,  J.  B-  Du,died,  1297. 

Halifax,  earl  of,  marriage  of,  898. 

Hall,  capt.  H.,  his  description  of  passing 
the  line,  1394. 

Halls,  ancient,  description  of  one,  1617. 

Haltow-eve  fires,  1259. 

Halo,  lunar,  extraordinary  one,  1537. 

Hamburgh,  feast  of  cherries  at,  1040. 

Hamilton,  general,  killed  in  a  duel  by  col. 
Burr,  942. 

Hammersmith  pump,  engraving  of,  1231. 

Hampden,  John,  letter  and  autograph  of, 
475 

Hand-bills,  distributed  atBartholomew-fair, 
1196. 

Handkerchief,  drop,  custom  of  in  Devon- 
shire, 666. 

Hanger,  col.,  his  description  of  a  Westmin- 
ster election,  853. 

Hanover,  no  State  Lottery  ever  in,  1535. 

Harburgh  lottery,  bill  to  suppress,  1  116. 

Hardouin,  Pere,  died,  notice  of,  1592. 

Harper,  John,  (sir  John,)  mayor  of  G 


1C83 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1681 


823,  834,  8 42  ;  engraving  of  his  election. 

839. 
Harrington,  sir  J.,  election  expenses,  &c.  of, 

1659,  1660. 

Harris,  a  sleep-walker,  1299. 
Hartsyde,  Margaret,  notice  of,  750. 
Harvest-home,  engraving   of,   1153,  1158; 

harvesting  on  a  Sunday,  notice  of,  1 156 ; 

notice  of  harvest  in  France,  877. 
Hastings,  Mr.,  an  old  English  gentleman, 

1624. 

Halherleigh,  Devonshire,  customs  in,  142. 
Hawkesbury  in  Cotswold,  harvest-home  in, 

engraving  of,  1 153. 
Hawthorn,  Glastonbury,  1642. 
Ilazlitt,  Mr.,  notice  of,  1257. 
Health,  art  of  preserving,  195  1615;  drink- 
ing health  in  harvest,  1168,  1171. 
Heat,  great   degrees  of,   safely  borne,  and 

how,  771. 
Hedgehogs,  wandering  about  Oldham   by 

day,  in  939. 

Hell,  a  pageant  representation  of.  872. 
Helston,  Cornwall,  notice  of  (e  Furry"  at, 

648. 
Henry  VII.,  chapel  of,  built  by  sir  Reginald 

Bray,  1072. 
Herefordshire,  "crying  the  mare"  in,  11 63; 

griggling,  and  making  of  cider  in,  1269. 
Heriot's    hospital,   Edinburgh,    engraving 

and   notice  of,  and  also  of  the  founder, 

746,  747  ;  his  arms  and  autograph,  913. 
Herod  and  Herodias,  1 140. 
Highgate,  swearing   on    the   horns  at,  79, 

378. 

Hinge,  the,  Carna  goddess  of,  727. 
Hitchin,  in  Hertfordshire,  custom  at,  1 174. 
Hoare,  sir  R.C.,  1022. 
Hob,  (old.)  custom  of  in  Cheshire,  1871. 
Hogg,  Thomas,  (cheap  Tommy,)  942. 
[logman y,  a  new  year's  usage  in  Scotland, 

1 3 ;  similar  in  England,  73, 
Holland,  Ann  duchess  of  Exeter,  her  will, 

831. 

Chanes,  actor,  anecdote  of,  1461. 

Holy  Thursday,  custom  on,  636. 
Home,  the  poor  man's  described,  564. 
Honey,  to  take  without  killing  the  bees, 

1323. 

Honeycomb,  Will,  432. 
Hoo,  in  Kent,  mortality  of  wives  in,  921. 
Hood,  Mr.  T.,  notices  of  his   Progress  of 

Cant,  130  ;  and  his  Whims  and  Oddities, 

1537 

Hornchurch,  custom  of,  1649. 
Home,  W.  A.  esq.,  notice  of,  1 192. 
Horns,  swearing  on,  at  Highgate,  79,  378 ; 

horns  prohibited  to  newsmen,  1276. 
Ilornsey,  new  river  at,  engraving  of,  1311. 
Horse-racing,  early  notice  of,  539  ;  with 

women-riders,  at  Ripon,  lOfil  ;  at  Sad- 
ler's Wells,  1561. 
Horses,  an  extraordinary  one  fur  ai^e  and 

excellence,  129  I. 


Hosier,  admiral,  1392. 

Hot  cross- buns,  410. 

Hours,  the  three,  of  Christ's   crucifixion, 

celebration  of,  42 1 
House,   Sam.,  the    Westminster   publican, 

,853. 
Houses,    hot    or    forcing,    how    guarded 

against  hail,  1237;  of  old  English  gen- 
tlemen, 1620. 
Howard,  Mr.  Luke,  his  treatise  on  the  cli 

mate  of  London  recommended,  3. 
Howel  Sele,  notice  of,  1027. 
Hug,  Cornish,  1010. 
Humphrey,  duke,  dining  with,  625. 
Hungerford,  Wiltshire,  revel  at,  1399. 
Hunting,  of  elephants,  338,  &c. ;  in  Epping 

forest  at  Easter,  459,  460. 
Hurling,  description  of,  1008. 
Hurricanes,  see  Storms. 
Husbands,  a  wife's  sale  of  her  dead  one, 

1301. 
Hutf.oo  Conyers,  whimsical  custom  in,  21. 

Idiots,  curious  account  of  one,  244. 
Illusions,  1557,  1559;  see  Apparitions. 
Images,   common     Italian,   engravings    of 

some  of  them,  311,  312,  315;   colloquy 

on  images  in  churches,   1367;   account 

of  digging  up  a  gold  image,  1606. 
Imposture,     extraordinary.       See     Price, 

Charles. 

Incest,  penance  performed  for, in  1826,982. 
India,  lottery  for  women  in,  1518. 
Indifferents,  the,  order  of  merit  so  named, 

696. 
Infants,  jocular  account  of  night-nursing 

them,  1541. 
Ink,  writing,  265. 
"  Inkle  and   Yarico,"  curious  criticism  on, 

143. 
Inscriptions,  a  curious  one  with  a   key  to 

it,    732  ;     singular    colloquy    touching 

images    and    inscriptions    in   churches, 

1367. 
Insurance,  on  marriages,  births,  &c.  1436  ; 

for   lottery    tickets,    I486,    1461,    1496; 

curious   trial   about    lottery    insurance, 

1469. 
Interment,   provision    in    a    will    against, 

1325. 

Inverary,  astonishing  rain  at,  1215. 
Invitations,  curious  one  to  dinner,  508. 
Ireland,  festival  in  honour  of  Baal  in,   66, 

866  ;    travelling    in,  represented,    239  ; 

singular  devotion  in,  relative  to  Christ's 

passion,   411  ;     superstitions     touching 

death  in,  1012  ;  lottery  job  in,  1457. 
Irish  linen,  remarkably  fine  piece  of,  1616. 
Iron  mask,  man  with  the,  1559. 
Isaure,  Clemence,  of  Toulouse,  600. 
Islington,  (St.  Mary,)  old  church,  engraving, 

502. 

Italy,  lotteries  in,  1531     1554. 
Ivy  lane,  1135. 


• 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


It  £6 


Jack  Ketch  and  Newgate,  notice  of,  694. 

Jackson,  Thomas,  inscription  on,  390. 

Jacobin  club,  origin  of,  971. 

Jam,  blackberry,  receipt  for,  1116. 

James  I.  and  Ann  of  Denmark,  marriage 
of,  1100. 

II.,  notice  of,  1320;  anecdote  touch- 
ing a  statue  of,  487. 

January  SO,  remarkable  sermon  preached 
on,  149. 

Java,  curious  and  dreadful  case  of  electri- 
cal cloud  in,  1082. 

Javasu,  pretended  birth-place  of  an  im- 
postor, 1633. 

Jekyll,  sir  J.,  obnoxious  through  the  gin 
act,  1269. 

Jenkins,  Henry,  older  than  Old  Parr,  engra- 
ving and  notice  of,  1602. 

Jersey,  earl  of,  1376. 

"  Jesus,  Maria,  Joseph,"  &c.,  extract  from 
a  curious  book  so  titled,  1089. 

Jewels,  of  queen  Ann  of  Denmark,  notice 
of,  749  ;  lottery  for  disposing  of  prince 
Rupert's,  1445. 

Jews,  two  procured  to  be  baptized  the 
day  before  Easter  at  Rome,  437;  custom 
of  eating  bacon  at  Easter  in  abhorrence 
of  them,  433  ;  prejudice  against,  and  in- 
teresting account  of  one,  533 ;  trial 
touching  the  validity  of  a  Jewish  mar- 
riage, 1611  ;  their  hatred  of  Mamre  fair, 
1034. 

Johnson,  Dr.  S.,  remarks  on,  271. 

Jones,  John,  of  Wandsworth,  notice  and 
engraving  of,  820,  821,  &c. 

Joseph  of  Arimathea,  and  the  Glast  nbury 
thorn,  1642. 

Joshua,  the  inventor  of  lotteries,  1 529. 

Judas  the  traitor,  425. 

Judges,  dancing  round  the  coal  fire,  custom 
of,  174;  collars  worn  by,  538. 

Juggling,  outdone  by  science,  780. 

Justice,  H.,  esq.,  transported  for  stealing 
books,  652. 


Keats,  John,  died,  250. 

Kensington  palace,  supposed  long  subter- 
ranean passage  to,  1607;  notice  of 
Kensington  gardens,  781. 

Kent,  customs  in,  1162,  1642;  Weald  of 
Kent,  origin  of,  450 ;  fens  of,  morta- 
lity of  wives  in,  923. 

Keppel,  A.  J.  V.,  first  earl  of  Albemarle, 
1375. 

Ketch,  (Jack)  and  Newgate,  694. 

Keys,  Mr.,  melancholy  case  of,  1459. 

Kidlington,  Oxfordshire,  festival  called 
Lady  of  the  Lamb  in,  669. 

Kilburn,  John,  cheap  travelling  of,  79 1. 

Kilmarnock,  earl  of,  executed,  1096. 

Kindness,  natural  to  women,  1614. 

Kings'  speeches,  notice  of  one  of  James  I., 
1239. 


Kingshill,at  Rochfort,  Essex,  Lawless  court 
at,  1286. 

Kirklees,  Yorkshire,  1638. 

Kissing-crust,  1563. 

Kitchen-maid,  engraving  of  one  in  a  loiter* 
puff,  1503. 

Kitchener,  Dr.,  1550. 

Knill,  John,  esq.,  patron  of  athletic  exer- 
cises in  Cornwall,  1010. 

Ladies,  wedding  preparations  of  one   in 

1550,  797. 

Lady,  the  old,  character  of,  189. 
Lambs,  anecdote  of  the  sale  of,  395. 
Lammas  towers,  in  Mid-Lothian,  1051 
Lamp-black,  receipt  for,  266. 
Lancashire,  custom  in,  660. 
Lance,  holy,  account  and  engraving  of,  426, 

427,  &c. 

Land-lady,  fright  of  one,  1549. 
Lands,  local  custom  of  laying  out,  917. 
Lanterns,  Chinese  festival  of,  90. 
Largess,  a  harvest  cry,  1 158,  1 166,  1 173. 
Larks,  taken  by  glasses  at  Dunstable,  1 18. 
Laughing  boy,  engraving  of,  543. 
Laundon,  (now  Threekingham,)  1246. 
Law,  whimsical  account  of,  232  ;  curious 

action  at,  1389.     See  Trials. 
Lawrence,  Mrs.,  her  seat  of  Studley  Royal 

described,  1061. 
Ledyard,    his     interesting    character      of 

women,  1614. 
Leeches,  unhurt  by  frost,  56  ;  form  a  good 

weather-guide,  491. 

Legat,  Bartholomew,  an  Arian,  burnt,  374. 
Leheup,  Peter,  fined  for  lottery  fraud,  1458 
Leicester  house,  Leicester-square,  997. 
Leigh  and  Sotheby,  booksellers,  notice  of, 

696. 

Lent,  curious  penance  for  transgressing,41 6 
Lenthall,  W.,  speaker,  original    letter   of 

Oliver  Cromwell  to,  911. 
Leanidas  of  Tarentum,  510. 
Lever,  sir  Ashton,  notices  and  engravings 

of  his  museum,  985—994. 
Levy,  J.,  a  Jew,  interesting  account  of,  533 
Lewes,  Mr.  Sheriff,  petition  in  1775  against 

lotteries,  1462. 
Licenses,  application  for  one  to  kill  thieves 

1189. 

Lichfield,  customs  of,  667. 
Lifting,  a  custom  called,  1562. 
Lightning, observations  on,  and  fatal  effects 

upon  a  theatre  at  Venice,  1130,  1132. 
Lincoln  college,  Oxford,  the  devil  looking 

over,  1236. 

Lincoln's  inn,  great  fire  in,  880. 
Lincolnshire,  custom  in,  394. 
Lindians  soliciting  public    subscriptions, 

notice  of,  1111. 
Lindsay,  sir  D.,  curious  political  drama  by 

15. 
Line,  custom  of  sailors  on  crossing  (he, 

1394. 


1687 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


irss 


Linen,  Irish,  remarkably  fine  pieces  of, 
1816. 

Linton,  Kent,  custom  of  "doleing"  at,  1627. 

Literature,  dramatic,  instance  of  fertility 
in,  1131. 

Little  John,  and  Robin  Hood,  1634,  &c. 

Littlecotes-house,  Buckinghamshire,  de- 
scribed, and  adventure  at,  1617. 

Living,  reasons  for,  1591. 

Locksley,  in  Ivanhoe,  representative  of 
Robin  Hood,  1638. 

London,  Howard's  treatise  on  its  climate 
recommended,  3  ;  season  of  winter  in, 
48;  engravings  of  city  seals,  257,  881  ; 
spring  in  the  city,  542  ;  notice  and  en- 
graving touching  old  watch  of,  619,  869; 
gymnastic  society  in,  653 ;  the  season 
in,  781 ;  materials  of  old  city  gates  sold 
in  1760, 1043  ;  Ivy-lane  in,  1 185 ;  Caesar's 
camp  near,  1345,  1566;  lord  mayor's 
day,  1386;  old  sights  in  1751,  1605; 
election  for  city  officers,  1626. 

Gazette,  1384. 

Journal  in  1731  on  lotteries,  1451. 

Long,  Edward,  his  ludicrous  "Trial  of  a 
dog  for  murder,"  198  ;  died,  910. 

Longforgan,  in  Scotland,  custom  at,  1175. 

Lopez  de  Vega,  died,  notice  of,  1 132. 

Lord-mayor,  celebration  of  his  day,  1 132  ; 
singular  robbery  of,  near  Turn  ham-green, 
1389. 

Loscoe,  Derbyshire,  the  miser  of,  1192. 

Lostwithiel,  Cornwall,  custom  at,  441. 

Lothian,  (Mid)  Lammas  towers  in,  1051. 

Lotteries,  engravings  and  very  numerous 
notices  of,  1335,  1405,  &c.  &c. 

Love,  satire  on  the  popular  representation 
of,  1515. 

lane,  Camberwell,  1101. 

tokens,  formerly  given,  1 100. 

,  David,  engraving  and  notice  of,  225, 

J575. 

Lovelace,  eel.  R.,  notice  of,  561. 

Lovers,  dream  of  one,  1539. 

Luck  in  lotteries,  curious  instance  of,  1461. 

Lucky  numbers  in  lotteries,  notices  of, 
1437. 

Ludgate-hill,  engraving  relative  to  old 
watch  tower  on  city  wall  near,  629. 

Lully,  J.  B.,  notice  of,  403. 

Lumley,  lord,  1376. 

Lunar  halo. extraordinary,  1537. 

Lunn,  Sally,  buns  of,  1561. 

Lusus  naturae,  accounts  of,  444,  445. 

Lyings  in,  cus',om  at,  1331. 

Lynn,  custom  at,  223. 

Macdonald,  Flora,  1 148. 

Magdale.neide,  a  curious  poem  so  called, 

1006. 
Maids,  (the  two  Biddenden,)  account  and 

engraving  of,  442,  443. 
Maidstone.  custom  at,  1627. 
Mamre,  Abraham's  oak  at,  1033. 


Man  with  the  iron  mask,  1539. 

Mansfield,  earl  of,  his  autograph,  S96. 

Mantle-pieces,  use  of,  1350. 

Manuscripts,  accidental  loss  of  valuable 
ones,  1617. 

March,  J.  C.,  epitaph  on,  478. 

Mare,  crying  the,  custom  of,  1 163. 

Margarets,  William,  a  rogue  in  grain,  729. 

Marl,  ninepenny,  game  called,  983,  1661. 

Marlborough,  duke  of,  794 

Marriages,  a  singularly  disproportioned 
one,  651  ;  custom  of  flitch  of  bacon  re- 
lating to,  799  ;  of  Jews,  trial  about  one 
1611  ;  insurance  on.  1436. 

Martins,  1562. 

Marseilles,  thunny  fishing  at,  647  ;  festival 
at,  1643. 

Martyr's  stone  at  Hadleigh,  Suffolk,  212. 

Marvel,  Andrew,  died,  notice  of,  1095. 

Mary,  (the  Virgin,)  Romish  titles  of,  1610 

Mask,  iron,  the  man  with  the,  1559. 

Mason,  col.,  concentrates  Norfolk  fes- 
tivities in  Necton,  669. 

Mass,  (Cow,)  at  Dunkirk,  description  of, 
870. 

Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  notice  of, 
1113. 

Massey,  Mr.  W.,  his  account  of  election  of 
mayor  of  Garrett,  826. 

Matches,  burlesque  company  for  making 
1581. 

Matthews  at  home,  engraving  and  notice 
of,  465. 

Maundy  Thursday,  celebration  of,  at 
Seville  and  Rome,  405,  409. 

May, Cornelius,  644. 

dew,    notice    and    engraving    about 

gathering  of,  610. 

fly,  770. 

Mayo,  Ben,  "  the  old  general"  of  Notting- 
ham, 1569. 

Mayors,  of  Bartlemass,  1045;  of  Garrett, 
819,  &c. 

May-pole*,  engravings  and  notices  of,  574, 
575,  579,594,  640,  660. 

Measures  and  weights,  126. 

Meat,  over-fed,  satire  on,  1547. 

Medley  of  human  faces,  1537. 

Me  chants,  emblem  for,  1327. 

Mercury,  engraving  of,  ib. 

Merit,  curious  order  of,  at  Paris,  696. 

Merlin's  cave  in  Richmond  gardens,  1 103. 

Merriman,  Mr.,  at  fairs,  1291. 

Mid-Lothian,  Lammas  towers  in,  1051. 

Middleton  Monday,  1571. 

Milk-maids,  engraving  of  one  in  a  lottery 
puff,  1520  ;  garland  of,  1562. 

Minden,  battle  of,  1628. 

Minerva,  engraving  and  notice  of,  46S. 

Miser  of  Loscoe,  1 192. 

Mists,  1295. 

Model  lottery,  1583. 

Money,  turning  of,  on  new  moon  of  new 
year,  44. 


689 


TEIE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1690 


Montague,  Mrs.,  her  annual  dinner  to  chim- 
ney-sweepers, 693. 
Monlgolfier,  Messrs.,  1567. 
Months,  Woolley's   curious  representation 
of  the,5l5  ;  ancientCornish names of,970. 
Moody,  Joe,  683. 

Moon,  accounts  of  lunar  rainbows,  1229, 
1230;  extraordinary  lunar   halo,    1537  j 

discoveries  in  the  moon,  1595. 
More,  sir  T.,  credulity  of,  425. 
Morecroft,  Mr.   T  ;  (the   Spectator's  Will 

Wimble,)  died,  SsT 
Morris,  nine  men's,  game  called,  983,  1661. 

dancing.  792. 

,  captain  T.,  ditd,  221. 

Mosely,  Dr.,  a  carious  criticism  of,  143. 
Mother  of  God,  curious  address  to,  1089. 
Mountebanks   at  White  Conduit-house  in 

1826,   1291. 

Mountgoddard-street,  London,  1 137. 
Mulberries,  numerous  kinds  of,  1069, &c. 
Mummers,  1645,  &c. 
Munden,  the  actor,  notice  of,  894. 
Murder,  ludicrous  trial  of  a  dog  for,  198. 
Murphy,  Arthur,  author,  notice  of,  797. 
Museum.  Leverian,  engraving  and  notice 

of,  986,  &c. 
Music,  of  a  harvest  cry,  1171;   Canada  and 

America   in  general,  deficient   in  vocal 

music,  713;  notice  of  the  death  song  of 

the  swan,  965,  966;  lottery  for   a   fine 

organ,  1453. 

"  My  sonjsir,"  ludicrous  engraving,  1542. 
Mysteries,  old  dramas,  notice  of,  500. 

Nanneu,  the  haunted  oak  of,  in  Wales,  10?2. 
Napoli,  in  Greece,  celebration  of  Easter  in, 

454. 
Naseby,  battle  of,  original  letter  of  Oliver 

Cromwell  about,  911. 

Nassau,William,(first  earl  ofRochfort,)  1376. 
Naturalists'  calendar  proposed,  25. 
Nature  and  art,  310. 
^avy,  pressing  men  in  church  for,  449. 
Necton,   in  Norfolk,  Whitsuntide  festivals 

established  in,  669  ;  engraving,  671. 
Nelson,  lord,  1343,  1356. 
Neptune,  personified  by  sailors,  custom  of, 

1S94. 

Nests,  attachment  of  birds  to  them,  238. 
New -year's  day,  5,  &c. 
River,  impuiity  of  water  of,  1203  ;  at 

Hornsey,  engraving  of,  1311 ;  New  River 

eclogue,  notice  of,  1551. 
Newark,  customs  at,  161,  367. 
Newbury,  Berkshire,  customs  at,  367,  1045. 
Newcastle,  extract  from  common  council 

book  of,  487 ;  house  of  God,  charity  at, 

785. 
Newscriers,   London,    1275;  a  remarkable 

one,  ib 

Newspapers,  an    old   one    for  1736,    de- 
scribed, 1301  ;  an  apology  for  not  giving 

the  news  in  one,  1 362. 


Niblet,  Mr.,  died  1095. 

Nichols,  Mr.,  John,  Dr.  S.  Parr's  letter 
to,  on  king  Richard's  well,  1 107  ;  respect- 
ful notice  of  him,  1641. 

Nicot,  Mr.,  said  to  have  first  brought  to- 
bacco to  Europe,  398. 

Niae  men's  morris,  game  called,  983,  1661. 

Noah,  S.,  lottery  fraud  of,  1466. 

Nonsuch  lottery,  1446. 

Norfolk,  customs  in,  1666. 

Northampton  May  garland,  engraving  of 
615. 

Northumberland,  death  tokens  in,  1019. 

Norwich,  hoax  at,  1139. 

Notes,  forged,  in  shop  windows,  notice  of, 
1335. 

"Nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life,"  illustrated, 
1335. 

Nottingham,  old  general  Ben  of,  1569. 

Nowell,  dean  of  St.  Paul's,  and  queen  Eli- 
zabeth, colloquy  between,  1367. 

Numbers,  lucky,  in  lotteries,  notices  of, 
1437. 

O'  Mara  family,  the,  a  tale  of,  1 0 1 3. 

Oaks,  the  haunted  oak  of  Nanneu,  1022  ; 
sir  Philip  Sidney's  oak,  1032,-  Abra- 
ham's oak  at  Mamre,  1033;  name  of 
Berkshire  derived  from  one,  1033;  lot- 
tery called  the  Royal  Oak,  1423,  &c. 

Oaths,  form  of  the  Dunmow  oath,  803,  807  , 
at  election  of  mayor  of  Garrett,  843. 

Oddities,  Whims  and,  Mr.  Hood's  book 
called,  notice  of,  and  cuts  from,  1537,  &c. 

Ody,  Joe,  1371,  1584. 

Oil  used  for  stilling  waves,  191,  254. 

Old  English  squires  or  gentlemen,  then 
houses  and  mode  of  living,  1620, 1621,&c. 

—  general  Ben,  of  Nottingham,  1569. 

—  Lady,  the,  picture  of,  189. 

Whig,    the,     newspaper    described, 

1301. 
Oldham,  Lancashire, hedgehogs  abounding 

in  1826,939. 
Opera  arm-chairs,  630. 
Optical  illusions,  1559. 
Orders,    female  order  of   merit    at   Paris, 

696 ;  order  of  fools,  1 287,  &c. 
Orford,  lord,  his    account  of  archbishop 

Chicheley,  1141;  and  of  a  curious  or- 
gan, 1451. 
Organ,  disposal  of  a  very  curious  one  by 

lottery,  1451. 

Orsedew,  explanation  of,  1263. 
Osnaburg,  lottery  in,  1 53 1 . 
Oven,  heat  of,  resisted  by  Monsieur  Cha- 

bert,  772,  &c. 
Owen,  Glendower,  1026. 
Owl  and  duck,  cruel  amusement  with,  1403 
Ox,  Durham,  complaint  of,  1547. 
Oxford,  gazette  first  published  at,  1384. 

Paddinglon,  customs  at,  449,  577;  notice  of 
the  old  church  at,  1369 


691 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


Paisley,  Hallow-eve  fires,  1259. 

Palamede,  a  fish  highly  valued,  648 

PALM  SUNDAY,  pageants  on,  390,392. 

Palmer  worm,  notice  of,  1 128. 

Pancakes,  1561. 

Pancras,  Roman   station  at,  1345,  1566. 

Pandolfo  Attonito,  or  lord  Galloway's  la- 
mentation, 632. 

Pantomimes,  500. 

Panyer  Alley,  engraving  of  an  effigy  on  a 
stone  in,  M85. 

Papegua^  French  amusement  of  shooting 
at,  239,  375. 

Paris,  festival  of  cobblers  at,  1054. 

Parish  beadle,  1553. 

Parker,  John,  curious  caligra-phy  by,  1215. 

Parkinson,  Mr.,  obtains  the  Leverian  mu- 
seum by  lottery,  997,  &c. 

Parkyns,  sir  T.,  notice  of,  874. 

Parliaments,  the  only  one  within  memory, 
expiring  by  efflux  of  time,  249. 

Parr,  Dr.  S-,  letter  from,  on  king  Rich- 
ard's well,  1 107. 

Parrots,  engraving  of  a  street  image  of 
one,  811  ;  amusement  of  shooting  at  a 
stuffed  one,  called  papeguay,  289,  875. 

Passing  Bell,  origin  of,  185. 

PASSION  WEDNESDAY,  celebration  of,  at 
Seville,  401. 

Patch,  alias  Price,  Charles,  lottery  office- 
keeper,  curious  memoirs  of,  1470. 

Paths,  field,  903. 

Paul  Pry,  letter  from,  49. 

Paul's  Cathedral,notice  of  ball  and  cross  on, 
1096;  dialogue  between  queen  Elizabeth 
and  the  dean,  1367  ;  lottery  drawn  in  the 
church-yard,  1410. 

Cross,  history  of,  414. 

Pauntley,  agricultural  custom  in,  28- 

Peak  of  Derbyshire,  custom  of,  451 ;  pecu- 
liar rights  of  marriage  claimed  in,  637. 

Peerages,  now  existing,  prior  to  Henry 
VII.,  J109. 

Peers,  king  William's,  notices  of,  1374. 

Penderill  family,  anecdote  of,  257. 

Penny  lottery,  1421. 

Pentonville,  Roman  remains  at,  1 197, 1566. 

Peppard  revel,  advertisement  of,  678. 

Pepys',  Mr.,  notice  of  gathering  May-dew, 
611. 

Peru,  harvest  customs  in,  1162. 

Peter,  the  Lombard,  immaculate  conception 
suggested  by,  1609 

penny,  1819. 

Peter's,  St.,  at  Rome,  ceienration  of  Easter 
in,  451. 

Petrarch,  his  notice  of  the  cavern  of  Sainte 
Beaume,  1006. 

Phillips,  sir  R.,  his  description  of  Garrett, 
822. 

Phrenological  illustrations  by  Cruikshank, 
notice  of,  1121,&c. 

Physicians,  the  wonderful  one,  477. 

Piccadilly,  origin  of,  381 . 


Pictures  in  churches,  curious  colloquy  on 

1367. 
Pigs,  the  first  in  Scotland,  humorous  no 

tice  of,  111  3. 

Pilate,  tradition  concerning,  431. 
Piper,  John,  notice  of,  925. 
Plants,  machine  for  determining  their  daily 

increase,  185. 

Plate,  lotteries  for,  I409,&c. 
Play-bills,  one  announcing  Garrick's  first 

appearance  in  London,  1336  ;  apparatus 

for  printing,  72. 
Plays,    first   attendance  at   one  described, 

1252. 

Ploughing,  a  miser's  plan  for,  1194. 
Plumtree,  Miss,  her  account  of  supersti- 
tions of  Brittany,  972,  &c. 
Poetry,  establishment  at  Toulouse  for  en- 
couraging, 602. 
Poisons,  singular  case  of  experimenting  on, 

635  ;    taken,  or  pretended  to  be  so,  in 

large  quantities,  with  impunity,  771 . 
Pol  de  Leon,  St.,  account  of,  974. 
Polkinhorne,   the    Cornish    champion    in 

wrestling,  109. 

Pollard's  land,  in  Durham,  tenure  of,  1044 
Pomfret,earl  of,  1376. 
Pony,  remarkable  feat  of  one,  682. 
Poor  man's  home,  563,  564- 
Porters, fellowship, notice  of,  876. 
Portland,  duke  .of,  1374. 
Porto  Bello,  capture  of,  1392. 
Ports  and  Havens,  first  lottery  for  repairing, 

1410. 
Pope,  Morris,  a  champion  at  single-stick 

1400. 

Posset  at  bed-time,  notice  of,  1 623. 
Post,  the  walking,  1593. 
Pottage,  Christmas,  1643. 
Potteries,  the,  a  summer  scene  in,  994. 
Pounteney,  Mrs.,  accomplice  of  Price,  the 

forger,  1478,  &c. 
Poverty,  reflections  on,  563,  564. 
POWDER  PLOT,  November  5,  celebrations 

of,  1 378,  &c. 
Prayers  desired    in   a  church  for  luck    in 

a  lottery,  1461. 
Presents,  hiding  of,  in  shoes  and  slippers, 

1598. 
Pressing  for  the  navy  in  church,  in  reign  of 

queen  Elizabeth,  449 
Preston,  Lancashire,  singular  collision    of 

flocks  of  birds  near,  1 1 39. 
Pretorium,  supposed,  of  Suetonius,  at  Pen- 

tonville,  1198,  1566. 
Price  alias  Patch,  lottery-office  keeper,  no 

tice  and  engravings  of,  1470. 
Prince  of  Thieves,  Robin  Hood  the,  1637. 
Printers,  their  May  festival,  627 j  printers 

devils,  1239. 
Printing,   mystery    of,    picture   of,    1240 

calicoes,  a  chemical  black  for,  269. 
press  at  St.  James's,  notices  con 

cerning,  231, 


lf.93 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


IPO  4 


Prisoners  under  sentence  of  death,  prayers 
for,  1378. 

Prize-fighting,  a  challenge  given  and  ac- 
cepted in  1726,  780. 

Prizes  in  the  lottery,  1410,  &c. 

Processions,  a  burlesque  one  of  freema- 
sons, 523;  of  the  chimney-sweepers,  in 
lieu  of  their  old  May  dances,  619,  of 
the  camel  at  Beziers,  in  France,  641 . 

Prophecies,  some  relating  to  Easter,  &c., 
455  ;  lord  Bacon's  remarks  on,  457. 

Protestants  and  Catholics,  mutual  interest 
of,  1370. 

Provencal  poetry,  pubHc  encouragement 
of,  at  Toulouse,  602. 

Puffs,  lottery,  engravings  and  n otices  touch- 
ing, 150S..&C. 

Pulpits,  1544. 

Pump  with  two  spouts,  49?. 

Punch  in  the  puppet-show,  500. 

Puppet-shows,  fatal  fire  at  one,  1225 

Purton,  Wiltshire,  customs  at,  1207,  1379. 

Quainton,  Buckinghamshire,  1641. 
Quakers,  their  address  at  birth  of  George 

IV.,   1087. 

Queen,  (harvest,)  1155,  1161. 
Quirinalia,  the  Roman,  487. 

Racing,  early  date  of  horse-racing,  539  ; 

women  riders  at  Ripon,  1060;  a  sudden 

and  lively  foot-race  at  Brighton,  1257. 
Raffling  lottery,  notice  of,  1444. 
Rain,    Peiresc's    explanation     of    bloody 

rain,  1128;  astonishing  fall  of,  at  Inve- 

rary,  1215;  most  fertilizing  in   thunder 

storms,  1131. 

Rainbow  lunar,  accounts  of,  1229,  1230. 
Raleigh,  Nottinghamshire,  custom  at,  1649. 
Ramsgate,  custom  of,  1642 
Ratzburg,  Christmas  out  of  doors  at,  114. 
Ravens,  attachment  of,  to  their  nests,  238. 
Reading,  a  lottery  at,  1411. 
Recorders  of  London,  a  spring  diversion  of 

one,  532. 

Refreshment,  (seasonable)  engraving  of,  59. 
Relics,  of  the  crucifixion,  account  of,  426  ; 

in  churches,  curious  colloquy  on,  1367. 
Revolution,  curious  one  in  fishes,  769. 
Rhinoceros,  a  remarkable  female  one,  1605. 
Riddles,  one  by  Cleobulus,  26. 
Riding,  extraordinary,   1293;    riding    the 

fair,  a  local  custom,  1664,  1665. 
Ringing  of  bells.     See  Bells. 
Ripon,  Yorkshire,  customs  at,  866, 1059. 
Rivers,  Brindley's  answer  about  the  use  of, 

1268. 

Robin  Hood,  memoir  of,  1635. 
Robinson,  G.,  fraud  of,  1450. 
Rochford,  Essex,  Lawless  court  at,  1286. 
Rochfort,  first  earl  of,  1375. 
Rodd,  Mr.  T.,  bookseller,    integrity   and 

judgment  of,  1126. 
Kogue  in  grain,  acknowledgment  of  one, 

729 


Roman   remains,  at    PentonvJUe  and   Pan- 
eras,  1197.  1199,  1345,  1566. 

Romans,  lotteries  among,  1529,  15SO. 

Rook,  supposed  poem  on  "  The  Rook1'  by 
lord  Erskine,  1139. 

Roses  for  shoes,  1354. 

Ross,   Mr.,  actor,    curious    anecdote    of 
1651. 

Rotherham,  Yorkshire,  account  of    swal 
lows  at,  1295. 

Rouen,  in  France,  pageant  of  the  assump- 
tion in,  1092. 

Rousey,  John,  aged  138,  died,  731. 

Rowing   for    Dogget's    coat    and    badge 
1062. 

Royal  debts,  notice  of,  1355. 

Royal  Oak  lottery,the,  notice  of,  1423,  £c 

Rudkins, a  remarkable  thief,  1242. 

Rules,  for  servants.  226;    for    preserving 
health,  1615. 

Rupert,    prince,    lottery    for    his    jewels 
1445. 

Russell,  house  of,  1376. 

Russia,  St.  George  much  revered  in,  546 

Rutland,  earl  of,  two  of  his  children  sup- 
posed bewitched,  370. 

Sadler's  Wells,  curious  invitation  to,  41 , 

horse-racing  at,  1561. 
Sagittarius,  charm  against  the  influence  of 

1569. 

Sailors,  on  shore,  65  j  custom  of,  on  cross- 
ing  the   Line,  1394;   anecdote  of  one, 
1470. 
Saint  Ives,  Corn  wall,  celebration  of  athletic 

games  near,  1010. 
Sainte*  Beaume,  near  Marseilles,  notices  of, 

1002,  &c. 

Salamander,  the  human,  M.  Chabert.  771 . 
Salisbury   Plain,   indolence   of  shepherds 

there,  984. 
Salle,  Mademoiselle,  Order  of  Merit  insti 

tuted  by,  at  Paris,  696. 
"  Sally  Brown,"  &c.   a    popular    ballad, 

1549. 
Salt,  great  age  of  a  man  who  never  used 

any,  1214. 
cellar,  its  importance    in  arrangjivj 

guests,  1622. 
Sannazaro,  580. 

Scandiscope,  (machine  for  cleaning  chim- 
neys,) engraving  of,  617. 
Scarborough,  earl  of,  1 376. 
Schism,  intended    bill  against,  notice  of, 

1061. 

Schomberg,  Marshal,  1375. 
Schoolmasters,  tradition  of  a  boy  murdered 

by  one,  1371. 
Science,   poetry   called   the  Gay  Science, 

and  a  college  for  encouraging  it  at  Tou 

louse,   602,    science   outdoes  juggling, 

780. 
Scorpions,  continued  and  appalling  visions 

about,  1578. 


1695 


TflE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1C96 


Scotland,  curious  political  drama  acted  be- 
fore the  court  of,  15;  superstitions  in, 
681 ;  humorous  account  of  the  first  pigs 
in,  1113. 

Scottish  songs,  essay  on,  713  ;  list  of,  717. 
Scripture,  application  of,  1 320  ,•  curious  no- 
tice about  inscriptions  in  churches,!  3  67>. 

Sea,  stilling  its  waves  by  oil,  192, 254  ; 
reflections  on  the  sea,  1258. 

Sealing-wax,  account  of,  263. 

Seals,  engravings  of  seals  of  London,  258, 
881. 

Sebastian,  Don,  belief  of  the  Portuguese  in 
his  coming,  87. 

Sedan-chairs,  notice  of,  901. 

Sedgemoor,  battle  of,  910. 

Sele,  Howel,  notice  of,  1027,  1028. 

Sermons,  a  singular  one  on  30th  January, 
149;  preaching  of  at  Paul's  Cross,  414, 
415  ;  singular  title-page  of  one,  478. 

Serpentine  river,  skating  on,  17. 

Servants,  a  letter  written  to  one  on  parting, 
187;  rules  for  them,  226;  periodical 
hirings  of  them  described,  669;  treat- 
ment of  them  in  harvest,  1 158,  1 160. 

Severndroog  castle  and  tower,  488. 

Seville,  celebration  of  certain  religious  ce- 
remonies in,  392,  405,  421,  436. 

Sewers,  common,  notice  of  a  boar  lost  in 
one,  1113. 

Seymour,  Arabella,  (Arabella  Stuart,)  no- 
tice and  autograph  of,  730. 

Shaftesbury,  custom  at,  641. 

Shakerley,  aunt,  ludicrous  picture  of,  1545. 

Shakspeare,  anecdote  concerning,  522. 

Shaving,  on  passing  the  Line,  sailors'  cus- 
tom of,  1394. 

Shaw,  Hugh,  aged  113,  notice  of,  1007. 

Sheep-shearing,  notice  and  engraving  of, 
721,787. 

Sheffield,  custom  at,  1259. 

Shelley,  sir  J.,  laudable  practice  of,  23. 

Shenstone,  William,  poet,  died,  222. 

Shepherds  on  Salisbury  Plain,  indolence  of, 
984. 

Sherborne,  bells  in,  notice  of,  745,  1255; 
Pack-Monday  fair  in,  1307. 

Shergold,  lottery  office-keepers,  notices  of, 
1454,  1496. 

Sheridan,  R.  B.,  125L 

Sherwood  Forest,  scene  of  Robin  Hood's 
adventures,  1637. 

Shirts,  specimen  of  pride  about,  859. 

Shoemakers,  customs  among,  471,  901, 
1054,  1055. 

Shoes,  notice  of  shoes  and  buckles,  1354; 
hiding  presents  in  shoes  and  slippers, 
1 598 ;  engraving  of  a  lady's  old  shoe  and 
clog,  1685. 

Shore,  Jane,  notice  of,  417. 

Showers,  supposed  of  blood,  explanation 
of,  1127. 

Showman,  engraving  of  the  German  show- 
man, 1329. 


Shropshire,  crying  the  mare  in,  1163. 
Shrove  Monday,  and  peas  and  pork,  282. 

Tuesday,  notice   and   custoiwa  of, 

196,  256. 

Sidney,  sir  Philip,  notice  of  his  oak,  1033. 
Signs  on  alehouses,  789. 
Singlestick  or  backsword,  1341,  1399. 
Sisters,  the  Biddenden,  engraving  and  ac- 
count of,  442,  &c. 
Sistine  Chapel   at   Rome,  grand  religious 

pageants  in,  396,  435. 
Sixpence,  anecdote  of  a  lost  one,  1575. 
Skaith   Saw,   or  gruel   against  witchcraft 

still  made  and  sold  at  Falkirk,  688. 
Skating,  earliest  notice  of  in  England,  116; 

people  of  Edinburgh  skilled  in,  117. 
Skeleton,  a  curious  present  of  one,  1560. 
Sky  island,  custom  of,  866. 
Slaves  in  West  Indies  in  1736,  1304. 
Sleep,  how  to  obtain  in  cold  weather,  95  ; 

walking  in,  cases  of,  1296. 
Sleeper,  an  extraordinary  one,  96. 
Slippers    and   shoes,  hiding   presents    in, 

1598. 

Smart,  Mr.  G.,  receives  two  gold  medals 
for  machines  for  cleaning  chimneys, 
623. 

Smith,  Mr.  J.,  a  date  in  Panyer  Alley  en- 
graved in  wood  by,  1134,  1135. 
Snails,  predicting  fortunes  by,  in  Scotland 

385. 

Snow,  great  fall  of  in  1814,  101  ;  blue  and 
pink  shades  of,  72 ;  accounts  of  women 
lost  in,  177,395. 

Societies,  united  one  of  Master  Chimney- 
sweepers established  in  London,  619; 
also  a  Gymnastic  Society,  1568  ;  Cecilian 
Society,*  ib. 

Somersetshire,  receipt  for  making  Somer- 
setshire bacon,  813;  custom  about  lay- 
ing out  lands  in,  917. 
Somnambulism,  cases  of,  1297. 
Songs,  Scottish,  essay  on,  713. 
Sops  and  ale,  local  custom  of,  693. 
Sotheby  and  Leigh,  booksellers,  notice  of, 

696. 

South  Downs,  custom  in,  1 562. 
Spectator,  (The,)  ridicule  of  lotteries   in 

1437. 

Spectres.     See  Apparitions. 
Spider  (field)  notice  and  calcu  radon  about 

its  gossamer,  1188,  1332. 
Spilsbury,  Mr.,  notice  of,  1486. 
"  Spirit's  blasted  tree,  The,"    in  Wales 

notice  and  engraving  of,  1023. 
Spurzheim  and  Gall,  Drs.,  notice  of,  1 122. 
Squires,  old    English,    their    houses    ana 

mode  of  living,  1620—1624. 
Staines  (Middlesex)  church,  singular  spec* 

tacle  at,  1225. 

Stationers'  Hall,  St.  Cecilia's  feast  at,  1567. 
Steevens,  G.  A.,  anecdote  of,  224. 
Stiles,  (field)  inconveniences  and  pleasure* 
of,  903. 


.697 


TflE  GENERAL  INDEX 


1693 


Stockings,  finding  presents  in,  1598. 

Stone,  (The  Martyr's)  at  Hadleigh,  212. 

Stools,  shoemakers'  amusement  with,  901. 

Storms,  in  1826,  1130;  at  Enghien,  1235; 
at  Wigton,  1299. 

Story-telling,  custom  of,  599 ;  its  value  in 
winter,  1617 

Strand  May-pole,  660. 

Street  entertainments,  1319,  &c 

Stroud,  abundance  of  earwigs  at,  in  1755, 
1099. 

— ,  sir  William,  convicted  of  swindling, 

45. 

Stuart,  Arabella,  (Arabella  Seymour,)  no- 
tice and  autograph  of,  734. 

Stubbins,  Dr.,  anecdote  concerning,  1392. 

Students,  curious  instance  of  one,  1068. 

Studley,  Royal,  Yorkshire,  description  of, 
1061. 

Study,  peculiar  mode  of  pursuing,  1267. 

Subscription  for  relief  of  distress,  notice  of. 

mi. 

Suffolk,  customs  in,  1 165. 

Sugar-cuppers,  in  Derbyshire,  notice  of, 
451. 

hogshead  with  boys,  description  and 

engraving  of,  1542, 1 543. 

Suicide,  through  lotteries,  1447, 1466,1494; 
reasons  against,  1591. 

Sun,  kindling  fires  in  honour  of.     See  Fires. 

Sunday,  harvesting  on,  in  Scotland,  1156. 

Sunsets  in  England,  1185. 

Surgeon-barbers,  curious  notice  concern- 
ing, 758. 

Surrey  hills,  spring  walk  on,  557. 

Sussex,  new  year's  day  in,  23. 

Sutton,  sir  R.,  expelled  the  Commons, 
1451. 

T.,  founder  of  the  White  Conduit, 


1201. 


the  prize-fighter,  notice  of,  780. 


Sydenham,  Mr.,  land-lottery  of,  1446. 

Swaffham,  in  Norfolk,  custom  of,  222. 

Swallows  in  1826,  492;  notice  of  swallow- 
singing  or  cheldonizing,  1 1 1 1  j  swallows 
at  Rotherham,  1295. 

Swan  with  two  necks,  explanation  of,  958. 

Swans,  accounts  of  swanhopping,  and  order 
for  the  same  by  the  statutes  and  customs, 
914,  958;  a  vicious  swan,  955;  their 
power  to  contend  with  frost,  965;  notice 
of  their  supposed  death-song,  964. 

Swearing  at  Highgate.     See  Highgate. 

Table  Book,  The,  a  work  to  succeed  the 

E very-Day  Book,  1664. 
Tale-bearing,  how  punished,  1562. 
Tangiers,  in  Africa,  celebration  of  Easter 

at,  455. 

Tanner,  Dr.,  manuscripts  lost  by,  1617. 
Tasker,  William,  died,  2 1 2. 
Taylor,  Dr.  Rowland,  martyred,  212. 

the  Whitworth  doctor,  477. 

Tea-kettle,  trick  with,  774. 

Vol.  II.— 106. 


Temple    Sowerby,  Westmoreland,  custom 

in,  599. 

Tenants,  a  remarkable  one,  1256. 
Tenures,  an  annual  jocular  one,  21. 
Tetbury,  1561. 

Texts  inscribed  in  churches,  1367. 
Thames,  river,  frozen  over  in  1814,  109. 
Thanet,  isle  of,  custom  of,  1643. 
Thieves,  application   for  licence   to   kill 

them,    1 1 83  ;    a  remarkable  one,  1 242  ; 

Robin   Hood,   the   Prince    of  Thieves, 

1637. 

Thompson,  J.,  fraud  of,  1450. 
Thorn,  the  Glastonbury,  1641. 
Threekingham,  or  Laundon,  Lincolnshire, 

notice  of,  1246. 
Thunder    clouds,    dreadful    one  at  Java, 

1082. 

Thunny  fishing,  647. 
Thurlow,  lord,  letter  of,  498. 
Tickets,  lottery,  same  number  twice  sold, 

1460  ;  divided  with  great  minuteness,  ib, 

See  Lottery. 

Times,  old,  notice  of,  1801. 
Tissington,  Derbyshire,  custom  of  dressing 

wells  in,  636. 

Toad-stools,  singular  connection  of  sub- 
jects with,  518. 

Toast,  sugared,  at  lyings- in,  1333. 
Tobacco,  article  on.  397. 
Todd,  James,  death  of, by  a  flying  machine, 

1291. 
Toddingham,  sir  T.,  singular  letter  of  the 

famous  earl  of  Warwick  to,  1403. 
Toulouse,  establishments  or   customs  at 

600,  602. 
Tourant,    Michael,    aged    98,    notice   of, 

1211. 
Towers,  notice  of  old  London  watch  tower, 

and  an  engraving,  619  ;  notice  of  Lam- 
mas towers  made  of  sods,  1051. 
Tracy,  sir  W.,  932,  &c. 
Tradesmen,  emblem  for,  1327 
Trafalgar,  battle  of,  1343,  1356. 
Travelling,  in  Ireland,    239,  &c. ;  cheap, 

curious  plan  for,  791. 
Trees,  engraving  of  "   the  Spirit's  blasted 

tree"  in  Wales,  1023  ;  revivification  of 

trees,  233.     See  Oaks. 
Trial  of  weights  and  measures,  127. 
Trials,  ludicrous  one   of    farmer   Carter's 

dog,   1 88 ;  burlesque  ones,  233  ;  trial  of 

the   dog  of   Heriot's   hospital,  758;  an 

aged    witness  at,   1602;   "Trial   of  the 

Royal   Oak    Lottery,"    a  satire  called, 

1423. 

Trigg,  Henry,  curious  will  of,  1325. 
Turkey-cock,  Garrick  earnestly  imitating 

one,  61. 
Turner,  Dr.   Dawson,  his  account  of  the 

pageant  of    the  assumption  at   Rouen 

1092. 

Turnstiles,  notice  of,  905. 
Turpentine  tree,  the,  notice  of,  1034 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1700 


TUSKS,  elephants',  matters  found  imbedded 

in, 837. 

Tufcbury  honour  of,  custom  of,  807. 
Tweed,  river  of,  peculiarity  of,  270. 
Twelfth  day,  &c.  <28,  &c. 
Twelvepenny  lottery,  1446. 
Twickenham,  custom  at,  449. 

Upstarts,  description  of  one,  1623. 

Vacina,  or  Vacuna, goddess  of  rest,  1 160. 
Valentine'sdayandeve,customson,222,&c. 
Vane,  sir  H .,  representatives  of,  1378. 
Vaughan,  sir  R.,  notice   of  his  park  and 

manor,  1024,  &c. 
Vauxhall  gardens,  61 1,  783  ,•  minor  Vaux- 

hall,  (White  Conduit-house,)  1204. 
Vega,  Lopez  de,  died,  notice  of,  1132 
Vernon,  admiral,  notice  of,  1392. 
Vice,  a  personage  in  the  old  mysteries,  501 . 
Victor's,  St.,  abbey,  998. 
Village  May  pole,  engraving  of,  593. 
Villeloin,  abbe,  curious  remark  of,  1141 
Villiers,  sir  Edward,  1376. 
Vincent,  Mr.,  musician,  notice  of,  1568. 
Virginia,  in  America,  lottery  for,  1612. 
Visions  in  dreams,  remarks  on  relative  to 

the  blind,  1540. 

Wadeley,  lady,  aged  105,  notice  of,  880. 

Wafers,  account  of,  265. 

Waites,  Christmas,  1 645 . 

Wakes,  singular  directions  about  one,  165. 

Wales,  superstitious  intimations  of  death 
in,  1019;  description  of  a  Welch  bap- 
tism, 1613. 

Walking,  extraordinary,  1293. 

Wallace,sir  William,  executed,  1 1 10. 

Walton,  Isaac,  motto  to  his  book  on  an- 
gling, and  advertisement  of  the  first  edi- 
tion, 1313. 

Wandsworth,  Garrett  near,  election  of  a 
mayor  for,  819,824. 

Warkworth,  ash  meadow  in,  custom  at, 
1179. 

Warren  and  Cann,  wrestling  match  of, 
1338. 

Warwick,  custom  at,  869. 

,  earl  of,  Lawless  court  belonging 

to,  12  ,•  curious  letter  from  Guy  the  king- 
maker, 1403. 

Washerwomen,  nocturnal,  apparitions  of, 
978. 

Wassail,  7. 

Watch-tower  (old)  of  London-wall,  engra- 
vings relative  to,  629. 

Watson,  rev.  J.,  remarkable  sermon  of,  1 49. 

Wax  (sealing)  account  of,  263. 

Weald  of  Kent,  origin  of  the  term,  450. 

Weather-guide,  cheap,  491. 

Weavers  of  Blackburn,  memorial  of  their 
wretched  state,  562. 

Weber,  Carl  Maria  Von,  died,  and  notice 
of,  766. 


Wedding,  dress  for  one  in  1550,  797. 

Welch  baptism, description  of,  1618 

Wellington  under  the  Wrekin,  custom  of, 
599. 

Wells,  the  freeman's  well  at  Alnwick,  249  j 
custom  of  dressing  wells,  636  j  rebuke* 
and  sentences  in  Scotland  for  going  to 
them  for  cures,  686 ,  an  old  one  at  Pei>- 
tonville,  1199. 

Welner,  J.,  a  German  chemist,  anecdote  of, 
635. 

Wesley,  J.,  his  first  pulpit,  1564. 

West,  the,  wonder  of,  notice  and  engraving 
of,  1631. 

Indies,  state  of   slaves  in,   in   1786, 

1304. 

,  Benj.,  painter,  engraving  and  auto- 
graph of,  366. 

Westbury,  custom  at,  1333. 

Westminster,  notice  of  an  election  for,  854. 

bridge,  lottery  for,  1451. 

Westmoreland,  custom  in,  450. 

Wetting  the  block,  custom  of,  471. 

Wheel,  lottery,  engraving  of,  1439;  case  of 
a  ticket  sticking  in  the  wheel,  1454. 

Whichmore,  Staffordshire,  custom  at,  807. 

Whig,  old,  description  a  newspaper  so 
called,  1301. 

"  Whims  and  Oddities,"  notice  of,  and  cuts 
from,  15 37,  &c. 

Whipping,  curious  action  at  law  for  not 
being  whipped,  1389. 

White  Conduit,  the,  at  Pentonville,  engra- 
ving and  notice  of,  1 197,  1202. 

White, — ,  his  curious  address  to  the  devil, 
1239. 

,  rev.  B.,  his  account  of  various  cere- 


monies at  Seville,  405,  421,  486 
Whitefield,  G.,  his  first  pulpit,  1564. 
Whitehaven,  customs  at,  1645. 
Whitsuntide,  663. 
Whittaker,  C.,  his  charity  at  Birmingham, 

1627. 

Whittle,  Jemmy,  542. 
Whitworth,  doctor,  the,  notice  of,  477. 
Wigan,  Lancashire,  abundance  of  gossamer 

at,    331. 

Wigs,  a  glass  one,  1 196. 
William  III.,    centenary    of    his  landing, 

1374  ;  notices  of  some  of  the  king's  fol- 
lowers, 1371,&c. 
Willis,  Dr.  Browne,   his  autograph,  and 

anecdotes  of  him,  292,  295,  296. 
Wills, duchess  of  Exeter's,  531  ;  a  curious 

one  of  H.  Trigg,  1325. 
Wiltshire,  customs  in,  1207,  139y. 
Wimble,  Will,  of  the  Spectator,   (Mr.  T 

Morecroft,)  notice  of,  897. 
Winchester  college,  anecdote,  710. 
Windsor,  St.  George's  chapel  at,  completed 

by  sir  R.  Bray,  1072. 
Winnold  fair,  Norfolk,  283. 
Winter  in  town,  48. 
Wisbech,  St.  Mary,  fSte  at,  882. 


1701 


THE  GENERAL  INDEX. 


1703 


Witchcraft,  notices  of,  181,  1328;  Marga- 
let  and  Phillis  Flower  executed  for,  371  ; 
still  much  credited  in  Scotland,  685,  688. 

Witheridge,  the  pretended  Caraboo  born 
at,  1638. 

Withrington,  earl,  Camberwell  beadle  a 
descendant  from,  1564. 

"Wives,  mortality  of,  in  Essex  and  Kent, 
923 ;  sale  of  her  dead  husband  by  one, 
1301. 

Women,  riders  at  horse-racing,  1061 ;  cus- 
tom at  their  lyings-in,  1833;  lottery  for, 
in  India,  1518 ;  Ledyard's  interesting  cha- 
racter of,  1614. 

Wonder  of  the  west, engraving  and  notice  of, 
1631. 

Wood,  Mr.  alderman,  1389. 

Mr.,  his  speculation  about  iron, 

520. 

Woodcock,  Elizabeth,  buried  in  a  snow 
storm,  175. 

Woodstock,  notice  of  the  novel  called,  and 
history  of  the  good  devil  of,  582. 

Wolverhamptou  fair,  939. 

Woolcombers,  deserted  by  St.  Blase,  1560. 


Woolley,  James,  the  miser  of  Loscoe,  no- 
tice of,  1192. 

Worms,  Palmer,  notice  of,  1 1 28. 

Worcestershire,  custom  in,  1576. 

Wraiths  and  fetches,  notice  of,  1 1 1 1,  &c. 

Wrestling,  sirT.  Parkyns,  author  of  a  book 
on,  sculptured  on  his  monument  as 
wrestling  with  death,  874 ;  different 
modes  of  wrestling,  1009  ;  wrestling  at 
the  Eagle  tavern,  1333;  for  a  boar's 
head  at  Christmas,  1649. 

Wright,  rev.  — ,  in  Scotland,  and  presbytery 
of  Ayr,  notice  of,  1157. 

Writing,  hand,  curious  instances  of,  1215 

Writing  ink,  receipts  for,  265,  266; 

Yardley,  Mr.,  a  fraudulent  debtor,  1241. 

Yarmouth  dinners,  custom  at,  636. 

Year,  the,  riddle  on,  26. 

Yenlet  creek,  notice  of,  924. 

Yeomen  of  the  guard,  instituted  in   1485 

1351. 
York,  duke  of,  anecdote  about  his  celebrated 

speech,  1575. 
Yorkshire,  customs  in,  21, 549 


1703 


POETICAL  INDEX 


,704 


II.  INDEX  TO  ROMISH  SAINTS. 


Afra,  August  7. 
Apollonia,  February  9. 
Botolph,  June  17. 
Cecilia,  November  22. 
Concord,  January  2. 
David,  March  1. 
Declan,  July  28. 
Denys,  October  9. 
Edward,  March  18. 


George,  April  23, 

Hugh,  November  17. 

James,  July  25. 

John  Baptist,  July  24,  and 

August  29. 

Leonard,  November  6. 
Magdalen,  July  22. 
Margaret,  July  20. 
Mark,  April  25. 


Martha,  July  29. 
Matthias,  February  24. 
Maurice,  September  22. 
Michael,  September  29. 
Patrick,  March  17. 
Surin,or  Severin,  October  23 
Veronica,  January  13. 
Victor,  July  21. 
Winwaloe,  March  3. 


III.  INDEX  TO  THE  POETRY. 


ORIGINAL, 
By 

Anonymous,  900. 

A  small  Bookseller,  186. 

B.  S.  G.  S.,  615. 

B.  W.R.,1244. 

C.  T.,916,  1212. 

A  Correspondent,  900. 

A  Gentleman  of  Cambridge, 

1367 
A    Gentleman    of    Literary 

Habits,  2  4. 
H.,942. 

Jackson,  S.  R.,  119. 
J.  J.,  1150. 
J.  O.  W.,  41. 
J.  P.,  884. 
J.  R.  P.,  1041. 
J.W.,  784. 
Jennings,  J.,  1 1 88. 
Lander,  H.  M.,  709,  1100. 
May,  Cornelius,  898. 
Prior,  J.R.,709,  1141,1218. 
Pulci,  494. 
S.    R.   J.,    646,   818,    1100, 

1310,  1342. 

*  *  P.,  988,  1071,  16SO. 
A  small  Bookseller,  187. 
Tomlinson,  ۥ,  1211. 
W.  T.  M.,   1227,  ib.   1580, 

1.590,  1596. 
X.,  434. 

ORIGINAL, 

%* 

The  Editor. 
The  Christmas  Days,  30 


"The  king  drinks,"  81. 
Dr.  Busby's  chair,  34. 
Paul  Pry's  Song,  51. 
Seasonable  refreshment,  59. 
Swearing  on    the    horns   at 

Highgate,  79. 

Lark-shooting  in  France,  91 . 
Skating   on  the   Serpentine, 

98. 

February,  170. 
Elizabeth  Woodcock,  175. 
Dr.  Browne  Willis,  193. 
Travelling  in  Ireland,  289. 
March,  273. 

Merriment  in  March,  290. 
Affectionate  brothers,  314. 
The  «  Common  People, " 

314. 
Disdain    of    Unfeelingness, 

318. 
Elephant    killed   at  Exeter 

Change,  821. 
April,  479. 
May,  567. 

Country  May-pole,  575. 
Milkmaids'  dance,  591. 
Duke  of  Baubleshire,  679. 
June,  722. 
Mock   election   for  Garrett, 

840. 

July,  890. 

Summer  scene  in  the  Potte- 
ries, 994. 
August,  1047. 
Harvest  home,  1 158. 
September,  1183. 
Baron  Brown,  1217 


Hammersmith  pump,  1231 
October,  1281. 
German  showman,  1330. 
November,  1362. 
The  last  Lottery,  1406. 
The  "Old  General,"  1570 
December,  1586. 
The  Table  Book,  1664. 

AUTHORS  CITED 

Bamfylde,  1644. 

Beattie,662. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher,!  272 

Bidlake,  490. 

Blake,  626. 

Bloomfield,  658. 

Bowles,  Rev.  W.    L.,    138 

1150. 

Bowring,  787,  880. 
Brown,  baron,  1223,  &c. 
Brown,  Hawkins,  399. 
Burns,  715. 

Byron,  lord,  400,  1078,1101. 
Chaucer,  578. 
Clare,  288,  318,  320,  ib. 
Corbet,  Bp.,  1390. 
Daniel,  1103. 
Darrell,  Dr.,  293. 
Darwin,  72. 
Dibdiu,  C.,   72,   504,    1062 

1364. 

Donne,  354. 

Drummond,  Dr.  H.,  212. 
Dyer,  276,  640. 
Dryden,  148,  150,  579 


1705 

Edwards,  J.,  638. 
Elton,  C.  A.,  1150. 
Ferguson,  17. 
Filicaia,  368. 
Garrick,  D.,  1352. 
Gay,  356,  594.  596,  607. 
Geweaux,  400. 
Glover,  1392,  1393. 
Goldsmith,  662,  905. 
Grahame,  5,  47,  164,  1178. 
Herrick,  1159,  1319. 
Hood,  T.,  1 548,  1552. 
Howitt,  484,  ib.,  528,  1277. 
Hunt,  L.,  580. 
Hurdis,  728. 
Jonson,  B.,   530,  608,   728, 

1033,  1630. 
Keats,  J.,  250. 
Kleist,  496. 

Landon,  Miss,  42,  614. 
Leslie,  614. 
L^eyden,  J.,  173. 
Love,  David,  229. 
Lovelace,  col.  R.,  561. 
Manners,  lady,  1104. 
Menecrates,  494. 
Moore,  T.,  143,767,  1146. 
Milton,  640. 

Montgomery,  528,  1396. 
Naogeorgus,  136,   197,  663, 

693,1080,1090,1370,1597. 
Nichols,  John,  1640. 
Ovid,  598,  ib.,  729. 
Philips,  1270. 
Phoenix  of  Colophon,  1111. 
Polwhele,  7. 
Prior,  606. 
Pughe,  Dr.  W.  O., 


POETICAL  INDEX. 

Radcliffe,  Mrs.,  1022. 
Reynolds,  J.  H.,  1234. 
Robinson,  Mrs.,  1 174. 
Ryan,  R.,  530. 
Sannazaro,  580. 
Scott,  1023,  1094 
Shakspeare,  1026. 
Smart,  1182. 
Somerville,  357. 
Southey,  1033,  1094. 
Southwell,  1157. 
Spenser,  2. 
Stevens,  J.  L.,  578. 
Swift,  1302. 
Theognis,  1111. 
Thomson,  362,490,888, 1 190. 
Tusser,  1158,  1173. 
Virgil,  147,  150. 
Vincent,  Rev.  J.,  1191. 
Warner,  136. 
White,  H.  K.,  666. 
Warrington,  Rev.  G.,  1028. 
Whistlecraft,  1650. 
Wilford,  B.,  574,  770,  868. 
Willis,  Browne,  297. 
Wordsworth,  1 15,  285, 286. 

WORKS  CITED. 

Alexander  and  the  King  of 

Egypt,  1646. 
Bellman's    Treasury,    1594, 

1626,1627,  1636,1644. 
Caps  well  fit,  439. 
Colonial  Advocate,  713,  714, 

&c. 

Evans's  old  Ballads,  741. 
Examiner,  368. 


1706 

Fables,  by  Thomas  Brown 
the  younger,  1042. 

Gentleman's  Magazine,  174. 
694,  982,  990. 

Grub-street  Journal,  158. 

Hoods,  T.,  Whims-and  Oddi- 
ties, 1548,  &c. 

Lady's  Scrap-book,  472. 

Leonidas  of  Tarentum,  510, 

Literary  Pocket-book,  720. 

Morning  Chronicle,  1204. 

Morning  Herald,  100,  630. 

New  Monthly  Magazine,  42, 
1556,  1663. 

Nichols's  Collections,  164. 

Perennial  Calendar,  119, 162, 
876. 

Poetical  Calendar,  1 166. 

Poor  Robin,  486,  678,  1883. 

Post  Boy,  1422. 

Times,  The,  1146. 

Widow's  Tale,  499. 

ANONYMOUS. 

8,  10,  14,  30,  111,  135> 
185,  186,  233,  239,  378,  387, 
399,429,556,557,  570,571, 
ib.,  572,  573,  590,  ib., 
594,  596,  608,  624,  711,  837, 
896,  939,  967,  990,  1011, 
1018,  1029,  1102,  1185,  *., 
1188,1190,1276,1285,1315, 
1328,1350,1377,1381,1386, 
1458, 1456,  1459, 1493, 1508, 
1504,1506,1507,1509,1510, 
1517, 1519,  1624,  1551,  1585, 
1594,  ib.,  1595,  1596,  1616, 
1626,  1627. 


1707 


CORRESPONDENTS'  INDEX. 


1708 


IV.  CORRESPONDENTS'  INDEX. 


A..,  5S9,  574,  783. 

A   O.  B.,  595. 

A  Reader,  1584. 

An  Admirer  of  theEvery-day 

Book,  1645. 
An  Essex  Man,  1172. 
Alpha,  457. 

B.  S.  G.  S.,  615. 
Brandon,  Henry,  710,  1635. 
Browne,  J.  Francis,  1215. 

C.  C— y,  M.  R.  C.   S.  E., 
467,1142. 

C.L.  515,  842. 

C.  T.,  599,  916,  1108,  1207, 

1210,  1379,  1399,  1649. 
D.,  1217. 
Dew  hurst,    Henry  William, 

668. 

Doowruh,  W.,  683. 
E.  S.  F.,  911. 
E.  W.  W.,  535. 
Eta,  496. 
An  Exonian,  1652 
Fumo,  397. 
G.,  1571. 
G.  B.,917. 
G.  J.,  1 105. 
G.H.I.,  1166. 
Gulielmus,  1259. 
Gwilym  Sais,  1615. 
H.,  636,  908,  942. 
H.B.,  1336. 
H.  H.  N.  N.,  161. 
Honeycomb,  Will,  432. 
I.  E— tt,  581. 
Ignotus,  1649. 
I.  J.  T.,  1116,  1155,  1384. 


J.,  557 
J.  B.,  448. 
J.  D.,  1613. 

J.  E. T.T.,  531. 

J.  F.,  491,  494,  1043. 

J.  G.,  29. 

J.  H.,  542,  1248. 

J.  H.B.,  1111,  1275,  1653. 

J.H.  C.,955. 

J.  H.  H.,  91. 

J.  J.  A.  F.,  442,  797,  929, 

1060, 1518. 

J.  J.T.,  1116,  1155,  1334. 
J.  K.  S.,  659. 
J.  L.,  881. 
J.  O.  W.,  43. 
J.  P.,  478, 548,  882. 
J.  R.  P.,  374,  792,  1583. 
J.  S.,  23,  660. 
J.  S.  Junior,  74. 
J.  W.,  553. 
J.  W.  H.,  455. 

j n,  J— k— n,  1655. 

Jackson,  S.  R.,  1 18. 
Jehoiada,  1559,  1562. 
Jennings,  James,  1136. 
Johnson,  Benjamin,  367,870, 

729,  791. 
K.,  223,  283,  669. 
Kier,  Robert,  484. 
Lander,  H.  M.,  709,  1 100. 
Lector,  789. 
N.  G.,  913. 
N.  N.,  1599. 

An  Old  Correspondent,  1606. 
P.,  1059,  1374. 
P.  P.,  Jun.,  609 


Parallel  Barrister,  653. 

Pasche,  377. 

Paul  Pry,  49. 

Peakril,  A.,  451. 

Prior,  J.  R.,  707,  931,  815 

R.  A.  R.,  1 170. 

R.  H.  E.,  139. 

R.  J.,  256. 

R.  R.,  1156. 

R.  S.,  665. 

R.  T.,  744, 1037,  1255,  1307 

Reddock,  John  Wood,  18. 

S.G.,  1347. 

S.  M.,  1163. 

S.  P.,  54. 

S.R.,  907. 

S.R.J.,  815,907. 

Sam  Sam's  Son,  650,   969, 

1008. 

Selits,  1576. 

A  Shoemaker,  470, 1045. 
Sleafordensis,  1246. 
A  Small  Bookseller,  186. 
**P.,    1269,    1291,    1841, 

1851,  1628. 
Sykes,  John,  689. 
T.    A.,   249,  375,  418,  532 

1565. 

T.  B.,  1661. 
T.  W.  L.,  858,  861. 
Thomas,  S.,  185. 
W.  H.,  472,  767. 
W.  H.  H.,  1596. 
W.  P.,  599,  986. 
W.  S.,  122,  879,  904. 
W.  W.,  1687. 
Z.,  1684. 


1705 


INDEX  TO  THE  ENGRAVINGS 


1710 


V.  INDEX 

TO  THE  ONE  HUNDRED  AND  FORTY-FIVE  ENGRAVINGS 
CONTAINED  IN  THE  VOLUME. 


1  ALMANACK,  the  "Clog,"  Frontispiece. 

2  Adalberonis,  (Caput  sancti,)  1078. 

3  April,  479. 

4  Avingham,  riding  the  fair  at,  1665. 

5  August,  1047. 

6  Autumnal  dress  in  the  fourteenth  cen- 

tury, 1342. 

7  Baubleshire,  duke  of,  679. 

8  Beadle,  (parish,)  129. 

9  Becket,  St.  Thomas  a,  929, 

10  Ben,  old  General,  of  Nottingham,  1569. 

1 1  Biddenden  Sisters,  the,  443. 

12  Boscobel  House,  697. 

13 ,  another  view,  699. 

14  Boys,  street  images  of,  315. 

15  Brown,  (Baron,)  the  Durham  poet,  1217. 

16  Busby,  Dr.,  his  chair,  33. 

17  Calves-head  club,  159. 

1 8  Car  (common  travelling)  in  Ireland,  242. 

19  Caraboo,  or  the  wonder  of  the  west,  1631. 

20  ,  another  engraving,  1634. 

21  Carving,  ancient,  497. 

22  Cat;  street  image  of  one,  312. 

23  Chimney-sweeper  (a  machine)  617. 

24  another,  624. 

25  Christ's  effigy  sent  to  Abgarus,  63. 

26  Cobblers'  festival  at  Paris,  1055. 

27 another  engraving, 

1057. 

28  Cooke,  Sir  G.,  M.  P.  for  Garretl,  830. 

29  Cupid,  popular  representation  of,  1545. 

30  December,  1585. 

31  Dog  on  trial,  199. 

32  Dolmoors,  marks  for  allotting  grounds 

so  called,  921. 

33  Dream  of  human  faces,  1537. 

84  Dunmow,  custom  about  flitch  of  bacon, 

799. 

35  taking  the  oath  at,  801. 

56  Dunstan,  sir  Jeffrey,  M.  °    for  Garrett, 

829. 


87  Effigy  in  Panyer-alley,  1135. 

38  Elephant  at  Exeter-change,  321. 

39 den  of,  335 

40  killed  at  Geneva,  705. 

41  Emerson,  W., autograph  of,  690. 

42  Execution   of  farmer  Carter's  dog  fo* 

murder,  199. 

43  February,  169. 

44  Fountain  in  June,  785. 

45  Garrett,  mock  election  for,  839 

46 another  en 

graving,  851. 

47  George  (St.)  and  the  dragon,  1272. 

48  German  showman,  1329. 

49  Grain  measure,  126. 

50  Gymnastic  exercises,  657. 

51  Hampden,  John,  autographs  of,  475. 

52  Harvest  home,  at  Hawkesbury,  1 153. 

53  Heriot,  George,   hospital  founded  by 

751. 

54 his  statue,  753. 

55 his  arms,  913. 

56 •  his  autograph,  ib. 

57  Irish  car,  242. 

58  Islington  old  church  (St.  Maty)  505. 

59  Ivanovitch  (Vassili)  a  Russian  prince, 

548. 

60  Jack  o'  the  green,  577. 

61  January,  1. 

62  Jenkins,  Henry,  1601. 

63  Jones,  John,  of  Wandsworth,  821. 

64  July,  890. 

65  June,  721. 

66  "The  king  drinks,"  31. 

67  Lance  (holy)  430. 

68  Lark-shooting  in  France,  9 

69  laughing  boy,  543. 


7T11 


INDEX  TO  THE  ENGRAVINGS. 


1719 


"0  Leverian  Museum,  986. 

71  ticket,  991. 

72  London,  mayoralty  seal  of,  257. 

73 Edward  First's  seal  for  port  of, 

881. 

74  an  old  watch-tower  of,  629. 

75 expla- 
natory engraving,  ib 

76  Lottery,  drawing  of,  at  Guildhall,  1019. 

77  the  last  stage  of  the  last,  1407. 

78  — »  horseback,  1408. 

79  another,   from  a  lottery  bill, 

1409. 

80  wheel,  1439. 

81  drawing  of  prizes  in,  1441. 

bills,   the  kitchen-maid  from, 


1503. 


If  03. 


1519. 


the  cook-maid,  1503. 
•  the  successful  footman, 

the  starved  apothecary, 

over-danced  man,  1519. 
milkmaid,  1520. 
Nobody,  1520. 


83 
84 

86 

86 
87 
88 

89  Love,  David,  225 

90  Mansfield,  Lord,  his  autograph,  396. 

91  March,  273. 

92 merriment  in,  289. 

93  Martyr's  stone  at  Hadleigh,  21 1. 

94  Matthews  (Mr.)  at  home,  465. 

95  May,  567. 

96  May-dew    dancers   at    Arthur's    sea 

Edinburgh,  610. 

97  May-garland  (Northampton)  615. 

98  pole  (country)  575. 

99  (planting  the  village)  593. 

100  Mercury,  1327. 

101  Michael,  St.  1271. 

102  Milkmaids' dance,  591. 

103  Minerva,  463. 

104  Monkeys  in  an  oyster-shop,  59. 

105  "My  son,  sir,"  1542. 

106  Necton  Guild,  671. 

107  New  River  at  Hornsey,  1311. 

108  N-inepenny  Marl,  983. 

109  November,  1361. 

110  October,  1281. 


111  Parrot;  street  image  of  one,  311. 

112  Patrick's  (St.)  day,  383. 

1 13  Paul  Pry  in  the  character  of  Mr.  Listen 

49. 

114  Paul's  Cross,  preaching  at,  on  Good 

Friday,  414. 

U5  Plants,  machine    for  determining    the 
gradual  increase  of,  1 86. 

116  Potteries,  (the,)  a  summer   scene   in, 

993. 

117  Price,  Charles,  the  arch-impostor,!  473 
118 another 

engraving,  1474. 

119  Procession  of  the  Scald  Miserables, 

524. 

120  Pump  at  Hammersmith,  1231 

121  Refreshment,  seasonable,  59. 

122  Richard  III.,  his  well,  1105. 

123  Roman  station  at  Pentonville,  1199. 
124 another 

engraving,  ib. 
at  Pancras,  1345. 


125 

126  September,  1183. 

127  Seymour,    [before    Stuart,]    Arabella, 

autograph  of,  733. 

1 28  Shawsware  (Coya)  a  Persian  merchant ; 

his  tomb,  1079. 

129  Shoe  and  clog,  old  lady's,  1635. 

1 30  Skating  on  the  Serpentine,  97. 

131  Spirit's  (the)  blasted  tree,  1023. 

132  Street  images  in  1826,  315. 

133  Sugar  hogshead,  with  boys  about  it, 

1543. 

134  Swearing  on  the  horns  atHighgate,  79 

135  Travelling  in  Ireland,  239. 
186  "  Very  deaf,  indeed,"  1558. 

137  Wassail  bowl,  7. 

1 38  Weights  and  measures,  trial  of,  under 

Henry  VII.,  127. 

1 39  West,  Benjamin,  366. 

140  his  autograph,  ib. 

141  Willis,  Dr.  (bishop  of  Winchester,)  his 

autograph,  296. 

142 Dr.  Browne,  his  portrait,  193. 

143 his  autograph,  295. 

144  White  Conduit  (the)  1201. 

145  Woodcock,  Elizabeth,  175 


FJNiS. 


J.  lladdon,  Printer,  Castle  Street,  Fin.tlntrif. 


BINDING  LIST  MAY  15 1940 


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